Arbuckle - Simpson Nature Festival

The Arbuckle-Simpson Nature Festival is scheduled for May 7th & 8th, 2010. If you like learning about the intricacies of nature and more particularly what makes this area so special then you'll want to sign up for this tour.

The tour includes an ecological evaluation of our Blue River and I believe it will be conducted by area manager Matt Gamble.

For more information visit the Arbuckle-Simpson Nature Festival site.

Tribute To Our Little Lady Blue

The Daily Oklahomans outdoors editor Ed Godfrey penned a most excellent article in this Sunday's edition paying tribute to the beauty of our little Blue River.

The only thing I can add to Godfrey's comments is that if you've never seen Blue River then you simply can't imagine the beauty you are missing. It's beauty that seems to be misplaced for sure and something unexpected in the middle of the prairie ocean.

Read Ed's article Southern Beauty.

Catching Up

Although I got to fish more than normal last week, I couldn't share any fishing or river reports because of the death of my laptop. However, now back on line it's time to do a little catching up.

FISHING WITH DAUGHTER MISSY

On a Thursday I had the pleasure of taking my daughter Missy to the river Blue. It would be Missy's first time to ever see Blue River, first time to ever hold a fly-rod, and first time to try and capture a bow.

She did all three.



Missy was a quick learner when she was a kid, very articulate and simply sharp and these days she still carries those attributes. We started out the hard way just upstream of the crossing. On Missy's right were over-hanging tree branches and on her left was the same. In front of her was the task which was to make a twenty foot roll cast upstream with a nine foot leader attached. Now... for many of us that may not sound like much of a chore but to a newcomer it can almost insurmountable. Also, Missy was fishing a tandem rig which would also cause some problems but instead of sighs there was laughter with both of us laughing at ourselves.

The fish simply weren't on the bite at our first spot so I told Missy to spool up and we headed for the flats below the Island. Here, Missy would start casting down and across and taking the swing.

I think one of the hardest things for a newcomer to recognize is the strike itself and this would prove to be the case for Missy. There would be a number of opportunities lost but never did she waver and then she brought her first ever trout to hand.



For me the pleasure of the day was simply getting to spend time with Missy doing what I love to do and hopefully something she will come to love.

It was a good, good day.

Thank you Missy.

SATURDAY - AN ILL FATED ADVENTURE

It's rare when Miss Carol and I get the same day off but Saturday would be such the case even though I had to hit work early but only stay for a while.

Both of us had been suffering from the stuff that winter time brings - chest colds, bronchitis, aches and pains, and generally we felt quite ill. However our rationale was that we'd feel just as bad sitting at the bunkhouse as we would standing in the river so to the river Blue we go.

Evidently we misunderstood the weather forecaster the night before because Saturday was suppose to be clear and dry. There was a steady rain when we left the bunkhouse but somehow we convinced ourselves it'd be gone by the time we hit the river. It wasn't!

Walking through the steady rain into the south wilderness we stopped to fish Coyote Pass and Miss Carol took the upstream side where she'd capture three bows. I fished the downstream side and struggled to capture just a couple. After thirty minutes or so the rain became too much and Carol took to the bank. Since the fishing was so slow here I asked her to walk just upstream a bit to the Cove.

At the Cove, Miss Carol took the upstream side as did I but there was nothing going on with the exception of the feisty smallmouth I battled from the shallows. Again the rain sent Carol to the bank and I went downstream thirty feet and started casting upstream into a falls. It was here the bows waited and it was dynamite action for a good twenty minutes. These bows have backs and tenacity. They fight like there is no tomorrow and in the current they can simply make your arm begin to ache. The rain continued, Carol looked miserable, so we started to head back.

Back at Coyote Pass the rain had briefly stopped and I asked Carol if she wanted to fish some more. Even though she didn't care to fish she wanted me to, so I asked her to watch me fish pocket water because it's something she'll someday enjoy once learned. In a hundred yard stretch of water I fished a bugger like a nymph but free-lining the bugger - no indicator. It was cast, drift, lift mend, drift, flip mend, strike and then hook-set. It was magical almost. Bow after bow came from pocket after pocket.

After a run of fifteen bows battled I found myself drunk from the joy of the pocket battles. Inebriated by the infinite possibilities this thing called fly-fishing offers, I swaggered... swooning like a young lass would upon her first deep kiss.

The day was complete.

THE NEXT DAY

Sunday was totally different from Saturday. The morning announced clear, bright sunlit skies so I headed to Blue once again. Again, the weather forecaster seem to have it wrong. On Saturday the forecast called for strong winds but there wasn't a whisper. On Sunday, the forecast was for rain but the sun was shining. However on Sunday... Saturday's winds come to bear.

Starting at the flats below the island casting down and across a bow came to hand right out of the box. Three or four more gladiators would be battled but the engagements were not hot and heavy. The wind wasn't hot either but quite heavy and agonizing.

Thinking there would be a wind break at the crossing because the river forks upstream I head for the rock on the upstream side of the crossing. Here, a strike indicator goes on about four foot deep. Casting upstream and mending, mending, mending - this is the type of fishing that young Kody says can put you to sleep. I agree... it can... unless the fish are biting. And they were. The fishing wasn't hot and heavy - just steady. Again though, the wind was simply too much and I lost interest in crossing swords with the wind Gods. I wanted to strike steel with bows but the blowhards drove me away.

AN HOUR ON TUESDAY



A work related task sent me the way of Tishomingo on Tuesday and I just knew I could squeeze an hour's worth of fishing in at Blue.

Today I would fish Ted's Pool for the first time this season. Last year there was a particular spot at Ted's Pool that was rewarding to me each and every time. At this spot the idea is to cast upstream thirty-five or forty feet and let the bugger sink and drift while keeping in contact with the fly. This water is, I believe, some of the deepest water on the river Blue. It has to be twenty or more feet deep. My problem on Tuesday in fishing here was I couldn't add split shot because my pliers were lost on the previous outing. Ten or twelve casts were made without even a bump -the fly simply wasn't getting deep enough in the column.

I spooled up and waded through the brew of this coffee cup to the rim where the shallow water waited and here I found bows in the pockets. Not a lot of bows but enough to make my hour worthwhile.

Before leaving I noticed a few risers but the rises weren't predominant even though the rays of the sun revealed a huge community of mayflies floating in the air. I just happened to look down into the river and noticed a steady stream of nymphal shucks. They looked like tiny white or clear crosses and they just kept coming, one after another after another. It was a really neat thing to see.

Eyes On The River

As it is with fishing in general... as it is with fishing at Blue River... there will always be a certain percentage of anglers that think they are above the rules and regulations that pertain to fishing and catch limits.

Limit laws are put in place for many reasons and it doesn't matter if the reason is part of a management plan or to provide equal recreational opportunity for all anglers.

However there are still some that think they are so clever and that they've devised a system of poaching that insures they'll never get caught. If indeed that is the thinking then I suggest they think again.

There are eyes watching the river and it's a concerted effort currently on Blue River.

There are a lot of young ones that come to Blue River and for them catching trout doesn't come as easy as it does for some of us older gents and ladies, so when someone blatantly takes more than their fair share of trout they are robbing the young ones of additional chances for a catch.

It's easy to understand how a newcomer to Blue fishing for trout for their first time and in their rush don't read the signs on the road or look at the regulations end up catching more than the limit. But, what is most inexcusable is when the "regulars" or familiar faces on Blue, who know the regulations better than their own name, get caught red-handed violating the daily limit. And... such a case recently happened at Blue River.

Now, I don't know how much the violation will cost the guy... but I hope it's a helluva lot and I also hope it shames him to such degree that the offense will never be repeated. It's bad enough seeing your own name in the local newspaper under the public records section. It's equally bad knowing that your fellow anglers and outdoorsmen now know you're not such a good sportsman after all.

Catching poachers is a time consuming effort and it takes a lot of patience by the Wildlife Department people. However if you're like me and poaching really gets your goat then there is something you can do to help. Whenever you're at Blue make sure you have the number to Operation Game Thief on your person or in your address book and if you see someone violating the daily limit law make that call. Your action will make for a better river for all those that come. The number to Operation Game Thief is 1-800-522-8039.

Prairie Ocean Ice Storm and Laptop Blues

It seems that mother nature is going to put a stop to angling for a couple of days with the ice storm that is developing as of this writing.

The storm looks to be short-lived and we should be back to angling and battling bows by early next week.

Although I've been fishing a good number of times I haven't been able to report any of my outings due to the death of my laptop. A new one has been ordered and should be here shortly.

Good fishing everyone.

The Sheer Beauty

There are a lot of fly-fishing videos out there today but this one is especially rare. It's beautifully done, a masterpiece if you will, and the fly angler himself is simply beautiful. Hope you enjoy this as much as I have.

Into The Wild

Last night Miss Carol and I made plans on where we would fish today. We knew that Jeff from Tom Beane would be at Honey Hole in the north wilderness area so we made plans to join Jeff. Jeff helped Miss Carol out last year by giving her a couple of his articulated buggers he ties and showed her how to fish them. But this morning Carol remembered she had an errand to do that wouldn't wait and we got a really late start to the river leaving our prairie home about 9:15.

We decided to go a shorter route but we still wanted to go into the wild and escape the masses that were in the campground area yesterday.

The fog was heavy breathed early this morning but on the trail down the sun was trying hard to burn away the thickness. Since the eagle had been spotted yesterday we packed the binoculars and had the camera ready to go this time. But as it would turn out we didn't see any eagles but did enjoy seeing lots of other wildlife. Just four miles from our prairie home at the Mill Creek bridge a bobcat darted across the road and this kitty was hooking it. At the Reagan Y a coyote was crossing the road also and once we reached the fish hatchery at Reagan there was a ton of geese and ducks on the holding ponds there. We thoroughly enjoyed the trip.

We were almost to the river when I realized this was the first time this year (2010) that Miss Carol has gone a-fishing and she hadn't renewed her license so we turn around and head back to Scotty's to get that done.



The weather was shaping up nicely when we picked up the trail. There was still a little haze in the air but it wasn't bad at all - just seemed like trout weather to me.

We were surprised at the number of cars in the wilderness parking lot when we arrived. Think we counted eight transports when we got there and there were fifteen when we left so the wilderness area also was quite popular.



About a half mile on the trail I convinced Carol to take the scenic route with me which runs by the river's edge. At least here you get to walk next to the river and climb rocks instead of staring at gravel and sand packed road.

Today we would fish a stretch of water no more than an eighth of a mile in length. And, we would fish water we've never fished before thinking the bows wouldn't migrate to such forks and braids. Evidently they do travel to such spots because we found them today.



Carol fished a bugger with a soft hackle trailer and I started with a bugger with bugger trailer - yes, that's right. Let me point out the buggers were different colors.



Carol would hook up with four bows only bringing two to hand and questioning herself as to why. Barb-less hooks my dear, barb-less hooks.



I concentrated on pocket fishing and picked up one bow here and one bow there with the bugger tandem. For me it was refreshing to fish so many areas I've never fished capturing bows and making mental notes as I fished along.

There was one stretch of water that Charlie Wright and I talked about not so long ago as to whether it could be waded and fished. This stretch is no longer than a football field, if that, and today I fished it and this is where most of the bows were captured. Three or four bows per pocket then move downstream to the next different shade of water.



We both took trash bags and picked up debris on our way in and out. Picked up this crappy Keystone can on the way out which tells us someone doesn't know or care about the rules in this area and could care less about trashing the river at the same time.

Upon arriving back at the parking area we came upon this curious sight. Seems like this poor lass had taken the polar bear plunge and she was sitting wrapped in a sleeping bag with her wardrobe hanging on the tree limb clothes line she had created. She was quite cheerful and I guess she accepted her fate as part of a fishing life.



The weather was really nice when we left Blue and looks to be rather nice for the next several days so come a-fishing everyone.

Sunday Browsing On The Prairie Ocean

Some of you may be interested in a Fly-tying event that will be taking place in Tulsa this coming week. The Oklahoman's Ed Godfrey tells us about it in his Outdoors Blog. Fly-tying Extravaganza.

I've never been a hunter because I never learned how and often regret it but I do have a lot of friends that are hunters and some are duck hunters. Seems like the duck hunting community has lost another spot to hunt and it seems to be a growing trend. Ed Godfrey also tells us about this latest development.

Another duck hunting spot lost.