Faces From The November 2009 Derby

Mi Amigo

I always enjoy to hear from Michael Mercurio from Arlington, Texas. I particularly enjoy knowing when he's headed for the Lady Blue because when Michael plans a trip to Blue he packs a big bag of enthusiasm not just for Blue but for fly fishing as a whole. Michael is really on fire for fly-fishing besides being one of Blue's biggest supporters and fans.

You see, when he's not partaking in the pleasures of Blue he's heavily involved in the famous waters of the San Juan. Michael is partners in Aztec Anglers and a director of the San Juan River Foundation. He also stays busy with his blog at flyfishpimp. Hell'va unique name huh?



Last Friday, Merc was up in the C&R and he and I agreed to meet at Seventeen at the end of the day to swap flies, visit, and maybe fish a little. Well, Michael was running slightly behind and I had already taken my waders off when he showed up. Anyhow, Michael couldn't leave without fishing Seventeen, which I believe he loves as much as I, so Miss Carol and I followed him down to take some pics.

I tell you what...I've seen some good drifting fly-fishers but Michael's line and hand control is simply awesome. The fly line coming out of his hand looks slick, almost fluid-like and it's a wonderful artsy thing to watch. I asked Michael what kind of line he had on and I believe he said Rio. May just have to get me some of that stuff.



When he got his first fish at Seventeen on Miss Carol and I bid Michael farewell and left him to his water. We knew it was getting late for him and he still had a drive back to Texas so we certainly didn't want this showman of fly-fishing somehow feeling obiligated to perform any encores.

Visit Michael's blog at flyfishpimp.

Derby Sunday

2009/2010 Trout Season - Day Eight Fishing

Miss Carol and I broke camp on derby Saturday because she had to work Sunday plus rain was predicted for Sunday and there's nothing worse than trying to deal with a wet tent.

At home Sunday morning Carol's alarm clock sounded like a siren from hell at 3:30 a.m. as I literally pushed myself from a horizontal position. I was still wore out from derby Saturday.

After several cups of coffee I loaded myself in the Prairie Schooner and headed for Blue arriving shortly before six o'clock. Chris Adams was up so being the true bum I am at times I was able to panhandle a good cup of coffee from this brother of the angle.

At six-thirty I had found a vacancy and believe it or not... it was just above the crossing. I quickly threw down stakes claiming my wellspring of good fortune that no man would be so bold to try and take.

By seven...I had my six derby trout...all twinkies...no remarkable size to any.

I now found myself with about six hours of time to kill on the river so I drove back to Seventeen and had myself a little beauty nap. I'm told that nap was a waste of time as far as cosmetic therapy...but it sure felt good. Had me a beer about mid-morning and then drove to Scotty's to counter the effects of the beer with a cup of his coffee. My poor body doesn't know what to expect.

I decided to fish a little more and before derby Sunday was said and done I must have caught thirty or more bows.

The rains came about eleven and that sent many people a-packin' and the attendance at the final weigh-in was light.

There was 190 participants in this November's derby which is a light crowd compared to the record of 283 set back in 2002.

Scotty did say he would like to see a bigger crowd for February, so stayed tuned folks...I figure we'll be working on that goal.

Back To The Fly Rod

2009/2010 Trout Season - Day Seven Fishing

It was a good twenty minutes before day break on derby Saturday and I found myself standing on the bank at Seventeen trying to reserve a spot for Miss Carol.

You see, Miss Carol picked up the fly rod early last season and actually done quite well with it. However her concerns being in the water and wading unfortunately sent her back to the bank and the jars of Power Bait and salmon eggs. She had decided to bait fish for this year's derby.

At the first sign of light she came to the river and took her position that I had been squatting on and I went about my way entering Seventeen and drifting flies through the pockets and runs.

Within thirty minutes I had my derby fish in the basket and was pretty well through with that part of this derby thing. Two hours later I looked at Carol standing on the bank...fish-less, looking rather sad so I gave her a holler asking her "Why don't you get your waders on and try the fly rod?"

Almost eagerly she replied "Okay!"



Coming back to the river at Seventeen dressed like any self respecting fly angler Miss Carol entered in the middle and we crossed over to Sam's Rock. It was here she started to drift...yes drift...an olive/yellow split-tail bugger through the run directly in front of her.

Although she missed a number of takes and most likely got sick of hearing me say "Mend, mend, mend!", she took two bows in fairly short fashion. The action then slowed and it was time to try something else.

Out came the Partridge and Orange and I tied it on as a trailer to the bugger. Three more bows came to Carol's hand and now she needed only one more trout.

After a break Miss Carol struggled to find bow number six so we headed for the Island below the crossing. Here in this sweetest of sweet spots she had number six on four different times but never brought any to hand. Carol would end her day with five bows under the belt.



For me personally this derby Saturday was the best derby experience I've yet to have. There was no hurry or rush to capture fish, the weather was absolutely perfect, and I got to spend some wonderful time with Miss Carol...time that reminded both of us that we truly are each others best friend.

Trout Tuesday

Trout Season 2009/2010 Day 6 Fishing

David was taking the last bite of his Scotty Burger when I approached the table and asked if he'd tossed the trout yet? He told me no and that it'd be several hours later this same afternoon which told me my timing was a little off as far as watching the stocking. I do love to watch the bows go in the river.

Today was my second attempt at my new plan of being able to spend time at Blue by manipulating my work schedule. On Tuesdays I can end my day at the Tishomingo store around the noon hour and also I can elect to make Tuesday a half-day...which I hereby announce I elect to do until further notice.

After talking to David, Scotty and I had some business things to tend to regarding his website. Scotty gave me some information from the Oklahoma Tourism Department regarding his site and I told him I'd take care of it once I got back to the bunkhouse today.




While in Scotty's I decided to have a look around to see how well he was stocked for the upcoming Derby this weekend. To me, it looked like Scotty had a small fortune in Power Bait for the bait anglers and spinners for the spin fishermen. The store was quite well prepared for this weekend's onslaught of trout aficionado's.



I also checked the most important department, at least to me, at Scotty's store which was the adult beverage section. It looked in pretty good shape too but I did remind Scotty to order a little extra...you know...just in case.



The river was absolutely beautiful today with crystal clear water in some of the more shallow stretches. The sun kept playing a game of peek-a-boo shining brightly for awhile then hiding behind some of the lofty, billowy, cradling-like breasts of a caring mother clouds. Just being at the river today was nurturing.

Around 1 o'clock I stepped in the river at the near side of Seventeen and today I really didn't expect much action. The last stocking was last Thursday and it was my understanding that with that stocking there were some loss of bows. Also, the river was quite pressured this past weekend which for sure thinned the numbers, so today I was just hoping for a glimpse of a bow.

With the same pattern I've used for the last four outings...the olive/yellow split-tail bugger, I flung that offering into the lower end of Seventeen. I had spotted the sweetest of pockets and using a mend, drift, high-stick presentation I met four bows in a matter of minutes.



After bow number four I cast a little upstream and hung my bugger on a rock. Determined not to loose that wonderfully, delightful, producing fly, I waded through my own fishing water which is not a smart thing to do but non-the-less the dirty deed was done. Retrieving my fly and finding myself in the middle of the river I decided to fish another mouth-watering pocket in front of me. Here, I would meet two more bows.




Since the water at Seventeen was crystal I decided to wade back to the bank and then wade up to the boulder upstream. Today was the first chance I have had this season to fish off the boulder.

If there were any bows around the boulder area they certainly wouldn't have won any congeniality awards today because they didn't give me so much as a howdy-do.

I bid those boulder bows, or lack of, farewell and stumbled back down to Seventeen but this time I was on the far side. It was time to do some swings through the lower end and this presentation brought two more bows for a total of eight. I was done.

I guess I could have stayed longer on Blue today...I was done by 2:30 p.m. but as it is with most things we do...moderation is key and this has become quite apparent to me in capturing bows.

And I might add, I seem to be very good at the moderation end of it these days.

Just An Idea

I've never known or learned of a fly-fisher on Blue that has got into serious trouble while on an outing at the river.

However, with accidents being accidents we never really know when one is coming our way. Being an optimist I hate to even suggest such a thing could happen at Blue but I never let my optimism outweigh the realism.

So I'm suggesting that you add one thing to your fly-fishing arsenal if you haven't already done so. It's a simple device called the whistle.

I would think that a whistle would go a long way in case of a slip and broken leg or a slip and bump on the head, waders full of water hanging onto a clump of alders. Even when we buddy fish we often get good distances from the buddy and the sound of a whistle will travel far.

I've worn a lanyard for years and love how effective they've been for me so a whistle is fixing to go on the lanyard as soon as I can find one.

There is one company in New Mexico that makes a nice lanyard and the whistle is included.



The lanyard with accessories above is available from Fly Dawg. You might want to check it out.

Nine By Nine

Trout Fishing 2009/2010 Day Five Fishing

Although this morning I was feeling one-hundred percent better than twenty-four hours prior, I started not to even go to Blue with this being my next to last day of vacation. I figured my old body could use a rest and there are plenty of chores to do around the bunkhouse and most importantly the boss wants them done. However, with a little more thought I concluded that I can rest tomorrow and also get the chores done. So, in the Prairie Schooner I went.

I arrived at the parking lot at 7:35 and walked down to the crossing and went about twenty-five feet upstream to Cottonwood Hole. The water at Cottonwood Hole is extremely easy to read and it didn't take me long to spot a slightly downstream pocket. With the same olive/yellow split tail bugger I've been using all week, I started drifting that fly through the pocket.



The bugger found seven bows in a very short order. There were two other fly-fishers standing on the crossing casting upstream and they weren't having any luck at all. After bow seven I spooled up and got the attention of one of the crossing fly-fishers and suggested he take that pocket before someone else got it. He nodded he would and I hope he did. He should have made a killing there.

Looking downstream there was a rather tall fly-fisher standing on the sandbar which was amazing to me with the river being up. From a distance it looked like Dr. David but I couldn't be sure. Even if it was it wouldn't have done me any good to go down there, because my short ass can't get out on the sandbar. If it was Dr. David I am sure he did well there... or at least I hope he did.

I was back in the Prairie Schooner by 8 o'clock. I looked over at Smitty's camp but he wasn't up yet. His pups were quite rowdy though. I decided to go down on Area 1 and have a look.

There were a lot of campers today in Area 1 but few fishing. Guess I could of had any water I wanted but chose to stop at Glory Hole.

At Glory Hole, with the same fly, I decided to fish the downstream end of that stretch. Trying to drift that bugger through the downstream end is quite a chore because the water really speeds up there, but I was able to catch two more bows in about five minutes.

I learn something each trout season and this past five days I've learned the importance of manipulating and feeding your fly into a pocket. To do that requires a lot of extra work but if you can get it down it will result in more hook-ups.

After the two bows at Glory I had decided to go back to the bunkhouse. Up on the road I ran into young Cody and he was riggin' his fly rod. Cody is not so young anymore...he's got his own pickup and he's driving. Guess Cody is coming of age. He politely informed me his intentions of entering the fly-fishing division at the trout derby and I hope he does. Cody may just be a teenager but he's good enough to win...I guarantee it.

I was back in the Prairie Schooner by nine o'clock and had nine bows under the belt so it was nine by nine today.

Tomorrow I'll rest.

Indecision And Indigestion

Trout Season 2009-2010 Day Four Fishing

This morning I had a bad case of indecision and indigestion.

Last night when I was trying to figure out what to do for supper I remembered how much Miss Carol loves broccoli so I fixed a Dutch Oven ground beef, broccoli rice casserole in the Dutch. It turned out rather nice according to Miss Carol and I thought it was rather good myself. Actually I absolutely gorged myself on the stuff.

This morning when I opened my eyes I immediately realized I was suffering from the aftermath of my hog-like eating habits of the night before. I was one sick puppy.

But, I had made plans to hit the river and particularly tag along with Donny Carter and Jamie Webster up in the Catch & Release. I got to the C&R rather early and there were already cars there. Sitting in the parking lot I was heavy with indecision. I theorized that if anglers were already here this early, and Donny and Jamie were coming then chances were there was going to be a crowd up in the C&R.

It doesn't take many to make a crowd up there. I finally decided that since I was local and have the opportunity to fish the C&R much more than those who have to travel, it would be better for me to not add to the crowd and wait another day. Besides that, I kind of invited myself along with Donny and Jamie because I thought it would be a good opportunity to take some good pictures without me trying to handle those fish and snap the photo...which is always a disaster.

I left the C&R and went to the main area driving to the south wilderness. At the south wilderness I had even more indecision and certainly more indigestion. I almost just started the Prairie Schooner to leave but then though I would give it a try even though I didn't have the stomach or legs for it.

I hiked up to Coyote Pass Falls which is the second barrel. This place always produces for me but today there was nothing going on. I could have went on upstream, but again... no stomach or legs, so I packed out.




The water up in the south wilderness was in good shape in the fast runs but the long stretches were still off-colored.

In the main parking lot I thought about just going to the bunkhouse but realized if I did that I would have a "skunk" day which I haven't experienced in seven years. That was unacceptable. I decided to try the Flats.




On the way to the Flats I ran into Smitty and Smitty had his furry friends with him. I usually see Smitty about one time a year at Blue and to me he's one of those unforgettable characters. Smitty had thrown stakes in the parking lot and told me he, and his friends, were staying for a couple of weeks.

At the Flats, Robert Murphy was coming out of the water as I was entering. Robert said he'd had a good morning at the Flats using the olive-yellow split-tail bugger which was exactly what I had tied on. Robert also offered a tip. He told me even though the pattern was a beadhead he had added an extra split.

Now, anytime Robert offers a tip I take it to heart and I also added a split and that seemed to be the ticket. With the extra current you have to get the fly down in the column. Once I found the pocket at the Flats the action was on. I quit on bow number ten and number ten came within thirty minutes after starting.

Leaving the Flats I walked back to the parking area and thought about visiting Murphy at 17 but was feeling worse than ever. I packed my skinny ass in the Prairie Schooner and headed for the bunkhouse.

Once at the bunkhouse I grabbed the Rolaids and Rantidine and made myself an over-the-counter drug cocktail.

I'm feeling much better now but broccoli is certainly going to be off the menu for some time to come.

That stuff can hurt you!