Aaaaauuuugghhhh!!!!! Yawn, stretch, scratch, repeat. Monday morning again- it must be time for coffee. I'm going with the Sanders mug today, and some Komodo Dragon blend. It's a cold morning out there and that warm mug feels good in my hands. Here, let me take a sip... mmmm that's good.
Ok, well, not a lot to report. I only fished once this last week, a very enjoyable outing on Thursday morning with Koz (our outgoing local TU chapter president) , throwing streamers for browns. It was cold and windy but somehow it was still very pleasant. We couldn't turn a fish to save our lives, but I guess you get days like that. The wind was driving hard out of the north, which I think had put the fish down. I'm going to try to get out a few times this week, being that it's a holiday week and I don't have a lot of work scheduled.
As you know, the One Bug Is Fake- 30 Days of Fishing contest is over but we haven't announced a winner yet, so look for that post tomorrow. Long drum roll. Did Brandon succeed, or did equipment breakage, car troubles, a hostage crisis and a dead cat prevent him from completing his quest? Find out tomorrow.
As far as what else to expect from me here? With several pieces of writing in the works for various outlets it has been difficult to generate much here at FR. I do have about 30 different drafts in various stages, so maybe I can finish one and post it. I haven't fished enough, or successfully enough, to post much. I was too busy processing venison and finishing squaring my affairs here before the snow flies and winter gets serious. This coming week looks fairly pleasant for November. Hopefully I can find some fish and have something to share.
I tell you what- I'll sit down and make myself write at least a short creative piece and post it before the end of the week. It will do me some good.
Well, I do have a little bit of work to do today, so I'm going to get to it. Have a great week.
Four guys from Denmark embark to the Alaska wilderness, seeking adventure. It's not surprising they find it. What is surprising is the quarry they seek, the landscape they find themselves in, and the tale they tell.
And so I waded into the movie " A Backyard in Nowhere". To paraphrase some opening dialogue, I didn't get what I bargained for either.
I love pike fishing. There, I said it. Pike are big, violent predators. The take is one of the most dramatic in fly fishing. You're throwing big flashy flies, to a big toothy fish that eats anything from minnows to baby ducks. You get to throw a big rod, learn your double haul, and strip line like a mad person. Then when they hit, it's game on. When you fish for big pike long enough, you're going to get injured, period. They are tough, unpredictable fish with loads of big teeth and a lot of fast-twitch muscle. I have the scars, and have clubbed them to death in the back of a boat before they broke any more equipment.
"A Backyard in Nowhere" delivers this fantasy in spades. I've always wanted to fish the Yukon drainage in Alaska for pike and sheefish. It is not the classic image of the Alaskan landscape. It is flat lowland marsh and river drainage, complete with loads of mud, cut-off sloughs, and none of that mountain majesty and glaciers you've come to expect from the 49th state. What this area lacks in beauty it makes up for in pike- big ones. Fish that measure 40 to 50 inches and can weigh over 30 pounds. Mind you, these guys find adventure and come to terms with the landscape, but it is the fish that define this trip.
Our protagonists head to the Innoko river in search of monster pike, not far from Holy Cross, a native village in the Yukon drainage . While their initial efforts yield them some decent fish, it's after they consult with the locals that they find the giant fish. These guys go out and camp in the Alaskan outback for a month, dodging bears, and bugs, and outfitters who appear to be bent on protecting their turf. What it yields, is video gold- giant pike smashing flies; twenty pound fish that jump and thrash, and slash at hands with mouths full of 700 teeth. This movie has some of the most compelling footage in fly fishing that I've seen. It also has some of the saddest.
Where this movie misses is in its portrayal of the Native American locals. Perhaps it was honest, but I don't think their portrayal of alcohol abuse and illegal drug use are the type of message that is welcome at large. I can cut these guys some slack for heading into the Alaskan wilderness on an adventure and letting their hair down. What is harder to swallow is their depiction of Native American dissipation. The locals in this film are drinking in virtually every scene, or high or both. They drive their boats while drinking, hunt and use firearms while drinking, hell, they even butcher a moose while drinking. These guys, while being talented film makers, missed the nuances of the social landscape, and their admiration of the locals becomes patronizing. Likewise, their portrayal of their run in with the local outfitter Midnight Sun is somewhat muddled. While it's clear there was some sort of dispute, it is unclear the exact nature of it, or why they left their camp on public lands so quickly. They almost cause a serious escalation of the conflict by involving the locals before better sense prevails, and they simply pull stakes and leave. I would be interested to know if they filed a complaint with law enforcement.
I wish I could give this film two thumbs up. It is very beautifully shot and edited, the music sound track is exceptional, the fishing is fantastic, and they even find beauty in a less than picturesque part of Alaska. I love big pike, and the action is dramatic and explosive. This film makes me want to go. What was harder to reconcile was their portrayal of the local Natives they claim to love and admire.
I give it one thumb up for cinematography, soundtrack and action.
I give it one thumb down for its treatment of the locals. I'm afraid their admiration did more harm than good.
Opening day of the firearm deer season is tomorrow here in Michigan. It has always started on November 15 here for as long as anyone can remember. While everyone else is making their final preparations, I'll be wrapping my season up. So far I've hunted a total of two and a half hours. My hunting time has been severely limited this year by work, and moving and other factors, so I took my bow out Friday and shot the first doe that came along. I've been holding out for bigger bucks the last two years, but I also had 8-10 days to hunt and had the luxury of passing up smaller bucks and does. I have more than the usual amount of open space in my freezer, and thought it better to fill it rather than worry about aesthetics. Personally, I'm not a big fan of rifle hunting. The best part of the rut is over, when the bucks are wandering everywhere all day long, and instead I always end up with some restless hunter wandering through where I'm hunting, or else the daylight reveals some guy set up 150 yards upwind of me. I'm going to do something I've never done tomorrow, which is to do the little bit of work I have scheduled, then go around to buck poles, shoot some pictures and talk to hunters.
death in the big woods
I didn't get out fishing this last week, but I did get my fly tying station at least partially set up and tied a handful of streamers. I swung into Jay's Sporting Goods in Gaylord Thursday and got to meet and talk to Alex Cerveniak of alexkain.com. He has written for Midcurrent and other such publications, and does free lance photography in addition to his day job. It was nice to finally meet him and I hope we hit the river somewhere soon. I'm planning on hitting a couple of streams later this week, once the initial rush of the deer season winds down and there's less bullets in the air.
As far as this blog goes- don't look for an OBIF post Thursday, as Brandon will be wrapping up his fishing then. It looks like he's going to make it. I figured he would. We'll probably do the final post Sunday, along with a drawing of the winner then. I have at least three reviews and two interviews to get done, so I'll try to get at least one of those up, and I'll even try to let my mind wander and put a short story of some sort together.
Well, I've got some butchering left to do, so I'm going to get back at it. Have a great week.
In what may be his best installment yet, Brandon Robinson shares the mind crushing horror that is-
I thought inbreds were dumb.
You hear the term inbreeding, and it conjures up images of big-headed
little kids, with snot-crusted bubble-blowing noses, bare feet and lice ridden
heads. Their intelligence level rates
somewhere between; a plate of chicken that’s been in the back of the fridge
since the Clinton administration, and an amoeba. This specialty koi/carp/goldfish, while
probably inbred, defies the stereotype.
It is one of the smartest fish I have ever fished for. Ever. It’s smart enough to have me doubting my
fishing ability entirely. That isn’t
saying much, but it is still frustrating. This fish isn’t like any other
either. It plays mind games. Jedi-freaking Spock mind games… (Somewhere, a fanboy just committed suicide because
of that comparison. Moment of silence
begins now… … … …). Seriously though, he
will swim right up to my fly. At the
point that I think he is going to take it, he will turn to FACE me and then swim off
with an indignant swish of his majestic flowing tail. I hate him.
I hate him so much.
I might as well call this the “week of second guessing”
too. That is what I have done all
week. I have called myself every synonym
of stupid I can think of. I have lost my
cast, found it, second guessed it, and lost it again. I have cursed myself for choosing a
BANANA-YELLOW fly rod for a mission where stealth, is critical. I have a plan, though; giving up is not an
option. If I don’t get smiled upon by
Neptune himself and catch this water stallion before this contest is over, I am
going to take a sick day. I will buy a
ghille suit, smear camo paint all over my face and fly rod, and go full-on Long
Trang on that piscadevil. I will
bring that fish to hand. Okay, it won’t
be a sick day, but it will happen. Mark. My.
Words.
Last week, I made mention of my catch-streak. Totally called it, by the way. The day that post went out, I caught a big
ol’ polecat. That’s a skunk to the
uninitiated. It’s happened twice since
the self-fulfilling prophecy. I blame
the koi, and his little (newly discovered) little brother. It’s their fault. I have: chummed with bread, thrown every carp
fly, changed leaders, tied on a steelhead leader with an extra four feet of tippet, bought (and tried)
more carp flies, stepped up the size of
the tippet, scaled the size back down, lost the first set of flies in every
conceivable manner, and considered
quitting fly fishing altogether. I mean,
I am constantly surprised at the tensile strength of the tiniest freaking tip
of the tiniest freaking weed.
Enough about that fish, you want to hear how the rest of the
quest is going, right? The weather is
turning colder just a bit earlier than it did last year, but I should be able
to hold the waders off till after this contest is over. I skunked out on trout, and I almost missed a
day. Saturday, I went to help a
friend. I got a late start to begin
with, and was late getting to his house.
After doing the repair he needed, I went to the Orvis store to amputate
my wallet. That’s where I almost lost
the contest. I got sidetracked at the
selection of flies, and I was contemplating buying something with leather elbow
patches, when I realized I was almost out of daylight. I had more than an hour, but only if I could
find somewhere close. Add another
half-a-point to the species list (11 for those playing the home game) for my
Copper-Nose Bluegill that was caught behind the newly opened Orvis store.
This is crunch time.
One week left, it is do-or-die.
My fridge is empty, I have been getting almost all my meals from a drive
through. My fly tying desk looks like I
tried to real-life play angry birds, then angry squirrels, then angry bunnies,
then angry Hobby Lobby customers. I
would also like to apologize for this post.
It’s distracting, scatter-brained, and a little played out. Actually, I take that back, it’s a perfect
representation. This quest has taken its
toll, and work has been uber-frustrating this week.
That said… Brandy
Smith, Levi Green, Magnolia Sexton, Ken Hacker, James Schmidt, Lisa Brubaker, Shelley
Montgomery, Mark Hardin, LCpl Manning, John Michael Gavit, Cass Winslow, Kirk
Ryan, and the rest of the Corps (Old and
New); Happy 236th Birthday, Marines! Tomorrow is Veterans Day, remember to
actively seek out and thank a
veteran. It is more than just a random
pre-Black Friday day off, take a second and show some respect to the people
that chose to either serve for you, or chose to serve with you. Veterans, thank you for your service. I hope you are taking full advantage of the
only Federal Holiday you actually earned.
I will be chasing carp on the Pedernales River while humming a Charlie
Robison tune. See you downstream!
Aaaaaaaaagghhhhhcckckc-thewww!!!! Yawn, stretch, scratch, repeat. Hey, you try and come up with a new wake up sound each week. I'm going to pass over my staling Sumatra beans for the Morning Joe, and I'm still with the DeYoung mug. Go click his link here and buy a set already, I like Derek.
You know, when you work right through the weekend, Monday doesn't mean to me what it does to you. I'll be working today as well, finishing a job, then my weekend starts tomorrow, as I'll take to the woods with my bow and attempt to shoot a buck. Normally I've started by now, but with record rainfall in October it has taken extra long for me to finish my outdoor work. I have business to care for in Ann Arbor Thursday, which will take me away, so I guess I have about six days to get the job done. I have been roughly 300% successful over the last 11 years (I've shot about 35 deer), so I'm not worried about whether I'll get the chance to shoot a deer. Seeing how I've gotten my two best bucks two years in a row, the question this year, is at what point do I give in and shoot? I'd like a big buck this year, but at some point you need some meat in the freezer, and all those little bucks wandering the woods get awfully tempting after awhile. I passed up 8 bucks last year before taking my best ever.
I got out once last week to toss streamers for steelhead and browns, but only had one small fish, 12-14" chase. The wading was scary, and the rain incessant. I brought my camera, but under those conditions wasn't about to get it out, so I have no pictures to share. I also lost a bunch of big streamers, including my best Stacked Blonde, and two of my good Cougars, so I definitely need to hit the vise this week and get some stuff punched out.
What to expect here at FR this week? Well, there will, of course, be Brandon Robinson's update to his 30 Days of Fishing. If you haven't entered to win a One Bug is Fake T-shirt AND a large Morrell fly box, why not? Enter using the form in the top right sidebar. The rules are here. Other than that, it's going to be a hectic week for me, but I'll see what I can get up. I do have two exciting interviews planned for this week, which I'll post as soon as possible, and I have a couple more planned as well. I also have several reviews due out soon- I'm reviewing a book that I'm enjoying thoroughly, and I have an upcoming video review that I can't wait to get to. Brandon's quest has me thinking of pursuing a quest of my own- 30 Days of Fly Tying, in which I'd give away the fruit of said days at the bench in a contest in the end. I'm still toying with that idea. I'm lazier than Brandon, and my flies reflect that. I think that's why they catch fish. I can say now, that the majority of fish I catch are on flies I tie, so there's something to be said for that.
Well, I'll keep this one short and Swedish. Have a great week.
It lies there on your calendar, like a dare you don't want to take. November is a clear demarcation in the year. Spring was refreshing, Summer glorious, and even September and October had their share of pleasantness, but November throws down the gauntlet- from here on out, if you're going to fish, you're going to suffer. November can be your Rubicon, or your Waterloo.
Don't let those die-hard jerks fool you. Sure there's lots of space age materials and clothing available these days. Sure the equipment and waders, thermals, fleece and polymers are so much better today. But let's face the facts- the cold season has begun, and here in Trout Country, the weather will typically be gloomy, rainy, cold, or snowy. You may get some 50 degree days, but I wouldn't count on it, and before the month is over we'll have a skift of snow, if not a foot already. At some point if you're out there, you'll have to expose some skin to cold air and icy water. At some point, if you're going to fish in November, you'll have rain runneling off you or wet snow piling up on your shoulders.
So what are you going to do- fish, or hibernate?
November's distraction
November continues a trend here in Michigan, in that many anglers are also hunters, and so they set down their rods and pick up their shooting irons. November 15 kicks off what may be our grandest outdoor tradition, as about 750,000 hunters embark on opening day of deer season, an orange clad army taking to the woods in hopes of taming the local deer infestation. Me, I'm a bowhunter, though I usually try to take my rifle out and shoot coyotes. November 15 is the one day of the year I will never fish here. Never mind the risk of taking a stray bullet, you're likely to piss off some hunter who practically had to bribe his boss to get the day off so he could hunt down by the river for that giant swamp buck he saw cross the road in August, and now you're here, lanyard rattling and whistling Dixie, scaring his buck into the next county, all because you wanted to catch a couple 8 inch trout. Yes the man is armed, and there's always the chance he was drinkin'. No sir, it just don't make sense. If I was you, I'd say November 15 is the one day to stay home if you don't hunt. (You can insert your favorite country twang into those last two sentences.)
Here's your opportunities in November. There's steelhead, steelhead, and St. Steelhead. Sure, go fish for browns if you like. Yeah, I know, there's chrome coho's to be had late. Or better still, kype jawed, red-flanked male coho, pissed off that you had the gall to swing a chartruese and white fly past their face. But you're back to talking moldy fish here essentially. If you catch a silver fish, I say keep it- it will be bright orange inside, and smoke up nicely, and the DNR will plant more. But if what you want is a big angry silver-plated, whale-tailed fighting machine, then swing something to Madame Chrome, because November is the month of fall steel, and aside from the more famous Great Lakes tributaries, you're likely to have the river to yourself.
So here we are, at the brink of the cold season. As Julius Caesar put it "alea iacta est (the die has been cast)". It's time to wade in.
Brandon is back with his week two report, as the challenge gets even more interesting. Remember, we're giving away an OBIF T-shirt and a large Morrell fly box, so be sure and enter the contest in the top right side-bar. Contest rules are here.
Call me, “Ishmael.”
Actually, don’t. In
this version, I have become Capt. Ahab. The ‘white whale’ of my obsession is a very
large and mostly white koi. Then again, it might be a gold fish, or an
ornamental koi; I am honestly not certain.
What is certain is that it is lord and master of its domain; a dingy
little pond adjacent to the ‘Acid Pond’.
We will call this pond the ‘Hobo Junction’ pond (mainly due to the three
or four hobo living rooms I found in its circumference). The pond is stomach shaped and fairly small;
it is chock-full of playful medium sized bass.
But they pale in comparison to this fish, however. The desire to catch this fish developed so
fiercely that I actually considering ditching the contest! The crisis was due to the self-imposed
inability to fish the same pond two days in a row. This fish must
be caught, and I was willing to ditch the whole endeavor to it to hand.
not being koi
Cooler heads prevailed however, talking me down from the
ledge. I would continue, as it would
likely increase my chances to hook him.
It was also pointed out that I can cheat a little in my methods, since
it is a fish-nomaly; providing of course it’s done on the Eagle Claw. I have fished for it two days at a time, less
the weekend, since I discovered the aquatic monster. Ōkina
Sakana (Japanese for Big Fish) has pulled me from deep slumbers into cold
sweats, simply by the knowledge it exists. I have been supremely unsuccessful at fishing
for him. It is proving to be the cagiest
fish I have ever pursued, and I am not convinced witchcraft isn’t
involved. This fish is as equally
frustrating as, “Not tonight honey, I have a headache…”
Hours have been spent, both fishing and evaluating its
behavior, trying to find a chink in the armor.
Over thinking it, I know… I tend
to do that frequently. Just ask any ex
of mine, they will emphatically support the evaluation. It’s in my nature I suppose, yet this
situation calls for disproportionate contemplation. It knows
when I show up and swims over to me. As
soon as I begin casting, it leaves. Add
that approach to the fact that it’s the hobo-junction pond; one can only assume
that someone feeds it. It muds like a regular carp but shies away from any fly,
or (more likely) any presentation I can achieve surrounded by an entire
landscape scientifically engineered for perpetual fly-lossage. This obsession has essentially, consumed week
two.
Moving past the koi, I did catch a common carp, which you
can read about here. You
can also add Longnosed Gar to the catch-list as well, pulling that off on
Saturday. These bring the total caught
species to nine fish. After the carp, I
landed a little red-breasted sunfish; that’s ten, baby! Let’s not point out that I have fished skunk
free for thirteen days in a row,
scratch that crap, that’s a personal best!
Assuming this (bone-dry) cold front doesn’t screw things up for me, or
the fact that I just called attention to my streak, the fishing should only
improve now that fall is actually here.
Unrelated, I have run out of fluorocarbon leaders and the local
storefront doesn’t sell them (read: I’m nail-knotting my tippet into a leader). That variable should affect the Vegas odds slightly. Lastly, I think I caught a Spotted Bass. I say think because I have never heard of a pond-dwelling
Guadalupe Bass, but it looked similar. I
snapped a picture, but it was a case of extreme camera fail and I didn’t want
to kill the little guy waiting on it to quit acting stupid. So, I am going to call it 10.5 species.
Now, can I brag a little bit? Texasriverbum.com
made a video! Why is that cool? Well, because I am in it! Okay, that part
really isn’t that cool. The only
thing I can take credit for is my part in it, all the editing and such was done
by le Bum himself. I will own up to a
couple of things though, before you watch it…
1)My backcast is too fast. Blame the heavy streamers I fish for that bad
habit, I didn’t even know I was doing it.
2)I screwed the name of this wonderful website up
so badly, he couldn’t use it. I am
asking for Rosetta Stone Latin for Christmas.
3)I was nervous.
Cameras with people behind them make me a little nervous freaking
basket case.
There, another week down.
I have a mission within the mission, so the pressure is on a little
bit. If I do catch the Ōkina Sakana, I
will add five hand-tied *bass flies to the prize pot. To recap we have: magic
koi, no leader, koi/angler cage-fight, ten species, white whales, extra prize, magic
koi, and cool video... Are ye not
entertained?!?
Good. See you downstream!
*Disclaimer: I kind of
suck at tying flies. They do catch fish
though, I promise.
