Jealousy Counter

If you look to the right and scroll down just a little you'll see the Jealousy Counter, by which I keep track of the number of times I've gone fishing this year.  It was meant as a bit of a snarky joke, implying that while you were stuck in your cubicle in Detroit or Chicago, Austin or Seattle (who am I kidding? No one in Seattle reads this.) I'm out fishing.  Ha- suckers!

As you can see I got out 96 times this year.  This doesn't mean they were all-day trips, only that I got out and engaged meaningfully in the pursuit of fish at some point during the day.  This also doesn't mean that I blew off work to fish- some of my jobs have me crossing multiple trout streams to get to work, and most of my jobs are on lakes.  As a matter of fact, one night, a friend came and picked me up on the job with his boat and we fished until dark- not a bad way to end the day.  My fly fishing gear is always in my truck, and it's never a problem to stop off and fish for an hour on the way home.  I'll eat dinner when I get there, whenever that is.

My real reason for the counter was because I was actually curious as to how much I fished.  I knew I fished a lot, and maybe I was better off not knowing.  I'll never be the type who blocks out an evening for a favorite TV show- if conditions are right and the fish are biting, I'm out there.  I'm pretty sure I fished close to 150 days in 2010.  This year I was busier with work and had other constraints.  As it is, I fished nearly 100 days, and had a blast doing it.  What were the highlights?

just one great fish in a great year

Well, let's see-

1. Catching my first bass on a fly- a big smallmouth no less.
2. Catching my first carp on the fly and being introduced to Michigan's expansive flats fishing.  Just ask Kirk Deeter, it's really that good.
3. Catching my biggest brook trout (16"+ in MI and 20+ in Nipigon) and biggest brown trout (28").
4. One word- Nipigon.
5. Fishing with Sanders on the Poudre.  He's a class act and great guide.
6. Fishing the Betsie river for salmon in September.  The run was insane this year.

Phil with just one of the tanks we caught this fall

I don't know what 2012 will bring (I'm not holding my breath on that Mayan Calendar thing), but I can't wait to see.

My Favorite (Other's) Blog Posts of 2011

I was good enough to pat myself on the back the other day and share my 5 favorite blog posts I’ve written this year.  I don’t see a problem with that, but it begged the question “What were my favorite posts by my favorite bloggers?"  Being new to blogging, it took me a while to figure out that most of those nice people leaving comments on my blog were actually other bloggers.  Hey what did I know?  It has taken me awhile to get around, and there’s so many great blogs out there I can’t possibly keep up with every post by every blog, but I do my best.

I understand that when you write a list like this you run the risk of insulting some.  Without the time to run back through every blog  post by everyone that I try vainly to keep up with,  I’m sure I’ve left out some great posts.  Still, these are some noteworthy posts by some noteworthy bloggers and I hope you enjoy them as much as I did.

the real brains behind T!

6. Wednesday Nibbles- Selbbin is Nibbles Backwards- Mike Agneta, Troutrageous!.  Ok, this one is going to seem a little gratuitous as it’s the one in which FR received Blog Love (a term which we all learned- and stole- from Master T!) but face it, long before you scroll down and see my banner at the bottom, Mike has you laughing, as he does most every Wednesday.  If I had to pick a favorite blog of the year (which I won’t) it’s probably Troutrageous!.  Where else can you go to get such consistently good entertainment, someone who can lightheartedly address issues and still make you think, a Tenkara guy who doesn’t act like it’s a religion?  And don’t forget Lilly.

5. November Rock- Ivan Orsic, Yukon Goes Fishing.  I’ve been following YGF for some time now and head over there whenever I need my video fix.  Ivan has gotten a lot of play lately by various outlets including Midcurrent and Orvis’ Friday Film Festival for Silver and Gold, his foot-stomping mash-up which I have to admit was a very strong contender, but you’ve all seen it already.  I really love his “Rock” series though, and his use of color and beat together in this piece was very original.

Sanders when the camera IS around

4.  Without a Camera- Sanders, Up the Poudre.  I love all of Sanders writing, but I think this post encapsulates his style- understated, slightly self-effacing, creative, beautifully written.

3.  The Dancing Cast- Erin Block, Mysteries Internal.  Erin Block is such a prodigious talent, that it was difficult to know where to start.  She is perhaps the most creative and profound outdoor writer to come along in a long time.  I’ve said before, that I only visit her site when I have time to think and digest what she’s saying- I miss a lot of posts.  I don’t know if this one is her best; it’s certainly a personal favorite of mine, and out of all the fantastic writing she’s done, I had to pick something.

2.  The Best Trout Fishing Trip Ever- Mike Sepelak, Mike’s Gone Fishin’…Again.  This was Mike’s entry into the Trout Unlimited writing contest, which he won handily, and it landed him in Montana with some other distinguished blog writers to do some fishing and check out what TU has been up to out there.  This piece flows, reminding you of every trip you’ve ever made or yet want to make.

And drumroll please…….

1    

      1.  Fly Fishing Needs Dirty Harry- Kirk Werner, Unaccomplished Angler.

Yeah, so Kirk got a lot of play out of this one, but why shouldn’t he?  It was and is one of the funniest posts I’ve ever read.  It’s not just that the idea was original, the writing is hilarious, and so are his graphics.  After this one Rebecca Garlock proclaimed Kirk was “toast” and thus sending him into temporary retirement.  It didn't last long, and Kirk continues to entertain, but this was certainly his Magnum Opus.

My Best, Wild, Place

This is in response to the latest OBN writing prompt, and in conjunction with Trout Unlimited and Field and Stream.  Make sure you check out their Best Wild Places.  Here goes....

Michigan doesn't have a lot of wilderness.  Mind you, we have a lot of wild lands, big woods, big rivers, Great Lakes.  There's lots of state land, well used.

This is my best wild place- the South Branch of the Ontanogan River, from Ewen to Lake Victoria dam.  It is not Yellowstone.  It is not even Isle Royale (also part of MI).  It is working class Michigan, all the way.


Seven friends, seven boats, twenty-seven miles of river. The original plan was to do 55 miles of river; this was obviated by the rocks sans water staring back at us at the original put in. We eliminated half of the trip before finding enough water to float at the town of Ewen. This turned out to be just fine. The town of Ewen has a beautiful launch and parking area at the M28 bridge. From there on we encountered no bridges, only two cottages and precious few signs of human activity.
We drove up and stayed Thursday night at the takeout at Victoria dam. There's a rustic campground down a little trail that is difficult to see as you enter the dam area. It has a nice view of the reservoir, which is completely undeveloped. Bald eagles hold sway over its waters. It is surrounded by high ridges, some with rocky bald tops.

I rousted everyone out at six am Friday and we left before 8, but the aforementioned river conditions and the subsequent search put us on the river at 11:30. The first few miles are flatwater and slow current, the river a rich red color from the local clay. The only hazards are submerged logs. While getting ready to launch, a large smallmouth bass chased a minnow right up to my feet. This is gonna be good, I thought. Yet I fished off and on for the first few miles and didn't catch a thing.

The younger guys kept up a steady pace, disappearing while the three senior members opted to float and fish. After a couple hours of fruitless fishing we gave up and decided to catch up. We paddled for at least another hour before finding them just downstream of the first rapid on a small sandbar. They were ashore checking the bank out for camping. We shot the location down as too constricted and lumpy and pushed on. We eliminated another half dozen locations over the next hour. Steep banks 6' to 20' high and thick brush made getting out difficult to impossible. Finally at about 5:30 we spotted a tongue of sand coming down a low bank and hauled out. Unlike the other rocky areas we had checked, this was pure sand with ferns growing on it and lots of flat areas. Everyone hauled out.

We set to pitching tents, securing gear, filtering water etc. Two guys built a fire and Keith figured out how to build two cook tables out of a slab of charred white pine stump that worked very well. After dinner we wandered down to the river to find Keith catching smallmouth bass. I got my rig out and proceeded to catch or break off eight bass in eight casts. We passed rods and lures around and everyone caught fish. As darkness closed in we sat around the fire, told stories and shared libations. We turned in shortly, and I fell asleep immediately, leaving the rain fly off my tent so as to get a glimpse of the stars.

day one camp as seen from the "cook table"

I woke a couple hours later to the sensation of something hitting me in the face. At first I thought it was insects, but as I came to I realized it was water. My first thought was to roll over and ignore it, but thankfully, my head cleared. As I got out of the tent to put my rain fly on it started to rain in earnest. Rod was also out, adjusting the tarp over his hammock. By the time I finished I was shivering uncontrollably. Much to my surprise, I was instantly warm as soon as I got back in my bag. I slept like a baby to the patter of rain and murmur of the rapids.

I woke early the next morning, ready to get at the bass. I cast around for awhile with absolutely no results, so I finished my coffee, lit the fire and made breakfast. Gradually everyone rolled out, and after a brief safety talk we left at 11.

We camped about halfway down the river and from here on out it is mostly class II rapids which increase in intensity as you go. An hour after launching we encountered a large island where the river split in three braids. The middle channel was the best, and just downstream where it all rejoins was the most beautiful sand beach and swimming hole you could wish for. We decided to stop for lunch and a swim.

the swimming hole

The rest of the day was spent running rapids of increasing difficulty, floating past banks several hundred feet high, immense white pines twisted by time, numerous bald eagles and ducks. I managed to find a few good holes that held numerous 10-12" smallmouth. In one, as I attempted to take down my rod to catch up with the others, a 12" bass grabbed my lure right next to the boat - I had to fight him on the line with my rod collapsed. I released him and immediately another bass grabbed my lure and snapped it off.

After several rapids approaching class III, and miles of maneuvering through boulder-bed rapids, evening was setting in - I felt tired, Rod looked tired and everyone wanted out of their boats. We went through the same process of trying to make different sites work. We now came to an unnamed waterfall, which is really just a class II-III gradual bedrock slide that totals perhaps 6 feet of drop. Except for a couple of boulders to negotiate it was really quite easy. From there we picked our way through some class III boulder bed rapids and down a short slide into a pool with a large grassy sandbar Island on the left and maple covered low bank to the right. We pulled out on the sand bar to investigate and then spotted an opening on the opposite bank. As we pulled up to it we could see a small metal tripod with a fire grate hanging from it. It was an old campsite complete with fire ring, a small wooden table, an aluminum boat and lots of flat ground. There was no sign that anyone had been there in a couple of years.

eagles are abundant on this river

We again made camp, but Alex and Keith opted to camp across river on the sandbar island. The evening went much the same, with small bass biting one after the other below the rapids. I had thought we were in the backwater of the reservoir, but as I fished my way around the bend from camp, the river disappeared from sight and the sound of roaring water filled the valley. On either side, low rock cliffs lined the river. I caught one very nice bass at the head of the rapid, then headed back to camp to tell the others.

We roasted marshmallows, and then, as Keith and Alex headed to their island we tried to hurl flaming marshmallows their way to punish the deserters. This didn't work at all as a) it was too far and b) the marshmallows wouldn't stay lit. So we built a fire on a long flat, slightly cupped piece of driftwood and tried to float it their way. This didn't work either, so Braxton hopped into his yak and floated it over to them. This did not have the desired effect, but nothing's perfect. I later discovered that under the grass where I pitched my tent the ground was rocky and uneven, and spent a near sleepless night shifting around.

Sunday morning we launched a little earlier, eager to get back to the trucks and start the seven hour drive home. Despite the dramatic appearance of the rapids below camp, it was still just a matter of picking the right line and bobbing through the waves. I chose the wrong line and got stuck on the sandstone bedrock and had to walk my boat 100' downstream to relaunch, but the final rapid that dumps you into the lake made it worthwhile. We paddled the final 1.5 mile across Victoria reservoir in a stiff headwind. I felt bad for Alex, who having broken his paddle the first day, epoxied it back together, broke the epoxy on Saturday and now was fighting the wind with half a paddle. We left him behind. It makes a man out of you. Right? Right!!?

And so I conclude with a note of sadness. I don't know where to go from here. The South Branch of the Ontonagon River is probably the wildest river of its size in Michigan. In 27 miles there were no roads, no bridges, only two cottages, a deer blind and two cables across the river. There were no beer cans, no human tracks, no empty bait containers. We were the only ones we knew of on the entire stretch of river, barring one fisherman at the second cottage.   No canoe liveries serve it ( I called around- they won't rent to you if you're floating this stretch).  It is nestled in the remote north west corner of Michigan's Upper Peninsula.  In three days of floating, we saw only one other person near the only cabin.  It doesn't have trout.  It's mountains are not grand.  It doesn't have press.  What it has is smallmouth and solitude and wildlife, in abundance.  I love it because it is unsung, because it's NOT a national park.  It's not even a state park.  It is just a beautiful wild place, overlooked by the masses because it has no services, no campgrounds, for being no-name, non-descript and ordinary.  I feel fairly confident in sharing this place with you- you're not going to go.  It's too far, and you'll drive past many of Michigan's more famous destinations to get there.  Which for me makes it perfect.

The Year in Review- My Favorite Posts

Yes, 2011 is nearly over and it's that time of year when every news outlet is looking back and inundating you with the stories that were the biggest, worst, most shocking or you name it of the year.  Lindsay Lohan is featured in 23% of them.  I promise you that she doesn't appear in any of my posts.  Yet.  I started this blog this year, and it has been a roller coaster ride.  I've posted 146 times, spent a lot of hours typing, editing, fishing, shooting pics, tying flies, editing pics, and brainstorming ideas.  It has been a lot of fun, and a lot of work.  It has been a learning experience.  I was often surprised by what readers responded to.  I'm going to share a list of my favorite posts.  They may not have been your favorite posts, but oh well.

Ice!- Still one of my favorites, as it captures an event and season that even the locals miss out on.  No one read it, maybe it's the title.

The Ravens I Know- I love ravens, and this piece seemed to just flow.  To me, they are an integral part of the outdoor experience.

On Letting Go- my take on catch and release, and intelligent harvest.  This one caused me some trouble.

Floating Away- this article was very popular and got shared on several major websites.  The need for escape and adventure, and the pursuit of steelhead.

Fantasia in Minor Pain- a backcountry hike gone wrong.  Big fish, personal injury, and mountain lions.

Looking back through my posts has been instructive- I posted a lot of filler and crap, when what people respond to is good writing, good photography and good information.  I'll try to improve, focus more on my writing, and make this blog a better place for anglophiles.  Wait, that might be the wrong term.  Still, I'll do my best.

Outdoor Tip- Warm Feet in Waders

Ok, this is a quick tip.  Winter is upon us, and for some, the fishing isn't over.  We're always looking for excuses to get on the water, but deep snow and cold can be limiting factors.  Extremities, especially our feet, are hard to keep warm, especially when we're going to be standing in freezing cold water.  I've seen neoprene socks on sale by various manufacturers but they seem to be fairly expensive, and instead what I've done is cut the neoprene booties off an old pair of waders and wear them inside my current booties.  It helps that the booties on my current waders are a little over-sized, and your wading boots definitely need to be about two sizes too big.  I purposely buy them that large to accommodate winter fishing.  I wear one layer of wool socks, then the cut-off neoprene booties and then slip on my waders.  So far my feet have stayed toasty warm even when the ice is piling up in my guides.  If you have an old leaky pair of stocking foot waders give this a try before you spend money on something fancy or worse, stay home.  If you don't have an old pair, I'm willing to bet one of your fly fishing buds has a pair laying around- we frequently keep them as an emergency spare (why? if they leak?) or as patch material for our current waders.

Try this tip out- you'll be surprised at how well it works.  JT/FR

Oh yeah, those finger-less wool gloves that sell for about five bucks are your other best friend out there.  Warm when wet, cheap, and they still allow you to use your finger tips.  OK, I'm done.

Frieze

The dead eye of a salmon stares up at me, as if to say "I've served my purpose here, what's yours?"

The answer is, I don't know.  I've fished this spot a lot lately, as it's some of the only ice-free water nearby, but the water is so low and clear as to nearly rule out the possibility of it holding steelhead, or at least where they would be reachable.

The sky and landscape are monotone and monolithic, carved from a single piece of gray flowing stone.  Even the cedars have muted their green, embarrassed to show their color when everything else is so dull. The wind is calm and even the river flows in muted tones, as if sound could break this sculpture.

I don't know why I've come back again, what my purpose is.  Maybe it's just to cast.  It's certainly not for the exercise.  The fishing has been slow.  I wade in, aiming for the only piece of dark water around.  After a few casts my line zips sideways and I'm tight into a small rainbow.  The water temperature must be perfect, as this little fish actually puts up a struggle against the 8 weight I'm using for steelhead.   The fish races back and forth, jumping repeatedly before finally coming to me.  I admire it, snapping a couple photos before releasing it.  Grow up, buddy.

I stop at the next dark pool, and on the first cast my line again zips tight, there's another merry go-round, and this time a small brown is landed, carefully recorded digitally and sent on his way.  There's a cold spot on my left leg- I really hope my waders aren't leaking.  That could make for a long winter.  I'm surprised by movement and a greeting from the bank.  My vehicle is the only one here, but another angler hails me with the usual "Any luck?".
As I answer, my line comes tight with a serious weight, and a long silver flash.  A few head shakes and it's off, and like any dedicated fisherman, my new companion groans audibly from the bank.  On my next cast, the line comes tight again, and this time we're off to the races.

It's not a huge fish, perhaps 22 inches, but very hot, porpoising and tail walking all over the place.  It zips downstream, and then disaster-  the line I had stripped in my hand wraps around the tools on my lanyard.  The fish continues it's frantic fight as I frantically fight to untangle what is a rather complex knot.  After some tense seconds I work it out and play the fish again.  As I grab the leader the fish- a very fat and energetic young steelhead- starts to roll, and out pops the hook.  Oh well, I was going to release it anyways.  My friend of the moment shoots the breeze for a couple of minutes before wandering on.

I fish for another hour, landing one more small fish, but the light is failing and I'm having a tough time reading my line.  The landscape, sky and river are starting to merge back together.  It will take the sunrise to sculpt them again.

Interview- Artist Becca Schlaff

I first ran into Becca at the Midwest Fly Fishing Expo this last March.  I was instantly drawn to her artwork- her use of color and abstraction beautifully capture the essence of fish. We talked briefly then, but I finally got the chance to sit down and interview her recently.  I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed conducting it.

FR- Becca- why fish?

Becca- A few years ago a friend who is a fly fisherman asked me to do a painting.  He asked me to do a big canvas of a brown trout for his fly shop Nomad Anglers, and everything developed for me as an artist from there. It clicked for me- the colors and textures of the fish and water. I grew up in the country and had previously done animal portraits and fashion design.  The colors grab me in a certain way, combined with the movement of the water, the colors of the fish, the light and reflections.

FR- How would you describe your art, what is your style?  

Becca- I use an expressionistic approach.  Expressionists are the ones that clicked with me, using the paint itself to speak, creating a visual language of texture, layers and transparency with my own emotional reaction.  Abstract expressionism enters in, the play of chance versus control, almost the opposite of my original work.  You see my own commentary emerge from the paint.  The coolest thing for me is when a line or the colors match a picture of a fish I’ve seen, or times I've been on the water, seeing a fish through the water and shifting light and reflections.

FR- So becoming a fisherman yourself has added to or informed your art? 

Becca- Definitely- I’m still learning so much about it.  Everyone tells me to take it one step at a time.   Art and fly fishing are very similar- it seems like the more you let yourself go, the better it is.  The amazing thing about fly fishing and art is that it is enough to just relax and realize I’m in a beautiful place. 

FR- Could you make a go of this without fishermen?  In other words, does fish art translate across the artistic and art consuming world?  

Becca- It does, it definitely crosses both worlds.  Some are anglers who like art, others are collectors who appreciate my work.  Some (non-fishermen) don’t recognize what it is at first, but when I tell them it’s fish the seem to appreciate it all the more.   I can always tell who the fly fishermen are though- they walk right in and love it, they go crazy.

FR-What do you do to escape?  Is it something outdoors, or does it involve Netflix?

Becca- A little of both.  My best escape is going outdoors.  On a walk with my dog, or a longer hike, or something on the water.  I just cancelled my cable, but I do Netflix too.

FR- Which came first, fishing or painting fish? 

Becca- Fish painting, but fly fishing was the next step.  I grew up boating and kayaking, and love spending time on the water.  I went to Montana and had a great time fishing there this summer.  Fly fishing, for me, has brought my art back full-circle.  I'm so happy to experience what I'm trying to depict in my work.

FR- Do you ever fear being type-cast as an artist?

Becca- I don’t.  I don’t know if that’s good or bad.  I haven’t really thought about it.

FR- Do you ever need a break from painting fish?

Becca- I do occasional landscapes.  I just did an abstract of someone casting.  My memory of a friend who could really cast, I loved the long loops and the lighting.

FR- You’ve been featured by Midcurrent, The Fiberglass Manifesto, and American Angler- is your art changing as you get wider exposure, and if so how?

Becca- I don’t think so.  It’s really cool to get the exposure.  It makes me more committed to what I’m doing.  Things change over time.  I seem to be doing more abstracts.  I’ve only been doing just fish for about a year, so I feel that I’m still a newbie, still developing.

this painting is based, in part, on a photo by yours truly

FR- I see you went fly fishing in Montana this year- if budget weren’t an issue, what would be your ultimate fly fishing destination?

Becca- Alaska, Belize, Italy, Chile- Facebook and its network of anglers has exposed me to a lot of places I didn’t know about.

FR- What’s your favorite fish?

Becca- It’s hard- brown trout?  You probably want me to say brook trout. (I laugh- no)

FR- You seem to capture a lot of motion in your paintings- how do you accomplish that?

Becca- I think that’s from the way I handle and apply the paint.  Layering and dripping, I move the canvas around a lot, they go through a lot of 360 degree rotations.  Sometimes I remove paint, or use a knife to scrape or drag it.  There's a lot of techniques, but it's about capturing a feeling, my reaction to what I'm seeing.

FR- Are fish a metaphor for something bigger in your life?  

Becca- It affects my soul- the water and colors of the fish and how I grew up in the country.  I think it's all tied together.

FR- Commissions aside, what determines that a fish picture gets turned into a painting- do you see each fish as a blank canvas, or does it take some back-story to inspire you?

Becca- It depends.  Sometimes I get a photo with a story, but I do think each fish is a blank canvas.  I typically have a million pictures out for each painting.  I might use three different pictures of brown trout with pictures of light and water to trigger that emotional response  in myself in that expressionist process I talked about.

FR- My personal approach to art is like or dislike, without a whole lot of thought to the process.  What do you say to art Neanderthals like myself-  what wisdom can you share in art appreciation?

Becca- I'm always surprised- fishermen always walk into my booth at art shows, say they don't know anything about art and then come up with these amazing insights, things I haven't seen in my paintings.  I think fly fishing, being an art, makes fly fishermen more open to art.

FR- What’s on your iPod?

Becca- I have a horrible mix of stuff.  Alternative, classic rock, but I have my Lady Gaga and Pitbull.  I play more upbeat high energy stuff when working on a canvas.  I listen to Pandora a lot.

FR- When’s the last time you took a knife to a canvas?

Becca- (Laugh’s) Never! I think I ought to sometimes, but never.

FR- What artists and art forms inspire you?

Becca- My number one is Gerhard Richter, he’s more of a contemporary style artist I learned about in school.  One of my professors turned me on to him.  It’s where my love of the colors and textures of paint came from.

FR- I’ve seen photos of your latest brown trout abstract, which is definitely more abstract than others I’ve seen.  Is this a direction you’re moving in?

Becca- I think it’s the direction I’ve been in.  My early work is similar.  It’s a fine line, whether I use one shot for more realism, or use several to create connections.  I think I just have degrees of abstraction, though those canvasses may be some of the most abstract I’ve done.

I really want to thank to Becca for participating.  I love her artwork and so will you.  Make sure you check out her artwork on her website http://becca-schlaff.com/blog/, or join her on Facebook.  Her studio is in East Lansing, Michigan.

You can find Becca at the following art shows, among others.

January 7, 2012 at Indiana on the Fly

Jan 21,22 at the Islamorada Fine Art Expo

February 11,12 in Bonita Springs, Florida

February 18,19 in Sarasota.

March 10 Midwest Fly Fishing Expo in Warren, Michigan.

Becca wants to fish when she's in Florida in February- help a gal out, give her some tips, share guide contact info, or better still if you live there, take her fishing.