Dear Carp - In The Chocolate Brown

Dear Carp,

It has been two weeks my friends since I've been able to come to you.  As you already know, my kind has been slammed by violent weather - the kind that takes life.  Our long and consistent prayers for rain has paid off and we have been rewarding handsomely. 

The downside to the wonderful bounty of rain we've received is that it does keep the angler from having much chance, if any, of communicating with your sort. 

 

Yesterday I could bear no more and came to you home in hopes of seeing one of you at least.  Visibility was nil to none however, but I remembered a tactic that Gregg in Idaho uses - he fishes the bubbles. 

 

Fairly close to the fringe of your home I saw bubbles and watched patiently as the bubbles were moving along and this told me that one of your kind was making tracks. 

 

The Aftermath that I so favor now went out in front of the bubbles where I let it set for just a moment.  Upon lifting my rod tip I felt a presence and then the water exploded.  Fishing the bubbles worked on this occasion and a fine young member of your clan came in for the branding.

 

 

Although it felt wonderful being with you today, I figure it will be another week or ten days before your home clears enough for me to return. 

 

Enjoy the bounty of water coming into your home - more may come, more may not come.  You do indeed live day by day. 

 

 

Sincerely,

 

 

Prairie Ocean Fly Fisher 



Dear Carp - The Monsters

Dear Carp,

I hoped to come see you yesterday my friends, but the weather was extremely threatening as the monsters were on the ground laying devastation as they went.  Before they were through, the monsters had claimed 91 souls and it's still early in the rescue and recovery. 

I did enjoy my time with you mid-morn on Saturday.  Within two minutes after arriving at your home I met the first citizen of the morning in the form and fashion of a young and fascinating Mirror. 

 

 

Several minutes later the second citizen latched onto the fluro chartreuse bug I have been sending out lately.  Of the last eight or ten citizens I have met, all but one have favored this bug called Aftermath.

 

 

 

Deciding to leave the pasture at Honey Hole, I traveled to the pasture Big Well Springs.  Here, I make a long distance call with the Aftermath and a rather brawny member of your clan grabbed it and ran.  Our conversation lasted a good time, but then my call was suddenly disconnected due to the line being broken. 

 

As I sent out a new Aftermath, by way of long distance, another citizen took my offering on the blind and our talk begin.  As we were talking someone in my world was wanting to talk to me.  I could tell this by the buzzing in my pocket, but that call would have to wait. 

 

Turns out the caller was Van and he was headed for the fly shop in Fort Worth, and friends guess what he was going to get me?  Some more fluro chartreuse body material so I can tie you many more of these gifts you so favor. 

 

 

My friends I have news to share with you.  There is a new lass that has come into my workplace life and she is one dandy firecracker of a gal.  She brings to the workplace great knowledge of the work I do and that means I can have more time with you now.  At least this is my hope.

 

The rain is coming as I close this letter and it's a good rain.  Rejoice in the bounty my friends, rejoice.

 

 

Sincerely,

 

 

Prairie Ocean Fly Fisher 



 



 

Dear Carp - The Rematch And The Blessing

Dear Carp,

Yesterday I went to the mercantile store extra early, where I worked in a fevered pace and harder than usual in order to leave the store early and come to you.  I came to you and yours looking for a redeeming rematch to the whipping I took the day prior. 

When I arrived at your home the thunder clouds had begun to form and take a firm stance.  The thunder was rolling and lightning streaked across the western sky.  The sky was letting go of only a few sprinkles of rain, but they seemed to be drops of hope.

In the upper shallows I saw one of your citizens that was quite impressive, so I sent out a Creek Critter his way.  My gift landed to his right and I watched his movement, which told me he liked what he saw.  A soft jab followed and we were connected in the rematch that I was looking for.

This fellow was stout with big shoulders and it wasn't long until he took me to the center of the mat, if you will, and there we found ourselves in the middle of the creek as the sky opened up and the good rains came.  The thunder was now louder and the lightning even more threatening.  I felt like I was in an unsafe place, but it was the place I wanted to be in hopes of making my comeback. 

Ten minutes passed and I finally worked my opponent into a corner and in this case the corner was the fringe of the creek.  With a gentle and subtle hand I took his tail in my hand and with my other hand cradle his underside to lift him out of the water.

 

 

After visiting with this citizen it was time to get him back in the drink and say adios.  He swam away quite healthy.

 

 

It wasn't long after the battle the real blessing for you and your kind not to mention angler alike came.  The sky opened up even more and the most delightful thunder shower began.  An inch and half of rain is what we received and although we need much more, this event certainly helps us all. 

 

Blessings sometimes come in short portions and perhaps more will come our way.

 

 

Sincerely,

 

 

Prairie Ocean Fly Fisher



 

Dear Carp - Unanimous Decision

Dear Carp,

If the ring-side judges had been positioned at the fringe of your home today, they would have declared a unanimous decision for you and your kind declaring you the victor.  Thanks for the arse kicking.

In round one I choose to lead with the original Aftermath gift I tied some weeks ago.  With the brightly colored body, appetizing worm tail at one end, and the tantalizing fibers that undulate, this gift is hard for any fish to refuse.  It's a Trojan horse of sorts. 

With the Aftermath I threw the first punch, but evidently the punch was quite faint.  The citizen that took that blow threw a counterpunch and it was hard enough to knock the Aftermath out of commission and the gift became the property of that citizen. 

In round two I choose an olive Curiosity with brown tail and targeted a rather large citizen of your community.  With a long distance haymaker that missed it's mark, this citizen decided to catch me off guard and claim victory in round two by knocking out my second contender.

I was well behind in the early rounds, so for round three I tied on a brand new Aftermath that had just been created about an hour prior.  In this round I would begin to make a comeback and was able to put a younger citizen on the mat.

 

When the bell sounded for round four I was feeling quite confident as I sent the Aftermath out into the middle of the ring.  I took a hit and as I counterpunched, the Aftermath came sailing out of the ring and landed high in a tree where, unfortunately, this pugilist was lost.

 

I then threw in the towel.  My arse had been kicked. 

 

It's good for the angler to have a good old fashion arse kicking every once in a while.  A arse kicking knocks us off that high and haughty horse we sometimes ride when we begin to think we can come to you and capture you at will. 

 

An arse kicking is also good for the angler because once we accept our defeat we can spend more time enjoying the beauty that surrounds us.  Today, I took great pleasure in simply admiring the trees and the fine details they own. 

 

 

 

As I sit under the tree with a refreshing breeze cooling the summer-like temperatures I enjoyed a most delightful musical courtesy of the birds above.  Never have I heard the birds put on such a wonderful concert. 

 

My friends, I do not know when I will return for a rematch.  The mercantile store is still robbing me of much time and it's time I miss so much.

 

Of all the time with you that I am denied as a result of my servitude at the store I think the time I miss the most is that time I find myself standing at the fringe of your home as day breaks. 

 

Maybe soon I can stand there again.

 

 

Sincerely,

 

 

Prairie Ocean Fly Fisher

 



Dear Carp - A Long Time Coming

Dear Carp,

It has been well over two weeks since I come to you last.  My reason for not visiting with you is the same as usual.  My employment is keeping me away from you and your kind.  With a new project under my wing at work I find myself in a do or die situation.  Unfortunately, I have no choice but to see the new project to a path of success and have given my word to do just that.  So, my time in coming to you may very well be scattered and scant.

It still seems the rain fall cannot find us.  In the last two weeks there have been many promises of rain but simple traces have been delivered.  They say that this situation is a cycle, but I would argue that the cycle we are experiencing has been far extended past the usual length of a drought. 

It pains Charlie, Van, and yours truly to see you in such a situation.  Drought is not good for fish nor man, but you are the ones that will suffer the most.  We will continue to hold out hope that the good rains will come soon.

Today, as I stepped at the threshold of your home, I spotted a feeding carp in the upper shallows.  I sent out a yellow bug like the Aftermath and he tried to eat it, but I missed an easy hook set.  A few seconds later I saw another of your citizens and he too liked the yellow bug and this time the hook set was good. 

 

 

Perhaps I will get to visit with you again sooner rather than later. 

 

Perch Plucking With A Goose

Today I did something I haven't done in a long time and it felt good.  Today, I went fly fishing for the perch.

Yesterday while getting blown away by the wind on Blue River fly fishing with my buddy Van, I commented to Van that I thought I would fish the pasture known as Forty Foot on the sea lane Rock Creek in pursuit of the carp Van has been telling me about.

However, the sun stayed hidden all day today behind a totally overcast sky and that's when I decided to leave the carp flies behind and grab the small and vividly colored flies that the little fellows so like.

 

I've noticed I am a totally different fly fisherman when pursuing the carp compared to pursuing the perch.  When seeking communication with the carp I become a stalker and hunter and carry a heavy conviction to successfully meet one of the grand ones.  However, when pursuing the perch I have none of the aforementioned tendencies and I carry only a state of relaxation, a peace with existence, and fond memories of my youth fishing alongside my grandfather.  My grandfather taught me to fish by introducing me to the perch.  To my grandfather... and the perch, I owe more than I can ever repay. 

 

Upon arriving at Forty Foot I was the sole human being, but I did have company in the form and fashion of one solitaire goose.  He was looking at me looking at him looking at me, or maybe I was looking at him while he was looking at me looking at him.  I'm not for sure... it gets kind of confusing where your staring at a goose. 

 

The goose seemed quite unconcerned about what I was doing and stayed around for a good bit until he took flight and flew directly over my head like a B-52 on a bombing mission.  Fortunately he didn't bomb me.

 

 

 

As in most cases, the perch today were more than willing and I think this is one reason they are simply fun.  Perch, whether it be the Long ear, Redbreast, Blue Gill, Red Ear, Rock Bass, or any of the others that make up the menagerie of the pan-fish community, always give as good as they get.  I'm not for sure if it's their curiosity or voracious appetites that cause them to absolutely inhale a bright colored or small imitation fly, but I have learned that we always need to make sure to use barb-less hooks or mash the barb completely down.  With perch, there is a high probability they will swallow our flies down deep. 

 

 

 

Today, the perch brought a little sunshine to a somewhat gloomy day. 

 

I am a fortunate man to live such a wonderful life through fly fishing.  I wish the goose would have stuck around a little longer.  

 



 

 



Peace Offering

My buddy, then former buddy, now brand new buddy Van Stacey came by today with a peace offering of sorts to try and say, in an around about way, "Sorry for catching a Redhorse Sucker without you being there." 

Van's peace offering came in the form and fashion of those wonderful and highly sought-after delicacies from the woods where the wild wood weed and other natural wonders grow. 

Van's gift is certainly enough to make us "buds" again without the hugs and kisses and besides that we're not built that way anyhow. 

We now have a fly-fishing trip planned for this weekend in search of bass, trout, carp, and yes... that darn Blue River Redhorse Sucker that is eluding me. 

The morels are going in the batter and frying pan tomorrow.

I'm real good right now.

Blue River Redhorse Sucker Club Grows

On Saturday the exclusive Blue River Redhorse Club added a new member.... and it wasn't me.

Yours truly was attending the Dutch Oven Cook-off competition as part of the Arbuckle Simpson Nature Festival.  This event would require a good deal of work and time, and there wouldn't be anytime for this fly fisher to get to Blue River or anywhere else to fish. 

Around mid-morning, Van Stacey and his lovely wife Kempy (my daughter I might add) showed up at the cook-off where Van wasted little time in obligingly sampling my Dutch oven fare.  I think it was somewhere between a bite of roasted vegetables and Mexican cornbread that Van announced, directed at me, that he would indeed be going to Blue River to fly fish.  A few seconds later he made the boast that he thought while he was there he would just go ahead and catch a Redhorse Sucker, which he very well knows has been something I desperately want to achieve. 

Here I was arse deep in Dutch ovens and charcoal and old buddy Van was rubbing the salt in.  Perhaps I should now say former old buddy. 

After stuffing his face with vittles, Van and Kempy departed my company and headed to Blue River.  I had to stick around the cook-off for the results and as soon as that was done I dead-headed back to the bunkhouse. 

 

Three hours later, while sitting at the Sonic waiting on my No. 1 Cheeseburger to arrive... you know who poked a cell phone in front of my face with a picture displayed.  Although the sun was blocking my view I could tell it was Van, and in his hand was one Redhorse Sucker.  There, in that picture was Van sporting a possum face smile and holding the Blue River species I so want to catch. So, on April 27th, Van comes and eats my Dutch oven food, tells me he's going fly fishing (when he knows I can't), and that he might just catch a Redhorse Sucker, which he does and then shares with me a picture with a smirk on his face.  Rubbing more salt... just keep on rubbing Mr. Stacey. 

 

If that ain't a shit-eatin' grin on his face, I've never seen one.

Van now becomes a member of the elite Blue River Redhorse Sucker Club and I think his entry raises the membership to nine.  He probably doesn't want me to tell you the pattern he caught this Redhorse on, but I'm going to... because I can - it was our favored Brown Bugger.