Carp Redux 2011 - Short And Sweet

Stepped into the creek at 12:30 today, which is the wrong time at this time of year.  It was hot... no, it was hot and humid.  The air was thick and like a blast furnace. 

The addiction that is mine simply got the best of me.  Feeling challenged in body and soul, I needed to feel better.

The Mysis Shrimp has been missing in action lately so it went on as an offering to the grand and golden ones.  A lone carp was spotted; a cast... a unremarkable cast was made and fortunately fell lightly and within acceptable range of the creature.  In watching the fish it was easy to see notice was taken.  Attention turned to leader and then there it was... that ever-so subtle movement.  Side sweep hook set and fish to hand.  Picture taken, fish released, and the creek is left behind to another day.

A stop at the beer store and then to the prairie home.  Short, sweet, and to the point.

Carp Redux 2011 - Thoughts Under A Diamond Sky

There hasn't been much time, here of late, to go to the place of fly-fishing - the workshop for the soul.  In the last two outings, three beeves have come to carry my brand and all three came as a result for their affection for the Crazy Charlie. 

My friend Charlie has had fewer hours than I on the water, but, he is still managing to rope and brand a beeve here or there with the Carpolo Charlie pattern in olive and yellow. Yesterday he decided to check on the herd at the pasture that bears his name.  On the ride in he found a stray beeve and quickly roped it.

Charlies stray beeve taken on a Carpolo Charlie olive/yellow.

Several nights ago I was sitting in the prairie open under a diamond sky thinking about the recent chatter as to the demise of the local and small fly shops across the country. 

Although, I've never been privy to the pleasures of having a nearby fly shop, I can certainly understand and see myself visiting quite often, only if one was near.  I would think there is something personal about a fly shop to a fly fisher in the same locale... such as good solid information on the water and the fish, and friendships formed.

As to why the small fly shop industry is in such a nosedive, there are most likely a number of factors. One factor most certainly is the sluggish economy we all have been wading through for the last several years.  Another reason may very well be the decline of interest in fly fishing altogether.  And lastly, there is the increase of on-line marketing by Internet fly shops. 

The Internet fly shop has become the convenience store for the fly angler and fly tyer. With just a couple of clicks, Metz or Hoffman, Sage or Winston, or Ross and Abel can be on their way to our doorstep.  Although Internet fly shops are convenient, they leave much to be desired - I, for one,  really like to look at hackles and capes before buying. 

There was a surge in fly fishing interest during the mid 1990's and as it is with most surges there comes a peak or leveling-off that is sometimes followed by a marked decline.  It appears fly fishing as a whole is in this declining stage. 

The economy is slowly recovering, but, unfortunately when there are monthly overhead costs the small fly shop owner can only hold out for so long.  Sad, but brutally true.

By and by the fly fishing genius will look for an answer to stop the decline of fly fishing.  Failing to do so may very well result in a continuum of the art much like the demise of local fly shops.

Already we are hearing that the answer that will remedy the decline is introducing more youth to our sport, and why would any of us argue this point - it simply makes sense.

I would hope however, while we concentrate on bringing more young people to this fine and noble art, we fail not in rememering that they, the young ones today, will need adequate water to fish... in their future.

We are not exactly growing new fishing waters and do well to hold on to the existing waters we have.  With the way it is with water currently, and the competition for the resource from agriculture, municipalities, business and industry, water for recreational purposes (i.e. we who fly fish) gets the short end of a very short stick far too often.

There are water wars being waged in some states with California being one of the most notable.  Here on the prairie ocean, Oklahoma is currently undergoing a statewide water plan and hopefully the planners will have the same insight that Robert S. Kerr owned, making sure we have enough water, whereas our fisheries will not be threatened.

Carp Redux 2011 - Thinning Pastures

Like yesterday, today seem like a good day to ride the range in pursuit of carp.  Today is the 5th of May and it's more like the typical spring day we are accustomed to on this prairie ocean.  The wind is present of course, but, somewhat mild compared to the last month or so.  The sun is in full bloom tracking on a south by southwest plane. 

Slipping out the backdoor of the mercantile store, only the essential gear is once again stowed.  There is the rod, lanyard, and possibles pouch. 

Arriving at the pasture known as Shipwreck, I perch upon a large boulder overlooking a deeper pool.  Within is three carp, and they have stirred the bottom.  With the same carrot on the stick, the fly plunges deep into the pool and I await.  Soon there is a slight tug on the leader and the hook set brings in a youngster carp.  He becomes number twenty-seven this season.  This year, there is not near as much time to spare compared to last carp season.  Hopefully, more time will come this anglers way in the near future.  

The memory recorder did come back alive this morning after taking the plunge into the stew yesterday.  However, when the forever button is pushed... no memory results.  I'll give the machine a couple of more days to dissipate the moisture hidden within it's nooks and crannies.

From Shipwreck, a trail is blazed to the pasture called Courtyard.  There is only an hour, or little over, to spare today, so the search for carp is somewhat rushed.  However, it's not so rushed that movement will alert any carp that lie in waiting.  Sadly, only two images of carp are seen in this entire stretch. 

The Carp Carrot has retired and a spawning shrimp pattern is placed into employment.  Since the carp, as a lot, are not visible, blind casting is pursued.  No carp come, but a smallmouth, spotted bass, redbreast and green sunfish come to hand. 
Our pastures are thinning by the day.  It's not hard to recognize the lowering of the creek and when it progresses more each day it is a certainly concerning to the angler.  From what I am seeing in the upstream section of this creek, I fear this little stream will run dry within two weeks... unless we receive rain.  The lack of rain this season will have a profound effect on the whole of this prairie ocean.

It comes time to go as thanks is given and I leave the creek.

Carp Redux 2011 - Branding Time

During this month of May, there seems to be a sense of excitement... a feeling of good times to come,  a feeling wrapped in the warming weather of the spring season.  Although that great mother known as nature has tended to try and take the wind from the sail, our vessel of pursuit of the grand ones continue. 

In reading the yellowed and thinning page of fly fishing accounts, I note with great interest the words of Walton in describing the carp.  "Queen of Rivers" was his reference... a fitting one I would think, an entitlement also, and a point I would engage with anyone that looks at the carp as a worthless creature.

Today is the 4th of May and it seems like a good enough day to brand a couple of these beeves we tend in our watery pastures.  With the prairie schooner being out on loan, gear is packed to the mercantile store of which I labor.  Rod, lanyard, and of course the possibles pouch.  From the mercantile store I take the short walk to an overgrown trail that will lead me to the first pasture of the afternoon.

From the possibles pouch comes the Carp Carrot... a well worn Carp Carrot if you will.  At the pasture known as the Courtyard there is a carp about twenty-five feet out and the offering goes sailing toward him.  The fly disappears from sight, but there is a sense that the carp is on it and with rod tip lifted sharply the hook lassos the beast. 

Further upstream the second carp of the day is captured with the same carrot and as I'm trying to capture the memory of the fish on the line in the water, the memory recorder slips from my hand and takes the drink.  Today's trip to the bottom of the creek was trip number four for this memory recorder.  The machine has resurrected the previous three times and if a recovery is made this time then the machine will be known as "El Gato", for surely this thing has nine lives.  One memory was saved, one was not.

This event takes some of the steam out of the drive.  I leave the creek giving thanks.

Carp Redux 2011 - Charlie's Return Dispatch

Prologue:  Rest assured, Charlie and I are carp crazy..., but beautifully so.

Barry,

Easy now you cow punched, mule dragged, sod worn, gun slinging, leathered old carpalo cowboy. I know these slow times are dang hard on a man. Why, I seen times like these drive a man to hard drinking, wild women and broken rods. Just remember the good times when you were in mud up to your ass, grass in your teeth, hooks in you body and a hog carp bending your rod so deep your balls started cramping. Yea it don't get any better than that.

Have a beer, have a Jack, wipe away those tears and strap on your carp spurs. Better days are just around the corner:  Why I bet that 35" bull carp is waiting for your best stuff. Go get'm you old crusty carper.

Charlie

Epilogue:  Seems quite reminiscent of another time where Charlie is Gus.

Carp Redux 2011 - A Dispatch To Charlie

Charlie my friend, I ink this paper in a mood similar to that of the heavy gray slate sky that hovers over us today. 

For six days now, nary a carp have I touched with my fingertips.  The strange weather that has come our way has caused great difficulty on the pastures.  The spring rains were welcomed of course, but, they blur the currents keeping us from our pursuit.  When the rains subside, the winds come.   Not whispering or whistling winds, but rather screaming wind.  On this Friday that just passed, the settlements aqueduct failed sending a landslide of murky and muddy sediment-laden stew into our pastures complicating things more.  All of this, along with the beeves heavily grazing, with their mouths close to the pasture top, have turned our creek into a mere beef tea or loblolly.

Despite all these difficulties, I did have several chances of lassoing the carp last week.  I am in a difficulted state of being and have not the faintest notion of why these creatures now shun the grand offerings I bring to them.  Perhaps it is simply a case they have come to learn that the gifts of supple feather and shimmering flash have a hidden sting. 

The behaviour of the beeves we tend seems peculiar this drive compared to last season.  The beeves are staying collected in communal form in the deepest of the fertile pastures.  Few strays are being witnessed by these ever-searching eyes.

The beeves have me buffaloed Charlie.  We've known for some time now that they are a persnickety lot, but we have come to admire their wit.  And... it may be that sharpness they own that has me in a forlorn state. 

It has come to mind to search for greener pastures.  However this would require the prairie schooner and the price of pony feed reaches deep into the pocket.  The steeds are ready, but in feeding their extra hunger I would soon be down to the blanket.

It has also come to mind that herders like us do grow late in our season where the sharpness we own begins to dull.  I speak only of myself in this regard, because of the two of us you are the one that continues to hone your skills to a ever keener edge. 

My hope is to receive a dispatch from you - one that will tell a grand tale of a lassoed beeve that comes to your near, where you will make your brand with the simple touch of your hand, where after the beeve will go back to the pasture.

Until such dispatch comes my way, I will stay here at the bunk with my propensity to tilt a bottle, or two perhaps, or more, reaching a state of being jingled.

Carp Redux 2011 - Charlie's Triumphant Return

Charlie hasn't had much time on the water in the last week or so.  Well... that's not exactly the truth... he has had time on the water, but, it's been with cane pole, worms, and grandchildren.  That's beautifully wonderful in itself.

However, he hasn't been able to carp by fly in the last week or so.  Today, he returned to the pursuit of carp by the fur and feather and what a return it was.

 

Singling out a rather large carp, Charlie sent out an offering in the form of an olive and yellow Carpolo Charlie fly.  In his report, Charlie says this big chap took the fly on the fall, which is always a beautiful sight to behold.

During the Carp Crusades of 2010, and thus far in the Carp Redux, both Charlie and I have tried our best to attract the attention of the sucker fish in our local creek.  We both have met with great failure.  However, Charlie reports that today two Redhorse suckers turned on the Carpolo Charlie.  We have greater hope now and if I know Charlie Wright, he'll end up catching one of those suckers.

Carp Redux 2011 - Catcher In The Dry

This fellow took an Elk Hair Caddis like a sipping trout would.

Today was the most exciting day of my fly fishing for carp life.  If only friend Donny Carter could have been there to watch the event unfold.  For those of you that don't know Donny... he's the best dry fly fisherman I know and his favorite pattern is the Elk Hair Caddis. 

Finding six carp sipping blossoms off the surface, I tie on a size 12 Elk Hair.  Only one carp is on the near side where I am and the fly lands about eight inches above his position.  He comes up on the fly just like a sipping trout would.  The hook-set was easy because it came in a moment of perfect clarity.  It was a beautiful experience and my first carp on a dry fly pattern.  Charlie took a couple late last season with his Thistle Missile, but, somehow I've kept thinking an Elk Hair might just work.  The second carp I cast too also took the Elk Hair, but, in my excitement I tried to set too early.  

A slud (slime and mud) covered Elk Hair in mouth.