Blue Christmas

A seaman is meant to be at sea.  Now, most would think with holidays and shore leave granted, that I would be content to stay dry docked at the harbor home.  However, with the eldest daughter two states away and a grandson at the extreme northern part of this prairie ocean I found myself pacing the planks. 

This wouldn't be the first time I had sailed to Blue River on Christmas day and this year my buddy Van Stacey would also hoist the iron.  At Blue River we both threw anchor around 9:30 and headed straight to the current.

Having tied a red ass Frenchie the night before, I was excited to see what this lad would or would not do  Above Cottonwood Pool I sent him out on his maiden voyage and it didn't seem like he had been wet anytime at all until a bow slammed him.  My reaction was a hard thrust skyward and with these two dynamic actions heading in different directions, the red ass was lost at sea.  Sad ending for a chap that had just been brought to life.

 

Fortunately I had a backup red ass Frenchie... a rather battle worn one I must say, but he would have to do.  At the end of this outing his service would prove to be exemplary. 

 

I only sent two flies out Christmas day.  The olive wooly bugger would also serve well alongside the Frenchie.  For Van, it was also an olive wooly bugger and one of his Marabears.  Once the action slowed on both, he reluctantly tied on a Frenchie and lo and behold if he didn't start catching trout again.  Old sea dogs like me love to smile when those occasions come around.

 

 

 

Van and I would fish only above the crossing and then below.  It didn't seem like it mattered where we sent out our offerings.  The trout seemed to be in each location.  It wasn't a lot of trout, mainly one or two here and the same at the next spot.  The Island was pretty much taken by two other anglers, so we migrated downstream to the Flats and Riffles and better trout action there.

 

At the end of our short outing we had managed about thirty trout souls to our hands.  All were returned to live a little longer. 

 

 

On the way out I had to stop by and take a picture of these Blue fans celebrating the Christmas season.  Hope everyone had a merry one.

 





 



Picture Perfect

My last two outings to Blue River have been grand and enjoyable affairs. On Sunday, I got to meet some new anglers at Blue and put names to faces.  Also, on Sunday I got to fish with two great buddies in Van Stacey and Michael Mercurio.  The fishing wasn't fast and furious, but still quite rewarding.  Starting out at the Flats below the Island, three bows came to my hand courtesy of the olive Wooly Bugger.  Van was having success down in the riffles with the Marabear that he ties. 

We eventually migrated upstream and Van started at Cottonwood Pool catching two in rather fast order.  I positioned myself about thirty feet upstream from him and tied on a Frenchie in pink under the bugger.  The trout fell in love with the Frenchie.  Landed five in the same run while Van was catching more further upstream at this point.  Michael Mercurio was long overdue and I had a good idea of where he might be ... visiting his girlfriend Seventeen.

Van and I took a break at Scotty's for coffee and then headed downstream in Area 1.  As we neared Seventeen I saw a familiar fellow standing in the middle of this magnificent little pool doing what he does best - drifting.  Mercurio had been there awhile and reported good success with the Partridge and Orange soft hackle.  He is probably the best drift fly fisherman I know and it's mesmerizing watching how he works his rod and line. 

Van and I would join him at Seventeen and further up, and all of us were capturing trout.  I finally tired of the indicator and decided to high stick an olive bugger and this technique worked best. 

 

 

 

 

 

Blue River is as pretty as I have ever seen. Her flow is back to what it once was and it seems to be staying at this fantastic flow.  Our day would come to an end Sunday and for me it didn't look like I would get to return until after the News Year.  However, the report that huge amounts of rain were predicted for this weekend led me to think of a way to return to the river soon.  Necessity is the mother of invention.

 

I got to the mercantile store at 5 a.m. on Tuesday.  Got my work done and was out the door by 11 o' clock headed to the Blue.  My plan today was to explore and see if the rains of this season had dispersed the trout. 

 

I started out across the river and it was here my exploration of fishing pools of possibility began.  It was capture a fish in a certain pool and then move to the next while in the process of answering the question, "Have the trout spread out?"  The answer, "Yes!"

 

Before the day would end I would fish Area 6, Teds Pool, and Seventeen.  All produced trout. Only two flies were used - an olive Wooly Bugger and Pink Frenchie.  They were either fished alone or in tandem.  It was a fruitful day. 

 

I had time to do two short videos that I hope shows some of the intimate water I enjoyed today.

 



 

 

                                   

 

 

 

Fair Winds And Following Seas

Each time I hoist anchor to sail to the river Blue, I expect to find fair winds and following seas upon my arrival. Sometimes the gods favor me... sometimes they don't, and on my most recent trip I was certainly not in favorable status.  The wind was pushing the waves toward me instead of assisting me in my endeavor of casting the fur and feather.

Usually I keep a keen weather eye, but on Saturday morning I was quite surprised with the conditions.  Not so much the balmy mist, but the steely gray overcast skies.  Certainly there is nothing wrong with overcast skies - it can be some of the best fishing we can hope for.  However, I set sail early and daylight was slow in the coming.  Not being the most patient person I plowed in the river under low light conditions. 

Owning a long history of starting out with streamers, I commissioned an olive wooly bugger to sea duty and sent him down a sea lane.  As the bugger came out of the swing, I felt the tug of a trout.  At hand, it was a pleasant sight to see that this trout had some good size to it compared to most I had met this season.  The bugger was sent out again and another trout came in.  Then another, and another.  But then, the outstretched arm of an alder grabbed the bugger and kept him.  Hanging there on the gallows it seemed a cruel injustice for such a fine lad to lose his life after having proving how sea worthy he was.

Standing in the river I searched in vain for another olive wooly bugger and that was about the time I realized I had left a fly box in the sailing vessel and I also realized there was a significant leak in my waders.  Void of olive, a black bugger was called to duty and he too would find trout, but not at the same clip as the olive.  The black bugger was lost to a bad tie by this angler so a brown bugger was sent out and yes... trout came, but at no match for the performance of the olive.

The action would slow.  There was some activity on the surface so a partridge and orange was put in the current to test the sea worthiness of this pattern.  The partridge and orange was quite favorable to the trout as it would take the swing.  The trout seemed to grow pattern weary quite easily Saturday morning. 

All morning a down and across cast and taking the swing had been employed.  But, with action slowing down it was time to put on the indicator and drift some patterns through the dark emerald colored pockets.  A hares ear and pink Frenchie were called front and center.

 

Drifting through the flats resulted in three more trout to hand.  It didn't take long for the pink Frenchie to prove himself.  This wasn't the usual pink Frenchie I use.  This magnificent little bug had a red tail.  I had been at the Flats all morning and it was now time to sail downstream to a favorite stretch of mine called 17.

 

 

Fifteen years ago, 17 was one of the sweetest spots on Blue River.  The trout took refuge in 17 and it was nothing less than one big prime lie.  There would be times when the trout would be sipping midges and there were probably 50 or 60 trout all sipping in a harmony.  It was such a beautiful sight to watch I never wanted to fish the trout while they were putting on this show.  However, when the extended exceptional prolonged drought came about, 17 lost it's favor with the trout.  As this stretch of water became quite thin, the trout seemed to avoid taking shelter there anymore.  I think they felt threatened by their natural predators such as the heron, the cormorant, and the otter.  Now, the river is up in level and flow and the trout have once again made 17 their home.

 

The hares ear and Frenchie were drifted through a couple of fast runs and two trout came to hand.  The hares ear took one, the Frenchie the other. It was almost noon and I was totally wet underneath the waders so it was time to call it a successful voyage and sail for the home harbor.

 

Definitely high-sticking water.

 

I bet a dollar there's a trout by that boulder.

 

Weather Eye

The last couple of outings to Blue have been what many consider perfect trout conditions.  There has been fog, heavy mist, drizzling rain, overcast skies, and rain showers. 

Usually I keep a good weather eye and as any sailor worth his salt, I stow what is needed to fit the conditions encountered.  On my last outing however, I found my sea bag quite short of a much needed item.

Last week, I made a short voyage to Blue to spend a couple of hours.  It was foggy and overcast.  Throwing anchor at Ted's Pool, I begin casting upstream and drifting back.  The first twenty minutes or so was uneventful.  Switching to a brown bugger, and later a bubba bugger, the trout finally started coming to hand. 

Upstream a good ways was another seaman and he was sending out an "Ahoy", but he was too far away for me to recognize who he was.  Then, I saw two darling young'uns running around the campsite and realized the seaman with his hand in the air was Dusty Gilles.  Dusty and his family had a wonderful weekend at Blue and the kiddos caught their first trout I believe.

After an hour or so of fishing, six bows had come to hand and it was time for me to shove off.  It was a nice day overall, and a good number of folks on the river.

 

This week I sailed to Blue on a Friday and this is where I missed the weather call.  There was a slight mist when I began my voyage, but by the time I arrived at the river the mist had turned into a steady drizzle.  I had dressed in only a tee shirt with a light pull-over that acted like a sponge.  The drizzle would transform into rain showers and as they came in waves, the wetter I became.

 

However, the fishing was fair.  Early on Friday morning, Van Stacey ran me down and gave me a new pattern he is tying called the Marabear.  He gave me two color schemes - chartreuse and root beer. 

 

On the river I started out with a brown bugger and the bugger would only find one bow.  Then a size 18 Frenchie pink went on and this lad found four bows.  The bite was not hot and heavy and the trout seemed to be feeding in gingerly fashion as revealed by ever so subtle and soft eats.  The chartreuse Marabear was called for sea duty and he would find two bows and loose two more. 

 

 

After an hour and half that more with no end in sight to the rain, I gave in and packed my drenched self to the sailing vessel. 

 

The Tour

"And to your left is Chuck's Ledge, followed by the Boulder, and then we have the Sandbar.  Just downstream you will see the Island, the Flats, and finally the Riffles.  All this water is prime trout territory." 

That's kind of how I spent much of the day yesterday at Blue and I thoroughly enjoyed introducing two fine gentlemen from Allen, Texas to some of the pleasures of this river.  Dan and John both live in Allen, Texas and about six months ago they decided to take up fly fishing.  Both Dan and John live less than ten minutes from Cabela's in Allen and that must be a terrible hardship to have.  I must say they were geared up rather nicely. 

Yesterday's trip would be the first for John and the second trip Dan had made to Blue.  The week prior Dan was trying to get to the catch and release section, but he unfortunately walked up the east side of the river and never got to see the middle or upper section of the C and R. 

We got on the water about 7:30 and immediately began getting hammered by the wind.  The wind was brutal and unrelenting.  I decided to have these guys fish a tandem rig and most likely did these gentlemen a disfavor.  Trying to throw a tandem rig in gusting wind is like asking for a lot of tangles... and tangles we found.  However, we overcame all those minor problems and found some trout. 

Dan would find the first trout of the day fishing upstream from Cottonwood Pool.  He would end up catching two in this pool on a brown bugger.  There were a good number of missed hook-sets due to being a little slow on the rod lift, but that's natural to someone brand new to this game. 

Dan Wilson

 

 



We were hoping to get on the sandbar, but it was occupied most of the time. When a vacancy would come open we would start that way, but before we could get there someone else would be wading out.  So in trying to practice what I preach about etiquette we yielded this sweet spot. 

 

Down at the Island, Dan would find more trout with a Frenchie pattern and John would find his first trout of the day with a Copper John.  There would some more tangles, more wind,  and for Dan a good number of missed hook-sets.  If he'd caught all the trout that ate his flies he would've had a dozen fish for the morning. 

 

John with bow on line.



One of the most rewarding things for me during our morning time was how Dan learned to make a back-handed roll cast and I have to say he had some good distance on it.  I can't imagine the distance he'll have in six months with this back-handed execution.  It was a pretty sight to watch. 

It was near the noon hour and the sun had yet to break through the soup in the sky.  With numb feet and aching fingers, we decided to hit Scotty's for a lunch break. 

When we walked into Scotty's, there sit the one and only Chris Adams.  Chris, being the good soul he is, bought lunch for the lot of us.  Over Scotty burgers, tots, and a corn dog to try and satisfy my incredible craving, we talked about a good number of things as Chris was trying to sell us on the idea he was probably rusty because this was his first trip to Blue this season. 

Now, Dan and John may have believed Chris but I didn't  As far as fly fishing, I know Chris pretty darn well and the guy is never rusty - he's like a well-oiled machine.  And, about a half hour later Dan and John would get to see this for themselves in the south wilderness.

As we walked into the south wilderness, Chris opened up and shared his knowledge with Dan and John naming the landmarks, showing them sweet spots, and soon he would gift them both with the famous Bubba Bugger. 

At the bottom of the hill we came upon one of the "Too Lovely To Litter" stations that Matt and his crew have established.  Chris and his son did a good job building these stations and hopefully they will help the litter problem at Blue.

At Coyote Pass, Dan would find another trout with a Frenchie pattern.  Upstream a ways John would find his second trout of the day with a Copper John.  And further upstream, Chris was putting on a demonstration of "How To Catch A Ton Of Trout With The Bubba Bugger". 

John with a south wilderness bow.

Yours truly didn't spend a whole lot of time fishing yesterday.  My concern was being more attentive to the guys from Allen since this was all brand new to them. However, I did get some time in and ended the day with sixteen to hand.  In doing the math, the Frenchie pattern accounted for 88% of the bows I met today.  The brown bugger accounted for the remainder.

 

 

 

 

Before we knew it, three o'clock had already come and gone and it was time for me to head out.  I said so-long to Dan, John, and Chris and begin my walk out, but did stop for about ten minutes at a really sweet spot and found five more bows on five casts.

 

I am so delighted that the guys from Allen, Texas have discovered Blue River.  I can tell you just with the time we spent together today, that this river has gained two more devoted stewards and they inasmuch said so.  Dan and John will be back many times and each time they come they will discover something new about fly fishing and something new at Blue River. 

 

 

 

 

Fly Fishing Thursday On Blue River

Beating Mother Nature... almost.

A Thursday afternoon is as fine a time as any to spend a wee bit of time fly fishing on the Blue River.  Yesterday everything seem to lay out fine for me.  My young boss at the mercantile store needed a ride to our Tishomingo mercantile and in his request I found some leverage

The deal I made with young boss was he would indeed be transported by yours truly, if... I could run over to the river for an hour or so.  Handshake deal, we were good to go. 

Stopping by the bunkhouse I gathered the gear and soon we were on the road.  On the drive down I felt like I had just pulled a coup... a great triumph, if you will, because here I was getting to fish before the Arctic blast of air hit later in the day.

After dropping the boss off I headed straight for the river only stopping at Scotty's for a bit so I could fetch the "less litter on Blue" boxes Chris Adams had built.

At the river it was hard to keep from noticing how emerald the water looked on this day.  There was an overcast sky with a southerly wind, and the color of the river cause me to have concerns about the effectiveness of the bugger brown.  But, to the bugger brown I stayed true and paired him with an olive WD 40.

The first two trout would escape before reaching my hand, but the third came in for the touch courtesy of the WD 40. The next cast would result in both the bugger brown and his mate to be lost and on their way to the locker deep below. 

Tying another bugger brown on, I once again paired him with a WD 40.  However this time the 40 was in the color red.  The next ten casts resulted in nothing so I decide to move on upstream.  Upstream started out the same way... little action and some very subtle takes.  Finally, the bugger brown brought in a trout.

Then, the action slowed again and I begin to wonder if I was suffering from pattern fatigue especially with the emerald colored river in front of me.  Off came the bugger brown and on went the bugger olive.

First cast with the olive resulted in a fish and two more would also come to hand.  Olive color, in emerald water, under an overcast sky. 

So, here I was on a Thursday afternoon standing in the river feeling pretty good about beating the weather.  Mother Nature must have read my mind or saw that smirk on my face because it was about then the rain showers came my way. 

The showers weren't constant and certainly not down-pouring, but they came in waves - one after another.  Of course the rain gear was back at the bunkhouse and all I had on was a light sweat shirt.  The bait fisherman that had been on the bank near where I was fishing called it a day in light of the recurring rain showers, and the fellow told me he hadn't caught a single trout anyway.

After the fourth or fifth wave of rain shower I also decided to call it a day, so I gathered my effects. waded out of the river, and shoved off for the home harbor.  The fishing today certainly wasn't hot and heavy and I would leave with only five trout to my credit.  But, they all were wonderful in their own way.

One thing about that old cowboy hat I wear... it keeps a lot of rain off of my skinny frame.  And, most certainly a little rain will never hurt this hat - it could use a good cleaning for sure.

Very few souls on the river today and in a way that is sad.  Why so many are not coming this year to take in the love this river gives freely is puzzling to me.  On the other hand with so few souls fishing we don't have to worry about claim jumpers.

Gold Mining And Claim Jumpers

There are times on Blue River we will find a certain pool, run, or stretch of water that yields bow and bow.  It is like a gold mine and we suddenly go from fly angler to gold miner in the eyes of many others.  To them, it appears that we have indeed struck the mother lode of trout.

Not always, but to a fair degree just the same, when we are prospecting and hit it big like just described... we will get company.  Now, there's nothing wrong with company calling if they bring along a reasonable knowledge of etiquette.  However, far too often etiquette is no where to be found. Anglers will simply wade in on you, crowd you out, throw across your line and generally be rude about it all.  I call them claim jumpers.

 

There is plenty of room on Blue River.  Let us all be respectful of one another.



 







Beautiful Blue Cold Morning

I like fishing with Van Stacey and this morning we did go a-fishin'. 

We traveled to the north wilderness - a place I am favoring this season.  For the first fifteen or twenty minutes in the water, neither of us got a bite or if we did we couldn't see it.  The sun had just broke the horizon. 

I decided it was time for a pattern change.  I took an olive streamer and handed Van a black.  The action was on then.  I'd catch a trout, Van would catch a trout. Van would catch a trout, I would catch a trout.  It wasn't exactly every single cast... but close. 

 

After another thirty minutes in the river, I realized I had dressed way too lightly especially in the area south of that little beer belly pooch I own.  My legs went numb so I waded out of the river to the bank.

 

Standing on the bank with legs shivering and teeth chattering, I watched Van continue to pluck a blow here, pluck a bow there, pluck a bow now, and pluck a bow then. 

 



I didn't have to look to tell that our guides were freezing up.  I could hear it when Van would make a roll cast and feel it when I would cast. 

 

After another twenty minutes Van waded out of the river to try and thaw his frozen digits.  We stood there on the bank stomping our feet and rubbing our hands with hand warmers so we could go back in for more... fun... I think. 

 

Van went back in and started catching trout again.  The sun was about an hour and half high in the eastern sky.  I was beginning to feel the warming rays so I stayed out for another ten minutes or so. 

 

 

Finally I waded back in and started taking a few more trout.  Action continued for a short while but slowed to the point it was time to go elsewhere and we headed downstream.

 

Downstream, Van took position off the falls and caught a nice bow on his first cast.  Then, he turned around and fished upstream and caught another bow.  I had took position standing on a rock near the bank and it was here the action turned really sweet for me.  I had a good stretch where every cast resulted in a bow. 

 

Soon, Van's brother Marty and Uncle Jack would join us and I asked them to take the position on the rock.  I went downstream and caught one more bow. 

 

The trout seemed to go off the bite by late morning or near noon.  I bid Van goodbye at around 11.35 a.m. and begin to walk out of the wilderness.  He was going to stay and fish with brother and uncle.

 

I hope the trout cycled back on and went on the bite again.  When I left Van on the river, we together had brought about 60 trout to hand.  A good morning.  Cold early, but warming nicely when I was walking out. 



Mixed Emotions On Blue?

Image via Wikipedia

With Rainbow trout season at Blue River being just a matter of weeks away, we should all be prepared for something a little different in the stocking program compared to years prior. 

Some of you remember last year the poll that asked the angling community as to their desire in the number and size of the Rainbow trout stocked in Blue.  Those that participated in the poll overwhelming chose, larger but fewer trout. 

Now, I thought that was the way I voted also, but looking back on some of my notes I discover that no... I voted for a season long mix of standard stockers and larger trout. 

One of the members of the BRFF recently had a discussion with Matt Gamble, area manager of Blue, and it looks like the larger but fewer trout plan is going in effect this season.  Ralph reported that Matt stated the first several stockings would be standard size stockers and the number of these trout would remain the same as in past years.  But, after those initial stockings, the trout will be somewhat larger, but fewer.

How this new effort is taken by the whole of the angling community at Blue remains to be seen.  If you're an angler that simply likes catching a lot of fish, then you may not like it.  But, if you're an angler that likes to catch larger fish... then you'll like this new effort. 

I think the only reason I voted for a good mix is because I see so many young anglers on Blue and I want those kids to have as many opportunities to catch trout as possible.  It's my simple belief that if they can catch a trout then we are creating future anglers for years to come.
 
Now, one option that wasn't available on the poll last year was... "More Fish And Larger."  I guess everyone and their dog would have voted for that option, but my gosh what a budget buster that would be for the wildlife department.   And... I remember something that Matt said to me sometime ago, "We don't want to make Blue, like Roaring River."  Matt is absolutely correct about that.  Roaring River is crowded elbow to elbow fishing and such a scenario at Blue would not be a good quality fishing experience.

It's going to be interesting to see how this season unfolds. 

Related articles by Zemanta

• A Japanese Form of Fly Fishing Gains Fans in the U.S. (nytimes.com)