Gorgeous Weekend At Blue River

This weekend was as pretty a weekend on Blue River as I've ever seen.  The sun was shining ever brightly on the masses of anglers, campers, and sight-seers. 

It was great camping weather even though it did get down to the freezing mark on Friday night.  The new tent heater I acquired works pretty good considering the fact I was in a summer tent.  Sleep certainly didn't come easy Friday night because my neighbor fell asleep and left his generator running until 3:45 a.m.  The next morning he came over to apologize and I told him I wished he just left it running because I was use to it by the time he'd shut it off.

Beautiful branch on Blue River

Fishing is pretty darn good.  Friday I started at 17, which wasn't fishing last weekend, but was this weekend.  Then I waded up to the boulder at 16, which was fishing last weekend but wasn't this weekend.  Just goes to show you, that we never really know about these fish. 

Next, I went to the ledge at the Island and this was a hot-spot.  Bryon Down and Steve Swenson were in the Flats below the Island and they said they had a treasure chest of fish they were trying to figure out.  As I left the Island it looked to me that Bryon and Steve had indeed figured what the trout wanted, because they were plucking them out.

Fished off the crossing a bit and took four trout there, and then it was time to hit Chimney Falls.  Chimney Falls was pretty hot too, but I did suffer a lot of subtle bites that resulted in a lot of misses. 

All in all, twenty-four fish came to hand Friday morning. 

Saturday, I did not wet a hook because we were trying to have our BRFF get-together.  Our get-together was kind of like organized chaos this year, but we did pull it off. 

Gosh, did we ever have a lot of food... a lot of good food.  Honestly, I don't know if I can remember what all we served up.  Donny and Linda Carter, served up a great Mexican dish along with a dessert.  Kevin Harris also provided a Dutch oven dessert.  Jeff Joseph made the biggest batch of jambalaya you've ever seen and there was a lot left over.  Harold and Eva Beck brought some beautiful and good stuffed jalapenos.  We also had El Paso Poo-Poops, sweet and sour chicken, some great bread, and other goodies. 

Although we were missing some people that usually always attend, we had some extra company in the form of our furry friends.  David Dillow brought his beautiful Irish Setter "Bree" and Bree is getting to be an old hand at these get-togethers.  Harold and Eva brought their beautiful chocolate colored friend, and Lane Kregel brought his gorgeous Golden Retriever.  All of these animals were simply beautiful and so well-behaved.  Dogs like Blue River. 

Harold and Eva's Stuffed Jalapeno's

 

Lane and his buddy.

 

Chimney Falls Rainbow

 

Sunday morning I ventured into the south wilderness.  I didn't go deep into the wilderness because I blew my legs Friday due to not being use to wading Blue in a long time in addition to trying to break a new pair of wading boots in.

I fished Coyote Pass and the Cove.  Honestly, the fishing was a little slow and spotty.  Two hours of fishing netted a total of nine bows.  It was easy to see that the flow has slowed down in some of the better spots in the south wilderness - drifts were painfully slow.  Also, there is still quite a bit of algae build, but this should go away rather quickly as the weather grows colder.

As far as flies that are producing... I've been terribly lazy.  In three outings I've caught about seventy trout, and all have been on buggers except one - that fish took a San Juan Worm. 

Breaking camp around noon on Sunday, I give thanks and leave the river.  This coming weekend is the trout derby, so expect a big crowd.

Tomorrow I fly fish for carp.



Trout Fever - Carp Dreams

Image by mharrsch via Flickr

Although I am in trout mode and feverish for their sight and their being in my hand, I evidently still have carp on my mind without really knowing it.

Last night, I dreamt I caught a carp on Rock Creek, and once getting it to the bank I couldn't escape the fact this carp looked like a Pekingese.  Now... what's that all about?

My dream didn't stop there.  A little later another carp was beached and as I walked to the creature to release it from the grasp of fur and feather... it sprouted wings and flew away.

Who can really explain dreams?  And what would Freud have to say?  Probably something like this.

"In the same way that psycho-analysis makes use of dream interpretation, it also profits by the study of the numerous little slips and mistakes which people make -- symptomatic actions, as they are called [...] I have pointed out that these phenomena are not accidental, that they require more than physiological explanations, that they have a meaning and can be interpreted, and that one is justified in inferring from them the presence of restrained or repressed intentions and intentions. [Freud, An Autobiographical Study (1925)]"

A carp that looks like a Pekingese?  That's just too weird. 

I'm going trout fishing this weekend - Friday through Monday.  Just pure trout, no other species.  On Blue River, the south wilderness, the north, Rocking Chair and a good number of other spots will be explored.

I just hope I don't catch a trout that looks like a Wiener Dog.

They Leak Now!

You know that three year old, 300 plus outing non-leaking pair of LL Bean waders I'm always bragging about?  Well... they darn sure leak now. 

For some reason this past Saturday, while fly-fishing for those pretty fish, I decided to blaze my own trail through the woods.  Stupid thing actually - I could have simply waded across and taken the cleared and well-defined path on the other side.  I guess it was one of those native moments - you know... a Lewis and Clark thing. 

While frolicking through the woods, an outstretched tentacle of a green brier grabbed the leg on my waders and that gosh-awful sound rippppp... came to bear. Immediately, that "Aw crap" moment hit me, followed by thirty seconds of self talk, where I affirmed to myself what I already know - subject line "I am a dumb-ass."

The patch job is currently curing.  I'll test it this weekend at the fly-fisher get-together.

I don't know... I think exploring is a lot of fun.  There are so many spots on Blue River that fly-fishers have yet to search or discover.  One that comes to mind is on the far end of Area 1 and called the Rocking Chair.  In all my years, I've never seen a fly-fisher try and fish off the Rocking Chair.  This season, I'm going to give it a go.

Speaking of the fly-fishing fellowship this weekend on Blue, I want to once again make it clear this event is open to all in the fly-fishing community at Blue River. We just need to know how many to expect.

Coming into my ownership is a brand new six weight TFO rod that I got for a bargain basement price... thanks to my good friend Charlie Wright.  Also, a new 14 inch Lodge Dutch oven has been acquired and both the rod and the Dutch will have their christening at Blue River this weekend.

In the Dutch, I'm going to try sweet and sour chicken.  Fortune cookies included. 

Saturday Trout - Sunday Carp

Charlie has gravitated to the next level of fly fishing for carp.  He is now catching carp on dry flies.  In the last week or so he has caught six carp on a dry fly pattern.

Charlie has created a pattern called the Thistle Missile and it looks a lot like a thistle.  He brought me one at work the other day, and I'm sure proud he did because I hate spinning and clipping deer hair. 

I took the Thistle Missile to the creek today hoping to see a surface feeding carp, but there wasn't any.  I'll just have to wait for that special moment. 

The creek's flow is really diminishing and the leaves are now falling faster than ever.  I only spent an hour on the creek today and probably shouldn't have went at all.  I had 100 things to do today, but knowing myself there will probably be 99 of them left undone at the end of the day.  Too bad procrastination isn't a virtue.  If it was... I'd be one righteous man.

Charlie has promised some pictures of the carp he caught on dry flies, but he's going out of town for a while.  I'll get them up when he gets back. 

Here's the catches of the day. 

A River Of Remembrance

Sometimes on the road to life we are thrown a curve ball, that is so fast and breaking, it's completely unexpected and throws us way off balance.  This past week was such for me. 

For the better half of this month my expectation of opening day on Blue River, with the trout being in place, has grown daily.  However, I also learned this past week of the passing of my dear friend Francis.  Francis and I not only worked together for seventeen years, but also enjoyed many a fine fishing trip.  During our friendship, Francis was always good to invite me to his wonderful family outings, and quiet simply... he was a good friend.

Although my plans today were to simply fish for these pretty fish, I'm now here to remember Francis.  It may seem odd to many that a man would bring his sorrow to the river, but that's what I doing today.  Such an act is not out of character for me - it's something I've done a number of times over the years.  In 2001, I attended part of the memorial service for my fly-fishing friend Curtis Hughes.  Part of his memorial was held on Blue.  I've also come here to mourn the passing of my mother, my wife Susie, and my companion dog Smokey.

I believe the reason I turn to the river for healing is in my belief that fly-fishing in not a thing we do, but rather a place we go or a place we are taken.  It is a place of peace and reflection.  I use the river as a healer, and the fly rod is the instrument used to connect with the river.

Stepping out of the prairie schooner shortly after seven, the brisk morning air greets me.  This morning the temperature is only six degrees above the freezing mark.  I head for Cottonwood Pool and the trout are indeed waiting for me.  Within thirty minutes, my hands are beginning to sting and hurt, and this reminds me of a cold March morning when Francis and I fished for the famed crappie of nearby Cumberland Pool.

It isn't long until a good sized group of anglers gather around Cottonwood Pool, so I decide to go elsewhere.  No matter where I go today, the bows are waiting, the water echoes, and my memories of Francis come to the forefront.

The pretty fish are quite rewarding today, and each brings a small measure of calming pleasure to my soul.  These tidbits of calmness slowly over-ride the lingering sadness that is bouncing around in my heavy chest and racing mind that constantly seems to ask the question..."Why?"

The trout are at Cottonwood Pool, Chuck's Ledge, the Island, the Riffles, and the Boulder at 17.  Glory Hole was a disappointment with only a few fish that showed interest.  But, at Glory Hole I remember a spring day that Francis, along with family and myself, cooked beef bourguinon in the Dutch oven.

With each trout that comes to hand, the healing continues.  So many of these trout today bear the parr marks that screams their youth.  I could not have brought myself to take any of their lives even if I wanted to.

Around eleven o'clock, I head back to the crossing and my day gets much lighter in seeing the familiar faces of Jon and Kay Bolig.  They both are fly-fishing due to Jon finally converting Kay over to the gentle sport.  Most intriguing is Kay's pink fly rod...and she is catching trout.  I visit with Jon and Kay for fifteen minutes or so and decide it is time to leave the river. 

Today, I meet 42 trout.  Today, I miss at least 100 trout.  I'll admit that today I was terribly rusty in my fly-fishing for trout life.  The reasons I missed so many opportunities is because I was using too big a pattern for such small fish, and it took me awhile to realize the trout were double-striking the fly. 

Today could have been a 100 fish day.  Today could have been a day just to sit along the riverside and take it all in.  And today, could have been a day to remember and fish, and heal... and I did both.

I give thanks and leave the river.



On Line Trout Derby Registration

If you wish to sign up for the Blue River Trout Derby, then print this form, fill it out, and mail it along with your $25.00 derby fee.

Blue River Trout Derby

Registration Form

Neither the Johnston County Chamber of Commerce nor any individual or organization assumes responsibility for damage, injury, or other problems which arise directly or indirectly from anyone's participation or involvement, in any way, in this event.
Having read and understood these conditions, the undersigned agrees to participate in the event.

Name_______________________________________________________________________

Address______________________________________________________________________

Phone_________________________________Age______________Sex___________________

Send pre-entry registration and check or money order for $25 to:                                                     

Trout Derby Scotty's Blue River One Stop
4501 S. Bullard Chapel Rd.
Tishomingo, OK 73460

The Beer Can Fly?

Image via Wikipedia

Gosh darn, dog-gone it!  I want some of these patterns!

Beer Can Fly catches big sucker.

Enjoy and have fun!

Wind Blown Expedition

The wind just about blew me off Rock Creek today.  The gusts had to be somewhere in the range of thirty miles an hour and the steady riffle on the creek at times were more like white-caps. 

I spent an hour and ten minutes on the creek today, and the first hour didn't catch a thing.  But, in the last ten minutes the action heated up.

Upon arriving at the creek, I immediately went into a stalking mode.  I've learned much about stalking carp, but two things in particular seem to stand out.  One thing is that it's quite easy, when stalking carp in water that is twenty to twenty-five feet wide, to fixate on the open water or far deeper water.  However, it's always best to check the inland, near, or shallow water by the island, sandbar, or bank.  Oftentimes, when we don't check this water first, we end up spooking a carp that we never noticed.  This is particularly important this time of year with the creek being the color it is.  These carp blend in so very well with the bottom of the creek they are quite easy to miss.

The second thing when stalking carp is to slow down, and then slow down some more.  I think this has been the most difficult thing for me just because I tend to be a hyper-active individual.  So, to counter my excited self, I make myself walk backwards when stalking carp.  It doesn't matter if I'm walking upstream or downstream, I walk backwards.

My entire stalking adventure was a big disappointment.  The strong winds of today created blankets of leaves on the creek.  I started out with the Prizefighter trying to place it in the clear water between the tears of the leaves blanket.  I was getting no interest with the Prizefighter so I switch to a brown and orange Backstabber.  Same drill - place the fly in the tears.  No interest from this fly. 

Giving up on the stalk I go back downstream and decide to fish blind.  I change patterns to a black and olive Backstabber and put it on what I thought was a shadow of a carp.  The fly hit the surface and I waited.  Shortly, I thought there was some movement in the tippet, but with the strong wind I wasn't sure.  Then I actually felt a bump and the line started to move so I set the hook.  A nice twenty-five incher came to hand, but unfortunately I waited too long to set and he swallowed the fly way down deep, so I cut the tippet in hopes this creature will live.

Now I am left with an olive and black Carpola Charlie and again I put it on what looks like the shadow of a carp.  This second carp actually picked the fly up and ran with it.  These two carp came to hand in less than ten minutes after that hour of disappointment.

Carp number 125 on Backstabber

 

Carp number 126 on Carpola Charlie.

I gave thanks and left the creek.