Chances are I should have just stayed at the bunkhouse today.
First off, the prairie schooner was out on loan and away from my wagon mastery, and it just so happens that the lanyard, carp fly box, and carp rod were stowed in the wagon of the schooner.
Leaving the mercantile store at noon, I was able to persuade sweet Carol in letting me have the brown pony, and therein was the chance to get to the creek. Without my precious carp gear, I grabbed a rod (not meant for the carp) and a poorly tied Carpola Charlie (tied it way too bulky and it fishes like crap).
Getting to the creek around 1 p.m., I knew there was only 45 minutes before my duty of fetching Carol was scheduled. Standing at one of of the more significant, in size, pastures, it was easy to see the carp were extremely active in mudding. This large pool looked like a ginger-colored milk shake.
Although I missed the carp fly box, the carp rod, and the lanyard... the one thing more importantly missed was the polarized sunglasses. They are vital. The only saving grace today was the cowboy hat I wear... it has a wide brim and that helps shade the sun.
Forty or more feet out, the images of carp could be seen, but, getting a fly to them would require what I call a "prayer cast", where we simply cast and pray like heck the fish will stumble into it. This didn't seem a good option today.
After about twenty minutes there was a waving orange colored tail about fifteen feet out, so the crap-tied Carpola Charlie in olive and black was flipped to the fish. Immediately my attention was turned to the tail, but suddenly the corner of my eye was caught by the image of a rather good-sized Mirror carp coming from the bottom. This fish sucked the fly mid-column and it caught me so off guard it was too late. Going for the hookset anyhow, the fly landed in the arms of a young tree some ten feet behind me.
I was peeved.
Another ten minutes passed and it was nearing time to fetch Miss Carol, but, just five more minutes... please, and I'll be damn, if another Mirror (maybe the same one) came toward the bank. The fly was again flipped and the darn fish took the fly mid-column. I saw the fly go in the fishes mouth!
I missed! Again!
With the first Mirror carp that took the fly mid-column there was a Keystone Light tucked under my right arm, which just so happens to be my hook-set arm.
With the second Mirror carp that took the fly mid-column the same Keystone Light was squeezed between my knees.
Hmmm.... is there a correlation?
Showing posts with label mirror carp. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mirror carp. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Monday, April 25, 2011
Carp Redux 2011 - Dingy Water Mirror Carp
I had every intention of getting in a lot of carp by fly time today. However, Mother Nature had a different idea it seems.
We received more rain last night and that's a good thing. It didn't seem like all that much rain however. Once I got to the creek this morning I knew my fishing would be shortlived. The creek was as dingy today as yesterday, but the flow was down some.
Seeing a disturbance in the water downstream, I snuck every so slowly to that spot. In the shallows was a lone carp mostly hidden from my vision. Taking a chance I plopped the olive and orange Carpolo Charlie in on his front and watched him. Within five seconds I lifted the rod tip and felt his presence.
Ten minutes later he was in my hand. This fish would not give up. I finally waded out into the creek and scooped him up before he gave himself out entirely.
Since I was on the creek and on foot it made sense to just go ahead and wade downstream in hopes of seeing more carp. Leaving the pasture known as Honey Hole, I waded through the pastures of Worm Pool, Shipwreck, Well Springs Pool, Well Springs Shallows, the Bend and the Beach. This is about a mile of water and only two carp were spotted.
That's part of carping by fly I guess. If the rain holds off today, the creek should be more fishable tomorrow. Hopefully.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Carp Redux 2011 - The Day After "I Do!"
Charlie has told me a good number of times to seek out the shallows after a rain. Of all the fly fishers I know, Charlie is one of the finest and the one that owns the keenest sense of observation - he studies these carp like a student prepping for a test.
Early this morning, about midway between the midnight hour and dawn, a thunderstorm tumbled across this prairie ocean. It was loud with bright flashes and brought rain. It didn't bring a tremendous amount of rain; a drought-buster my no means, however, it was a much needed rain and enough to turn the creek brown.
It may be my imagination, but, Mirror carp seem to have more spunk than the Common carp does. The Mirror just never quit and make run after run. Sometimes I have to simply bulldog these Mirror carp and beach them.
Today the carping by fly was a mixture of sight fishing and blind fishing at the same time. The creek wasn't dingy to the point the image of the carp couldn't be made, but, once the fly pierced the surface it was gone from sight. I depended on the behavior of the carp to know when it was time to set the hook and if the creatures suddenly moved forward and stopped, or gills flared... I went for the hook-set. This practice worked like a charm.
I gave thanks and left the creek.
Early this morning, about midway between the midnight hour and dawn, a thunderstorm tumbled across this prairie ocean. It was loud with bright flashes and brought rain. It didn't bring a tremendous amount of rain; a drought-buster my no means, however, it was a much needed rain and enough to turn the creek brown.
I decided to take Charlie up on his advice, and like I should have known, his advice was solid as a rock. With the creek being discolored, I dismissed the white Mysis Shrimp from duty and tied on an olive and orange Carpolo Charlie. Within thirty minutes I had battled and brought to submission three carp... including two of those fascinating looking Mirror carp.
It may be my imagination, but, Mirror carp seem to have more spunk than the Common carp does. The Mirror just never quit and make run after run. Sometimes I have to simply bulldog these Mirror carp and beach them.
Today the carping by fly was a mixture of sight fishing and blind fishing at the same time. The creek wasn't dingy to the point the image of the carp couldn't be made, but, once the fly pierced the surface it was gone from sight. I depended on the behavior of the carp to know when it was time to set the hook and if the creatures suddenly moved forward and stopped, or gills flared... I went for the hook-set. This practice worked like a charm.
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| First Mirror of the day. |
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| Fascinating looking Mirror. |
Fishing today was a total muddy mess. The usual structure of felled trees and root balls were certainly present and today there were additional tree limbs that had been washed down the creek. How the fish and I came through all that without a break-off amazes me. Although it was fun, it was a work-out and in the end my rod was dirty, the reel was dirty, I was dirty, and the Carpolo Charlie looked like it had been through a meat grinder.
Speaking of Charlie again, I think he come up with the perfect coinage about fly fishing for carp. In a dispatch I received from Charlie last year in regards to fly fishing for carp, Charlie said, "This ain't pretty fishing." Charlie my friend, you're absolutely correct - this is sometimes down and dirty in the trenches fishing.
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| It's not pretty fishing. |
While I was having fun battling the carp, I didn't realize the creek was on the rise. It wasn't a threatening rise or anything like that. However, within another thirty minutes the creek had become unfishable, discoloring even more with a significant increase in flow.
I gave thanks and left the creek.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Fall Foraging
My first thought today, after leaving work, was to take care of some of the stuff on the bunkhouse to-do list, which seems to be growing exponentially. But... my second thought was that since the list has, and continues, to grow... it shouldn't hurt to wait one more day, and I could make a trip to the creek.
The time spent on the creek today was almost exactly an hour. The fishing was most rewarding... one of those awesome experiences that come quite rarely. I used one pattern the entire hour I was on the water. The burnt orange and black Backstabber was the warrior that sought the echelons of fish today and he performed brilliantly.
In the short hour I was there, I come to meet three more carp - one Common and two engaging Mirror carp. The Backstabber was not selective today, also finding a smallmouth and a young Drum. There was a mild cold front that came through today and I wondered how, or if, this would have an effect on the fishing. From the observations made, here of late, the bass species seem to be foraging for the cold weather season that waits to arrive.
The leaves are really starting to let go now and many of the trees are starting to flame in colors that range from burnt orange to scarlet and dull brown to golden. Nature is quite pretty in her harvest bouquet of colors.
Here are today's warriors.
The time spent on the creek today was almost exactly an hour. The fishing was most rewarding... one of those awesome experiences that come quite rarely. I used one pattern the entire hour I was on the water. The burnt orange and black Backstabber was the warrior that sought the echelons of fish today and he performed brilliantly.
In the short hour I was there, I come to meet three more carp - one Common and two engaging Mirror carp. The Backstabber was not selective today, also finding a smallmouth and a young Drum. There was a mild cold front that came through today and I wondered how, or if, this would have an effect on the fishing. From the observations made, here of late, the bass species seem to be foraging for the cold weather season that waits to arrive.
The leaves are really starting to let go now and many of the trees are starting to flame in colors that range from burnt orange to scarlet and dull brown to golden. Nature is quite pretty in her harvest bouquet of colors.
Here are today's warriors.
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Rescue And Recovery
My morning on Rock Creek would start early and what a pretty morning it was. I come to the creek today with three things in mind. First, I must rescue two of my flies from a fate that is not theirs to be. Secondly, I want to recover that chair I've been slowly carrying down the creek, and lastly, I'm looking for carp number 100.
First order of business are the two Carpola Charlies. Above a bank on Rock Creek, dangling and glistening in the sun, are two Carpola Charlies just a matter of inches apart. With two flies hanging in such close proximity to one another reveals that this fly fisher doesn't always remember prior or past mistakes. You would think when I hung the first fly I would have made a mental note. I did not evidently.
I must free my flies, for their destiny is not to serve as a garnish or embellishment for a twisted, gnarly grapevine that has ensnared itself around a tree limb.
The problem is the flies are about twenty feet in the air so a plan has to be hatched. As any good cowboy would do, I grab my lariat - a hand-made lariat I've had for about fifteen years. Next, I fetch one of Miss Carol's garden utensils that will make a dandy grappling hook. Then, I create the handy dandy extended pruners to cut the flies loose if need be. My plan is to grapple-hook the tree limb pulling it down as far as possible, tie off the rope, and then with the extended pruner, cut the vine freeing my flies from the manacles of these tentacles that currently have the Carpola Charlies incarcerated.

It took at least ten tries, but finally the grappling hook captured the Carpola Charlies black and olive and it came tumbling to the ground with a small limb attached. Now, it was time to go after the remaining man.
Another twenty or so tries and finally the grasp of the hooks found the tree limb and the rope wrapped around. There would be no escaping for the vine or limb and with a hard tug the olive and orange was freed.
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| Intimate Rock Creek |
Rescue complete, it was time to go into recovery mode. Going downstream a good ways, I walked up to the last point I carried that chair. Slowly I've been carrying it downstream and only have about two-hundred yards left before I can carry it out at Well Springs. With an early start and somewhat cool weather, I saw no better time than this morning to complete the task. On my way back downstream I encountered another chair stuck in the mud, plus remnants of yet another chair. I grabbed the remnants, but will have to make plans to get the other chair out. Carrying the chair up the hill at Well Springs, the recovery was complete.

Carp number 100 escaped me the other day and this morning I am looking for redemption. I'll be honest with you, the carp that would take me to triple digits did not come easily. I snuck-up on carp, stalked carp, and stealth was the keyword of the day. I fished carp that weren't interested, mildly interested and a couple I would've bet my last dollar were genuinely interested. I showed them the Backstabber, but they just looked at it and swam away. It was the same with the olive and black Carpola, and the black and orange Carpola. At the Courtyard there weren't a whole lot of carp to stalk, but the ones I did... eluded me.
I sit down on a rock to ask myself what I was doing wrong? But, perhaps it wasn't a case of what I was doing wrong, but rather a case of what would Charlie do? Knowing Charlie well enough, I'm certain he would go to a white pattern or the San Juan Worm, and so this would be my next plan of action. However, I wanted to try the olive and orange Carpola first, and the only one I had was the one just rescued from that grapevine ensnared tree limb. I tied it on and go downstream.
At Mother Hole the water was completely milky or muddy, but I could see some shadows and therefore I cast to shadows. Suddenly something caught my eye upstream. I could tell it was a carp feeding in the shallows, but the problem was all the trees next to the water. There were several trees and the limbs were only five feet above the surface. I pursued this fish anyhow, and when I arrived at his grazing spot I knew this was going to be difficult. A forward roll or flip cast was out of the question. The only way to cast to this fish was with a back-handed side arm flip cast. I took the rod in my left hand and worked it around the tree trunk where I took it with my right hand. Dropping the fly in the water I made my first attempt at this difficult cast and blew it big time. My second attempt was much better and the fly landed behind the carp's shoulder. The plop of the fly was enough to make him turn and when he saw the fly he was on it. Carp number 100 was a fascinating looking Mirror.
At Mother Hole the water was completely milky or muddy, but I could see some shadows and therefore I cast to shadows. Suddenly something caught my eye upstream. I could tell it was a carp feeding in the shallows, but the problem was all the trees next to the water. There were several trees and the limbs were only five feet above the surface. I pursued this fish anyhow, and when I arrived at his grazing spot I knew this was going to be difficult. A forward roll or flip cast was out of the question. The only way to cast to this fish was with a back-handed side arm flip cast. I took the rod in my left hand and worked it around the tree trunk where I took it with my right hand. Dropping the fly in the water I made my first attempt at this difficult cast and blew it big time. My second attempt was much better and the fly landed behind the carp's shoulder. The plop of the fly was enough to make him turn and when he saw the fly he was on it. Carp number 100 was a fascinating looking Mirror.
Getting back to the subject of recovery, I was telling my boss the other day that I thought when I caught carp number 101, I would quit fly fishing for carp for the rest of this year. As he laughed, I looked at him with a raised eyebrow and my own amusement as to his lack of confidence in my self-control. Then he said, "You won't quit Shrader... I'll bet you two cases of beer that you won't quit." Again, with the same raised eyebrow, I replied, "Why would you make a bet that is so easy for me to win - I just won't fish anymore after 101." With an even louder laugh and more confident air about him, he countered with, "That's just it Shrader, you won't quit because you can't quit. I know you too well!" Then he extended his hand to seal the bet, and for the life of me I could not make that bet. I knew he was right.
Early into the carp crusades I knew I was addicted. Undoubtedly, I've been addicted to the Rainbow's and Blue River for years, but this addiction to carp on the fly is much more powerful. I guess there could come the day that I can quit, but at best I will still be an addict - living my life in recovery.
My goodness - I couldn't make that bet, and I could really use two cases of beer.
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Labels:
carp addiction,
carp crusades,
carpola charlie,
mirror carp,
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