Chapter 58 Day 40 - Trout Season

A Baker's Dozen

It's hard to believe that today day forty of trout season arrived.  It seems like the season just started yesterday.  At this clip, we will be half way through trout season at Blue river before we know it. 

It was a gorgeous day on the river today.  Not arriving until half past mid-morning, the weather was still crisp and somewhat nipply, if you will. 

Pushing the ponies across the river at Hughes Crossing we turn into the campsite overlooking Horseshoe Falls and Ted's Pool.  Once there, I didn't know whether to slap leather hard across the ponies backside or to pull up on the reigns and stomp the foot-brake.  Within the campsite were a lot of tents, vehicles, and people. 

Deciding to stake my claim in the water no matter what, the ponies were pulled back and hitched.  A trail was struck to the water and to my utter amazement there wasn't a soul on the river at Ted's Pool.  Either folk had fished early or not fished at all because of the cold morning temperatures. 

On the tying desk last night, I found a pink woolly bugger... yes pink.  Can't remember why I tied a pink bugger - probably to torment pan fish or something, but, I grabbed the fly because I wanted to see if a trout would bite this... uh, not your usual fly you want to wade around the river when others are watching. 

I tie it on and send it sailing into the stew.  Damn thing catches a trout.  Send it sailing again and there is a hard strike followed by a hard hook-set.  Trout gets flies, fly fisher gets empty tippet end. 

Then an olive bugger goes on and this boy goes to work right away.  Today, it was much of the same as it's been on the last several outings - deep in the column, slow to little action on the fly.  The action wasn't hot and heavy and the pool was worked from the right to the left.  Then however, I shortened the distance and about six feet off a ledge was a remarkable little pocket.  A pocket where the trout were waiting. 

After ten trout were brought to hand the bugger is cut off and retired.  Prince Nymph hasn't seen any action on the last several trips so he goes into the stew. 

Funny thing about the Prince today - the fly had to be fished deep and a dead drift by itself wasn't producing.  After a long dead drift a little twitch was needed to get the fish to react.  Prince didn't do nary as well as the bugger, but, the two fish the fly took were significantly larger than the fish the bugger took. 

Never again will I complain about my feet being numb while fly-fishing and here's why.  It wasn't long after the second trout was taken by Prince that I heard voices behind me on Horseshoe Falls.  The voices had distinct Hispanic flavorings and as I turn to look I see a family of four with pant legs rolled up and barefooted, wading across the falls.  Barefooted!  This had to be the toughest family of all time!  Here I was in waders with neoprene booties and heavy duty wading shoes and I was already going numb. 

Leaving Ted's Pool I go to Scotty's to get a beer and run into James Russell.  James has been gone from Blue River for about two and a half years and it was good to see him.  He had his friends Jack and Bruce with him and they had been fly fishing around the crossing early. 

After they had lunch we met up downstream at Glory Hole to fish again.  However, the afternoon was terribly off as far as fishing.  After about an hour I bid goodbye to James and friends and headed to the prairie home. 

I left the river with a baker's dozen of trout to hand. 

Chapter 58 Day 39 - Trout Season

Avoiding The Pattern Fatigue Trap

I admit it.  When it comes to my fly fishing life these days, I tend to be a little bit lazy.  Hasn't always been that way, and I'm not for certain it is all due to laziness.  Sometimes I look at it as a matter of voiding inconvenience.

Tying flies on the tippet these days is not as easy as it use to be.  If, by chance, the reading glasses are left behind at the bunk house, then I've pretty much screwed the pooch as far as changing flies a lot on that particular outing. 

So, my choices are to suffer from pattern fatigue or constantly keep moving. 

All of us has experienced this same thing.  We arrive at a particular stretch of water, a pocket, a run, a back eddy and we toss a fly into the punch and with the first cast bring a bow to hand.  Then on the next ten casts we bring anywhere from seven to ten more trout to hand.  But... then it all quits.  Another dozen casts and not nary a bite.  That's pattern fatigue.

Pattern fatigue is quite simple.  The fish in a certain structure of water you are fishing simply get wise to the pattern being used.  At that occurrence it's time for us to make a decision to change patterns or simply move to another body of water. 

I've been inclined, here of late, to move to another body of water rather than tie on a new pattern.  However, at times it is to wonder if I'm cheating myself.  The pattern doesn't actually have to change - the color can, and then if that doesn't work then it's time to completely change the pattern.  In other words, you started and did well with a streamer, then once that quit, changed color on that same streamer pattern and if there's still no improvement, it's time to consider a nymph or something else.

Of course if the trout are keying on midges let's say, there's probably no reason to move or often change patterns if you can find the right stage of midge life the trout are after.  In this case you'll not change patterns, but, rather life cycle. 

Pattern fatigue is easy to fall into, but, can easily be avoided by holding your spot (where you already know there are fish) and going into the fly box until you find what the fish want.

Chapter 58 Day 38 - Trout Season

Good New For An Already Pretty River

It's always pleasing to hear some good news about one of our rivers.  Good news is something that seems to come rarely these days and times. 

Just last week, I shared not so good news about the Denver South Platte and how the concern and action of one man became infectious.  Through that process the news turned out on the good side for this Denver river that so many in that area hold good favor for.

On Monday, there was a news release from the Oklahoma Nature Conservancy announcing the purchase of almost 500 acres along Blue River. 

According to Mike Furh, state Director of the Oklahoma Nature Conservancy, the purchase of this tract of land is the first in a long time and unlike usual acquisitions, which are already in pristine shape, this particular purchase presents the challenge of rehabbing the land along the river. 

Furh stated, "This is a river project." 

When I read the words "river project" a smile came to my face.  Owning the philosophy that "upstream is downstream", I believe the efforts of the Oklahoma Nature Conservancy will lead to a better river overall. 

Furh went on to mention the issue of water quality, which is often overlooked in this time when quantities of water far overshadowed quality. 

The tract of land in question is somewhat north of land owned by the Oklahoma Department of Wildlife, but, not so far that the efforts of the Nature Conservancy will directly benefit the portion of river that serves as a fall and winter trout fishery and overall wonderful year round fishery.  

Chapter 58 Day 37 - Trout Season

Garage Sale Flies Continued

Going through the stash of garage/estate sale flies tonight I came across these pretties.  This time I knew right away what the name of this pattern was. 

So, here we go.

What is the name of this fly?  (Hint - Starts with a "M" and is a feminine name).

Will this fly catch Blue River trout?  Oh yeah... or at least it has before. 

How to fish this pattern?  Always trailed it behind a lead fly, however, I am sure it will catch fish on it's own. 

Will I use this fly this season on Blue River?  Sure, plan on tying it on soon and I do expect it to produce. 

If you know the name of this fly then please leave a comment.  

Chapter 58 Day 36 - Trout Season

The Colors That Carp Like

It's trout season no doubt.  It's also chilly outside with the wind chill delivering a feel factor of 17 degrees... way too cool for these old bones. 

So, a lot of time is being spent on the vise these cold days.  No, not too many trout flies are being churned - have plenty of those.  However, there are carp flies and carp season is only mere months away. 

When it comes to the colors that carp like, orange usually comes to mind.  During the 2010 carp season, orange was a predominant color used in the quest of capturing carp.

The top producing fly of that season was the Carpola Charlie tied in orange and olive.  Other top producers int he Carpola Charlie series included orange and yellow, and orange and brown.

When thinking of orange for carp how can I forget Mr. P's fabulous Carp Carrot.  Wow... what an effective fly.  Used this pattern a lot also in 2010 and there were times when nothing else would work the Carp Carrot would.  Hat's off to the inventor of the Carp Carrot.

Then there is the color white.  Carp seem to like white also. 

2011 was a disaster of a carp by fly season here on the prairie ocean due to the drought and extreme heat.  We had basically the months of late March, April, and early May.  During those months I stuck with the color white and this is what took the large majority of carp I captured.

In 2010, another top producer was the white wormball known as the Great White Hope.

During April of 2010 and early last season, this color and pattern was, at a time, the go-to fly.  Eventually the carp seem to see the fly coming, having met it before, and production fell.  But... on how good it was for a while.

The Crazy Charlie, another all white fly, was very effective in 2011 also.  And, then there was the Mysis Shrimp which was a killer pattern.



On the last trip to the fly shop I made sure plenty of orange and white materials went in the shopping cart. 

Going to the vise to tie up some more carp appetizers.  

Chapter 58 Day 35 - Trout Season

Diners, Drive-Ins, Dives And Fly Fishing

There's a stew on the stove-top, and as I peck on this laptop the stew is in the stewing stage. 

With the weather being as brutal as it's been today, a chance at the river was out of the question.  Maybe, if I were a younger man a trip would have been possible, but a younger man I am not and that is fodder for another piece later on. 

The sky was gray all day and that somehow always says to me that it's the perfect day to go fly fishing for trout.  However, the temperature has not penetrated the forty mark and the wind is as relentless as I have seen this trout season. 

So, I cook today. 

And since I am cooking, it reminds me of the more eclectic approach I take to fly fishing these days and one of the aspects of that is... good food... somewhere along the way to the water or back.

For years, if you walked into Scotty's Blue River One Stop, Scotty was the chief, head cook, bottle washer, janitor, bait expert, trout fishing therapist, propane tank filler, and all-around good guy.  Back then, if you ordered a hamburger you got what is known as a "Scotty Burger".

However, there came a lady named Gloria and she took over many of the duties including cooking burgers.  Scotty Burgers would rival any hamburger, anytime, anywhere.  They were simply that good and greasy.  But, I, like others, learned something when Gloria came along.

If you go to Scotty's place today and he is on the grill then you ask for a Scotty Burger.  However, if Gloria is on the grill... don't dare ask for a Scotty Burger.  If you do, she will tell you quite promptly and plainly she doesn't cook Scotty Burgers... she cooks Gloria Burgers. 

You know what?  Her burgers are as good as Scotty's. 

Both burgers are so good, I've been thinking about trying to contact Guy Fieri and his show Diners, Drive-Ins, and Dives and see if Guy would come shoot a segment on these wonderful palate pleasing patties.

Guy, being the hoot he is, would probably get behind the grill and flip a few burgers himself.  Then, as he usually does in front of the camera, he'll cram about half of one of Scotty's or Gloria's burgers in his mouth and declare, "Wow man, that's out of the park", or "Wow man, that's out of bounds", or Wow man, that's patent pending", or one of his other famous quotes.

After he wraps his shoot, I figure some of us could kind of surround Guy and begin to wear his arse out about fly-fishing down on Blue River.  We could have it all planned and staged, having a set of waders ready for him.  Then, we get Guy down there and put a fly rod in his hand to see if this fellow that can cook so good... can fish so good. 

It will be a blast!  And... Guy will probably catch some trout too.  

Chapter 58 Day 34 - Trout Season

No Trout Just Scout

Anytime it comes a shower of rain, you can bet your bottom dollar that Charlie will go to the creek to scout for carp.  He learned a long time ago that the rain seems to get the carp out and about... just like yesterday.  And, yes yesterday Charlie was on the creek. 

He reported seeing a good number of carp up in the shallows feeding.  Usually this time of year we see very few carp at all.

This morning was a work morning for me so instead of going to Blue River, I decided to do a little scouting of my own. 

The creek is currently gin clear in spots, but still quite low in spite of the fall and cold season moisture we have received.  The nine inches of rain we received in one night certainly did some sculpting on this creek and parts of it have been changed dramatically. 

I only seen one lone carp while on the creek, but, even that was encouraging right now. 

I also took a fly with me that I wanted to test to see how it would flow and land in the water.  I've been trying to come up with an egg pattern that the grand and golden ones will be interested in. 

What I've come up with is a simple thing actually.  An egg on a curved hook with dumbbell eyes and a little antron on the arse end to try and disguise the hook point a little.  It settles to the bottom each and every time with the hook point riding up.  If the carp take an interest in this fly it will be one carp hooking son-of-a-gun. 

Think I'll call it the Sunny Side Up Egg Carp Fly. 



Chapter 58 Day 33 - Trout Season

Standing In The River Under The Cold, Cold Rain

The fly fisher continued to gather his gear and take to the transport outside.  Sitting on a kitchen chair, hands formed around her coffee cup, his wife watched him pace back and forth.  Already, she had made commentary as to how wretched the weather was this day.  Damp weather that was certainly cause for a man to fall ill. Her words of concern, however, seem to fall short of ear-shot.  

As he made another trip to the transport, he realized his wives concern and decided to address her in order to calm her mind. 

"My love, today I will stand in the river under the cold, cold rain and at that place I will weave a magnificent story of epic battles with the trout.

My expectation is high; my confidence swells; I fear not standing in the river under the cold, cold rain.  I will return to you with great tales, grand stories of how on this day, on a level field of battle, I dispensed great amounts of Tom's Trickery on the unsuspecting trout. 

The trout will look at my flies as grand gifts and they will attack them with a passioned intensity... impaling themselves on the sharp lance.  Escape they will try, but, they will capitulate as they come to my hand.  The number of trout fooled today will be staggering.

And, when I return home to you and tell the grand story you most assuredly will tell others and those others will come to our home to gather me and hoist me high to their shoulders.  Then they will parade me down the road and call to yet others proclaiming "Here is the true trickster of trout.  For sure, he is a jolly good fellow." 

As the parade continues down the road, the fanfare will only grow and all will go to a central place.  At that place the good food and fine wine will come forth and we will revel late into the night.

I promise you my wife, I will carry a warming ale with me today.  The kind of ale that blocks the chill from the bone and makes jolly a man.  The kind of ale of that great warrior Beowulf's time; the ale he drank at Mead-Hall after his great victory.  My victory today will be similar.

I tarry no longer sweet wife, the trout await"

Standing in the river under the cold, cold rain it didn't take long for reality to set.  The fly fisher had been standing in the river for an hour and half that more.  To his credit, he had only four trout - not the kind of numbers grand stories are made of.  Numbers that will not cause fanfare or a cause to be gathered and hoisted high to the shoulders.  Not the numbers that will parade a man down the street where a grand celebration at a central place, with good food and fine wine will come forth.

The rain dripped from the brim of his hat.  Rain drops exploded and burst upon his shoulders.  His body shivered and quake, trying to warm itself.  Rain found it's way to the nape of his neck chilling the spine.  The ale, long since gone, was not enough to ward off the effects of standing in the river under a cold, cold rain. 

He spooled up and waddled up the hill to return home. 

At home, as he opened the door and stood in the threshold looking similar to a drown rodent his wife arose from her chair.  She had words to dispense, words that she had been holding and would now release.

"The cough and cold medicine is on the table - I'm going shopping.  See you later o' great trickster of trout."