Wishing To Be There

Although I would much rather be there, I am resigned to follow the World Fly Fishing Championship that is currently taking place in the Czech Republic.  Here is action from day 3.

Carp, Music, Art, And Brew

Most likely those that read my scribblings with some kind of frequent fashion have come to believe that I am one dimensional, with that dimension owned being catching carp and other species with the flies I tie. 

I will be the first to admit that I am far from being the most interesting man in the world, however I do have other interests besides fly fishing. 

When Saturday rolled around I will tell you that I had an itch to capture a carp by way of fly.  But, I also knew there was an event taking place on Saturday and this event held a number of things that draw and hold my interest.  Therefore, I decided to go to the carp creek and catch one carp and one carp only.

Before leaving the bunkhouse I decided to tie up another Aftermath carp fly.  On this fly though, I wanted to try something new by adding pink, more precisely cerise, to the pattern.  Cerise is the color that brought me hundreds of trout this past trout season using the Frenchie pattern.  Taking the cerise colored rabbit fur I gave the Aftermath a collar and off to the creek we went.

The pasture I chose to fish is called Big Well Springs.  The Johnson grass here is taller than I am and trying to wade through it is like being a jungle warfare combatant.  On the other hand, the tall Johnson grass gives the angler fantastic concealment and the carp can be approached undetected.  Upstream I saw movement in the water and it was telling me feeding carp in the shallows.

I saw a young carp and decided to target this lad.  The cast I made was less than spectacular with the fly going across the back end of the carp.  He immediately begin to move and I quickly pulled the fly past him and let it drop about a foot in front.  He swam straight to the fly and sucked it in. 

For a youngster he had a lot of fight. 

 

About the time I released the carp the event downtown was scheduled to begin, so fishing was done for me and it was back to the bunkhouse to get cleaned up.

 

 

The Artesian hotel, spa, and resort is one of Oklahoma's grandest destinations.  The Chickasaw Nation finished this recreation of the famous Artesian hotel about a year ago and since it's opening travelers have flocked to take in it's beauty.  On Saturday, the first Artesian Arts Festival was held. 

 

Native art has always been an attraction for me.  Perhaps it's because I'm an Oklahoman and Oklahoma is rich in may different native tribes.  Or maybe it was the time I spent on the artisan streets of Albuquerque and Santa Fe years ago.  For me there is something wholesome and spiritual about native American art.

 

 

 

 

The festival  was just art.  There was a lot of good food to be sampled and there was music.  I don't know the name of the band, but they were quite talented.  The music continue all day with different genres throughout the event. 

 

 

Festival activities were taking place downtown in historic Sulphur so I drifting that way to take in more.  First though I stopped at the reflection garden the Chickasaw nation has built.  The focal point of this garden is flowing water and of course that always catches the attention of an angler.

 





 

 

I continued to drift westward into downtown and then there it was... like a shining beacon in a dry desert.  It was a watering hole.

 

 

There went the rest of the day.  



 





Hola Carp

Charlie has returned from Mexico and wasted no time at all in saying hello to his favored carp.  Charlie tells me the Mirror actually chased down a red-tail Creek Critter.

 

My trips to the carp creek have been few and far between primarily due to the business of life and a struggling creek.  I did make a trip two days ago and found a carp that drew a fancy for the Aftermath.

 

 

Although things are quite bad as far as the creek, I hold great excitement for the next ten days where we stand a chance of receiving rain each day.  Then, Charlie and I can get after the carp on a more serious note.

 





All Important Observation

Quite often those that make the decision to pursue the art of fly fishing for carp are overflowing with excitement and exuberance.  Far too often this enthusiasm leads to not taking enough time studying the water before them.  First of all it should be suggested that the fly angler for carp should always give his or her eyes enough time to adjust to the water and surroundings.  Carp have a mystical way of blending in with the bottom of their watery abode and there are times they seem to appear like specters. 

Not all of us are eagle-eyed and thus it is even more important to take our time to observe and evaluate the water.  It is also important to not make a rash decision on fishing the first carp we see.  Too many times has an angler cast a gift to the first carp encountered and in doing so blown the whole community that was basically at the feet of the angler. 

In North Carolina guide Ken Hardwick with Davidson River Outfitters is as eagle-eyed as anyone that I've encountered while fishing.  Ken's ability could be God-given or he has simply trained himself over the years and knows what to look for within the riffles, seams, or in the pockets. 

Admittedly I have had to force myself to slow down, take time, carefully peruse every square foot of water before placing the fly in the drink.  In doing so, more carp have come to hand.

 

 

 

 

Sharing The Thrill

I came to know Dusty Gilles several years ago through fly fishing at Blue River.  We both love the trout season at Blue, but once that ends we seek out other species.  About a month ago Dusty made a trek to the North Canadian to see if the sand bass had begin to run.  Instead of finding sand bass he encountered carp at a confluence of smaller creek with the Canadian. 

Dusty wrote me afterwards telling how he threw what he had at the carp but they weren't buying it and asked for a little information on fly fishing for these grand ones.  Writing Dusty back I told him how Charlie and I approach the carp, what their nature tends to be, and how to present a fly to this ever-so-smart fish.  Then, I went to the tying bench and churned him some flies and got them in the mail.

Dusty took the flies to the river with him yesterday and sent the results shortly thereafter.  He wrote that the first carp he caught took him into his backing and that was something he'd never experienced before. 

I would suggest that Dusty is the one that got hooked.

 

 

 

 

In Love With Pretty Tail

I loved pretty tail as a young man.  I love pretty tail now as an older man.  I own this fascination for pretty tail.  My philosophy, when it comes to tail, is that it would be insulting to not look at pretty tail and therefore I have always tried to do my best and look as much as I can. 

On the creek yesterday I was facing a quite stained waterway due to the wonderful rains we received recently.  As I stared into the coffee I saw what looked like a small orange flag waving in the water.  Almost as soon as it appeared it also disappeared from sight.  However, there were bubbles and with a thirty foot roll cast I place the Aftermath at the head of the bubbles.  A count of five and slow lift of the rod tip, tension felt, hook-set made, and I got my pretty tail.

 

 

Long live pretty tail. 

 

Carp Campaign - On My Knees

One of our favorite pastures to pursue carp is called the Honey Hole.  There are three sections at this stretch of creek - the main body, the upper shallows, and the lower shallows.  Normally, carp can be found on each outing either in the main pool or the upper shallows.  But yesterday that wasn't the case.  It was completely overcast and seeing anything at all in the water was next to impossible. 

Looking downstream a 100 feet or better I could detect a most faint wake riffling upstream and that told me that the carp were active.  Making my way to the lower shallows there indeed were carp and the problem that faced me was approaching them since they were at the tail end of the shallows.  Standing on the bank ten feet above them I made my way down inch by inch.  At the bottom of the bank I got on my knees and knee-walked out ever so slowly to a small sandbar.

About 15 feet above me were two young carp eating to their hearts content.  A flip cast put the fly, a black Aftermath, beyond the carp I had targeted.  A lift of the rod tip brought the fly in proximity of the carp, a single strip called the carp to action.  His tail wagged, he moved forward, and then the gill plates flared.  The hook set was good and as he sliced through the water like a launched torpedo I watch the rest of the carp community suddenly explode.  The explosions were like cluster bombs going off underneath the surface.  It was a most wonderful thing to watch. 

 

 

 

 

After The Aftermath

The carp are still favoring the Aftermath pattern primarily the one with the chartreuse body.  However, one with a black cactus chenille body was born and this pattern has taken the last three or four carp.  In wondering what is so enticing about this fly - the color of the body, the worm tail, or the partridge feather, I would now say it almost has to be the worm tail. 

Great dividends will come to the carp by fly angler if they have ownership of three things - keen eyesight, the patience of a heron, and steely sharp stealth.  Too many times have anglers not given their eyes time to adjust and find themselves walking past carp because just like the muckraker in Pilgrims Progress they are fixated on the wrong goal.  Crisp eyesight and stealth go hand in hand and the patience we must learn enhances both these fine qualities in an angler. 

The carp creek that Charlie and I fancy is in a bad way.  Currently the creek is choked with algae on it's bottom and tree tassels on the top.  Hardly a cast can be made without drowning the fly in some kind of sticky entanglement, which requires the fly to be clean with each attempt. 

However, carp to the hand have been managed.  But, it's been hard going my friends.