After 4 days of driving with a daily stop to fish, my son Jacob and I finally arrived in Utah on Thursday afternoon. We traveled nearly 2500 miles, ate at Burger King more times than I would have liked (I let my son choose our meals along the way and he opted for a plain double cheeseburger at least once a day) but we were able to fish four beautiful streams along the way:
Dry Run Creek in Arkansas
Bear Creek in Colorado
Diamond Fork watershed in Utah
Lower Provo River in Utah
I'll save the details of those fishing excursions for another blog entry and/or podcast, but for now we're glad to be in Utah. The water levels are higher than normal but the Provo river is certainly fishing well. I've been told that there is even the occasional hot topwater action.
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Tomorrow's the big day!
Well, tomorrow has finally arrived ;)
Ok, that didn't sound quite right but the point is this: I've been anticipating this year's "vacation" (in quotes because I have to bring my work with me) to Utah for quite some time and tomorrow my son and I are finally heading out. We're leaving from NC and it will take us several days to get there. My wife and daughters will fly out and meet us there at the end of the week.
We're driving rather than flying so that I can haul all of my fly-fishing related shtuff across the country and, trust me, it's a lot of stuff. Plus since I'll have to work at least a few hours every day I'm also bringing three computers, two monitors, a printer and a multi-sheet scanner. The back of my minivan is pretty much exactly what you'd expect to find if an Orvis delivery truck and a Best Buy delivery truck collided head on into one another on the freeway. Especially if you threw in a few bags of Cheetos and a cooler full of Diet Coke.
Ok, that didn't sound quite right but the point is this: I've been anticipating this year's "vacation" (in quotes because I have to bring my work with me) to Utah for quite some time and tomorrow my son and I are finally heading out. We're leaving from NC and it will take us several days to get there. My wife and daughters will fly out and meet us there at the end of the week.
We're driving rather than flying so that I can haul all of my fly-fishing related shtuff across the country and, trust me, it's a lot of stuff. Plus since I'll have to work at least a few hours every day I'm also bringing three computers, two monitors, a printer and a multi-sheet scanner. The back of my minivan is pretty much exactly what you'd expect to find if an Orvis delivery truck and a Best Buy delivery truck collided head on into one another on the freeway. Especially if you threw in a few bags of Cheetos and a cooler full of Diet Coke.
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Patience is NOT a virtue
I recently had a conversation with a bait fisherman who commented to me that fly fishing must require a lot of patience. I simply smiled and nodded but what I wanted to say was "What?! You mean compared to parking your lazy arse in a lawn chair staring idly at the water while your fishing pole rests on a Y-shaped stick? Now *that's* patience, pal!" Seriously, fly fishing is the perfect sport for impatient people: you're moving constantly and even when you're not catching anything you're always working.
In fact, my advice to novice fly fishermen everywhere is: be less patient! If you're fishing your way up a small mountain stream and come to a nice pool, make a few drag-free drifts and then MOVE ON TO THE NEXT POOL. Fish don't get more and more attracted to your fly the more times they see it. You'll catch more fish if you take your best shot and move on to the next pool.
Unless you're fishing in crowded conditions or where wading is dangerous, I'm convinced this principal holds true even on bigger streams and tailwaters that hold lots of fish. Sure, if the stream is 20-feet it will take you longer to cover the water but there's no point sending your fly down the same riffle thirty times if you're not catching fish.
In my experience, the Green River is an excellent example. During the summer there are fish that hold along the edges of the river waiting for terrestrials to get blown into the water. If you walk cautiously along the bank, you can see these fish before they see you. If you can cast far enough and with accuracy, you have a pretty good chance of hooking these fish. My approach is to give each of these fish a few casts and then move on up to the next fish. Yeah, I might walk have to walk 50 or 100 yards until I see the next fish holding along the river's edge but who cares? There are miles and miles of stream to work with.
You might argue that since the Green River holds as many as 7000-10000 trout per mile by some estimates I'm just wasting time and energy covering so much distance between casts. Maybe so, but when I come upon one of those bank-feeders I have a pretty darn good idea that it's looking for a meal and I can sight-cast to it with a whopping dry fly. Call me crazy, but that's a whole lot more fun than watching a strike indicator come to a stop somewhere above a size 22 nymph hidden deep under the water.
In fact, my advice to novice fly fishermen everywhere is: be less patient! If you're fishing your way up a small mountain stream and come to a nice pool, make a few drag-free drifts and then MOVE ON TO THE NEXT POOL. Fish don't get more and more attracted to your fly the more times they see it. You'll catch more fish if you take your best shot and move on to the next pool.
Unless you're fishing in crowded conditions or where wading is dangerous, I'm convinced this principal holds true even on bigger streams and tailwaters that hold lots of fish. Sure, if the stream is 20-feet it will take you longer to cover the water but there's no point sending your fly down the same riffle thirty times if you're not catching fish.
In my experience, the Green River is an excellent example. During the summer there are fish that hold along the edges of the river waiting for terrestrials to get blown into the water. If you walk cautiously along the bank, you can see these fish before they see you. If you can cast far enough and with accuracy, you have a pretty good chance of hooking these fish. My approach is to give each of these fish a few casts and then move on up to the next fish. Yeah, I might walk have to walk 50 or 100 yards until I see the next fish holding along the river's edge but who cares? There are miles and miles of stream to work with.
You might argue that since the Green River holds as many as 7000-10000 trout per mile by some estimates I'm just wasting time and energy covering so much distance between casts. Maybe so, but when I come upon one of those bank-feeders I have a pretty darn good idea that it's looking for a meal and I can sight-cast to it with a whopping dry fly. Call me crazy, but that's a whole lot more fun than watching a strike indicator come to a stop somewhere above a size 22 nymph hidden deep under the water.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Gearing up...
I've already mentioned before that I'm stockpiling the flies I think we'll need this summer. I'm also stockpiling gear and since I'm driving rather than flying there's really no need to try to conserve space. In addition to flies here's what I have so far, most of which is stuff I already owned but some of which is new for this trip:
- At least 5 fly rods ranging from a delicate 6'8" 3wt bamboo rod to a 9' 5wt workhorse. If I had a 6wt rod, I'd bring it just in case we fished streamers but based on the water we're planning to fish I probably wouldn't end up using it anyway. And that's partly why I've never bought one.
- Four fly reels, three of which have an extra spool. It's much more likely that I'll break a rod than melt down a reel, but I might as well bring most of the reels I own even if they won't all see use.
- Two pairs of breathable waders and two pairs of felt-sole boots. I kinda wish I had some boots with spikes but I don't and haven't yet been able to justify the cost. I take a wader full of water every now and again but at least so far it's never been something I can blame on the boots.
- Two pairs of neoprene socks and two pairs of wet wading pants. I'll be honest: wet wading is a lot of fun when it's hot outside. I suspect that most of my days will be spent wading wet.
- A five-piece wading staff and belt. I'm not sure how often I'll need to use a wading staff (if at all) but I figured I should bring the one I own in case the outrageously high water levels have not subsided by August. Crossing the Green River on foot is arguably a bit easier with a staff but most of the time when I bring a staff, it just hangs there by my side waiting for the chance to reach out and get tangled up in my fly line.
- A whole bunch of 7.5' 5wt leaders and a few other leaders in different lengths and weights. The 7.5' 5wt is pretty much my go-to leader. If I need to go smaller and longer I can add 6x and 7x tippet. If I need to get heavier for streamers, I can clip back the end of the leader and tie on a 4x tippet.
- Flourocarbon tippet in sizes 4x through 7x. Yeah, the flouro is expensive but from everything I've read this is one of those new-fangled technologies that actually makes a difference when it comes to catching fish.
- Moldable tungsten putty and small tin split shot. This is my first year using moldable putty (rolled as needed around a small tin split shot). The idea is that you can change the amount of weight you have on the line quickly and easily. I hope it works for me but my observation thus far is that the putty tends to leave a residue on my fingers that doesn't wash off in water. This is still a work in progress.
- Various strike indicators from footballs to "Don Kings" to moldable biostrike stuff to those foam stick on indicators that fall off as soon as you move them up or down the leader. I haven't yet decided on a favorite yet, but it's not for lack of trying. For whatever reason I have problems with slippage no matter which indicator I use so I'm still on the hunt for the perfect solution. If you have a suggestion (the more specific the better), feel free to leave a comment.
- A waterproof, shockproof camera. I'm always so worried about getting my camera wet that I end up missing out on photo opportunities because the camera is never out when I need it. I finally broke down and bought a camera that can handle the bangs and spills, so for this trip I'm going to keep the camera on a zinger so that it's always at the ready.
- A big net with a magnetic vest release. I almost never use a net but since we'll be fishing tailwaters that hold big trout and require light tippets, I'm going to carry one on those days. To make it as easy as possible to get the net out when a fish is on, I'm going to use one of those nifty rare-earth magnets that will hold the net on my back when it's not needed but allow me to just reach back and yank when I'm ready to land the fish.
- A back pack, a chest pack, a fanny pack, and a lanyard. I'm still undecided as to which of these I'll use on any given day but I'll say this: for whatever reason, I find a regular fly fishing vest to be extremely uncomfortable. My favorite is the goofy looking fanny pack but it can't quite hold enough stuff and certainly cannot carry the food, water, and sunscreen I'll need on the day we hike down into Cheeseman Canyon for the entire day. On days when we'll only spend a couple of hours each on two or three different small streams, I'll probably just wear a lanyard and put a small box of flies in my pocket. The idea as a fly fisherman is to have about 15 different things all within easy uninhibited reach and I would be embarrassed to admit how much time I've spent obsessing about how to position everything on my body to be able to carry the most easily accessible gear with the least amount of discomfort.
- Four pairs of polarized sunglasses. I actually already own this many polarized sunglasses so I'm bringing them all. I have a history of losing sunglasses so I buy the least expensive ones I would dare use and I always buy two pair at a time. I have one pair that I prefer for driving and one pair that I prefer for fishing, but in a pinch either pair will do for either task. Since I have two sets of each each, that makes four. I guess that means I haven't lost a pair in a while. My sheer dorkitude amazes me.
- A hiker GPS. We're going to be fishing lots of streams I've never fished before, so I know then only by topo maps and trail guides. We'll probably get lost. So the point of a GPS isn't so much to lay down a waypoint at every honey hole as it is to help us get back to the car at the end of the day.
- A car GPS. I'm completely incapable of reading a road map and we'll be doing lots of driving so this is probably the single most essential piece of equipment for me other than maybe a fly rod. You would not believe how incapable I am of finding my way around places I have been to let alone places I've never been.
I'm sure I'm planning to bring some things that I've forgotten to mention and chances are good I will forget to bring some of the things I had planned to bring. (That, friends, is called Chiasmus and is a subtle yet profound indicator of my inspirational writing.) If worst comes to worst I'll break down and create myself a little checklist. Or maybe I'll have my wife make a checklist for me. She's good at that.
- At least 5 fly rods ranging from a delicate 6'8" 3wt bamboo rod to a 9' 5wt workhorse. If I had a 6wt rod, I'd bring it just in case we fished streamers but based on the water we're planning to fish I probably wouldn't end up using it anyway. And that's partly why I've never bought one.
- Four fly reels, three of which have an extra spool. It's much more likely that I'll break a rod than melt down a reel, but I might as well bring most of the reels I own even if they won't all see use.
- Two pairs of breathable waders and two pairs of felt-sole boots. I kinda wish I had some boots with spikes but I don't and haven't yet been able to justify the cost. I take a wader full of water every now and again but at least so far it's never been something I can blame on the boots.
- Two pairs of neoprene socks and two pairs of wet wading pants. I'll be honest: wet wading is a lot of fun when it's hot outside. I suspect that most of my days will be spent wading wet.
- A five-piece wading staff and belt. I'm not sure how often I'll need to use a wading staff (if at all) but I figured I should bring the one I own in case the outrageously high water levels have not subsided by August. Crossing the Green River on foot is arguably a bit easier with a staff but most of the time when I bring a staff, it just hangs there by my side waiting for the chance to reach out and get tangled up in my fly line.
- A whole bunch of 7.5' 5wt leaders and a few other leaders in different lengths and weights. The 7.5' 5wt is pretty much my go-to leader. If I need to go smaller and longer I can add 6x and 7x tippet. If I need to get heavier for streamers, I can clip back the end of the leader and tie on a 4x tippet.
- Flourocarbon tippet in sizes 4x through 7x. Yeah, the flouro is expensive but from everything I've read this is one of those new-fangled technologies that actually makes a difference when it comes to catching fish.
- Moldable tungsten putty and small tin split shot. This is my first year using moldable putty (rolled as needed around a small tin split shot). The idea is that you can change the amount of weight you have on the line quickly and easily. I hope it works for me but my observation thus far is that the putty tends to leave a residue on my fingers that doesn't wash off in water. This is still a work in progress.
- Various strike indicators from footballs to "Don Kings" to moldable biostrike stuff to those foam stick on indicators that fall off as soon as you move them up or down the leader. I haven't yet decided on a favorite yet, but it's not for lack of trying. For whatever reason I have problems with slippage no matter which indicator I use so I'm still on the hunt for the perfect solution. If you have a suggestion (the more specific the better), feel free to leave a comment.
- A waterproof, shockproof camera. I'm always so worried about getting my camera wet that I end up missing out on photo opportunities because the camera is never out when I need it. I finally broke down and bought a camera that can handle the bangs and spills, so for this trip I'm going to keep the camera on a zinger so that it's always at the ready.
- A big net with a magnetic vest release. I almost never use a net but since we'll be fishing tailwaters that hold big trout and require light tippets, I'm going to carry one on those days. To make it as easy as possible to get the net out when a fish is on, I'm going to use one of those nifty rare-earth magnets that will hold the net on my back when it's not needed but allow me to just reach back and yank when I'm ready to land the fish.
- A back pack, a chest pack, a fanny pack, and a lanyard. I'm still undecided as to which of these I'll use on any given day but I'll say this: for whatever reason, I find a regular fly fishing vest to be extremely uncomfortable. My favorite is the goofy looking fanny pack but it can't quite hold enough stuff and certainly cannot carry the food, water, and sunscreen I'll need on the day we hike down into Cheeseman Canyon for the entire day. On days when we'll only spend a couple of hours each on two or three different small streams, I'll probably just wear a lanyard and put a small box of flies in my pocket. The idea as a fly fisherman is to have about 15 different things all within easy uninhibited reach and I would be embarrassed to admit how much time I've spent obsessing about how to position everything on my body to be able to carry the most easily accessible gear with the least amount of discomfort.
- Four pairs of polarized sunglasses. I actually already own this many polarized sunglasses so I'm bringing them all. I have a history of losing sunglasses so I buy the least expensive ones I would dare use and I always buy two pair at a time. I have one pair that I prefer for driving and one pair that I prefer for fishing, but in a pinch either pair will do for either task. Since I have two sets of each each, that makes four. I guess that means I haven't lost a pair in a while. My sheer dorkitude amazes me.
- A hiker GPS. We're going to be fishing lots of streams I've never fished before, so I know then only by topo maps and trail guides. We'll probably get lost. So the point of a GPS isn't so much to lay down a waypoint at every honey hole as it is to help us get back to the car at the end of the day.
- A car GPS. I'm completely incapable of reading a road map and we'll be doing lots of driving so this is probably the single most essential piece of equipment for me other than maybe a fly rod. You would not believe how incapable I am of finding my way around places I have been to let alone places I've never been.
I'm sure I'm planning to bring some things that I've forgotten to mention and chances are good I will forget to bring some of the things I had planned to bring. (That, friends, is called Chiasmus and is a subtle yet profound indicator of my inspirational writing.) If worst comes to worst I'll break down and create myself a little checklist. Or maybe I'll have my wife make a checklist for me. She's good at that.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
The Lifetime Warranty
Pretty much every high-end graphite fly rod comes with a no-fault lifetime warranty these days. If you accidentally roll the tip of your fly rod up in a car window (been there, done that) they'll fix or replace it for you. If you slip while walking down a hill to get to the stream and launch your rod into a boulder (been there, done that), they'll fix that too. Bill broke the tip on this Sage rod on Wednesday during our fishing trip to Virginia and had the rod back from Sage this morning, less than a week later! That's pretty amazing.
I mention this because this is the second time Bill has broken a rod in the last several months. He broke a rod clean in half while trying to free the umpteenth snag on a particularly frustrating morning of nymph fishing. It was entirely his fault. I should know because as I stood there watching him flail away in anger trying to free his nymph I kept saying "he's gonna break that rod, he's gonna break that rod" and sure enough he did.
The only problem was, he wasn't fishing a high end graphite rod with a lifetime no-fault warranty. He was fishing a delicate hand-crafted bamboo rod made by, um, me that I named after my only son shortly after he was born some eight-and-a-half years ago. So the immediate question we both had simultaneously within seconds of hearing the sickening snap was "I wonder if the builder of that rod is going to fix it?" Truth be told, it has been so long since I built a bamboo rod that I've pretty much forgotten how and my tools are either packed away deep within one of the 117 unlabeled boxes in the garage or are lost forever. Or both. And since Bill's rod broke right below the nickel-silver ferrule it was going to require a new one and those bad boys are expensive.
So for the last several months I've been making Bill sweat it out, refusing to commit as to whether or not I was ever going to get around to fixing his rod. I figure the punishment fits the crime: if he's gonna disrespect a bamboo fly rod in such an overtly crass manner, he shouldn't be allowed to fish one for at least six months. But since our big FRAA2008 adventure is coming up and because our travel schedules are such that I'm not going to see Bill between now and the end of July when he arrives at the SLC airport to kickoff our fishing trip, I finally broke down and fixed the rod.
It's not too shabby of a repair job, if I do say so myself, but the varnish on the new wraps isn't nearly as good as I used to be able to do. The ferrules fit better than ever, though, and I hope that the next time he breaks that rod it's on a huge fish. Otherwise, I think his warranty period will have run out.
I mention this because this is the second time Bill has broken a rod in the last several months. He broke a rod clean in half while trying to free the umpteenth snag on a particularly frustrating morning of nymph fishing. It was entirely his fault. I should know because as I stood there watching him flail away in anger trying to free his nymph I kept saying "he's gonna break that rod, he's gonna break that rod" and sure enough he did.
The only problem was, he wasn't fishing a high end graphite rod with a lifetime no-fault warranty. He was fishing a delicate hand-crafted bamboo rod made by, um, me that I named after my only son shortly after he was born some eight-and-a-half years ago. So the immediate question we both had simultaneously within seconds of hearing the sickening snap was "I wonder if the builder of that rod is going to fix it?" Truth be told, it has been so long since I built a bamboo rod that I've pretty much forgotten how and my tools are either packed away deep within one of the 117 unlabeled boxes in the garage or are lost forever. Or both. And since Bill's rod broke right below the nickel-silver ferrule it was going to require a new one and those bad boys are expensive.
So for the last several months I've been making Bill sweat it out, refusing to commit as to whether or not I was ever going to get around to fixing his rod. I figure the punishment fits the crime: if he's gonna disrespect a bamboo fly rod in such an overtly crass manner, he shouldn't be allowed to fish one for at least six months. But since our big FRAA2008 adventure is coming up and because our travel schedules are such that I'm not going to see Bill between now and the end of July when he arrives at the SLC airport to kickoff our fishing trip, I finally broke down and fixed the rod.
It's not too shabby of a repair job, if I do say so myself, but the varnish on the new wraps isn't nearly as good as I used to be able to do. The ferrules fit better than ever, though, and I hope that the next time he breaks that rod it's on a huge fish. Otherwise, I think his warranty period will have run out.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
We need more gnarly flies
Bill's friend Clyde was kind enough to tie up some big hairy nymph prototypes for us to experiment with prior to our upcoming trip, so I took Dani with me over to the bass pond to try them out. Since we would be fishing in still water for bass rather than stream fishing for trout, I kept telling myself that the mission was primarily to get a feel for how easy it would be to cast these weighted fluffy nymphs with a 4wt rod and a 5x leader, but since we saw quite a few bass schooling up in search parties hunting the very edges of the pond we decided to go ahead and try to catch them.
What I found was that the fish spooked very easily, but if we stayed low to the ground and placed the fly right on the nose of the fish (literally no more than 3-5 inches from the rocks at the edge of the water) and then stripped just fast enough to pulsate the soft hackles on the nymphs the fish went crazy. Sight fishing, even if it's not for trout, is an absolute blast.
I was happy that I was able to make long, accurate casts with my 9'5wt rod but I was even more happy that Dani was able to catch and land 4 or 5 fish all by herself. She doesn't cast with incredible distance yet but she's figured out how to move the nymph, set the hook, and land fish. In fact, she managed to catch and land one of the larger bass in the pond (2+ pounds).
Anyway, I ended up losing a couple of Clyde's prototypes so I'm going to have to see if he'll tie up some more for us. The gnarlier the better.
What I found was that the fish spooked very easily, but if we stayed low to the ground and placed the fly right on the nose of the fish (literally no more than 3-5 inches from the rocks at the edge of the water) and then stripped just fast enough to pulsate the soft hackles on the nymphs the fish went crazy. Sight fishing, even if it's not for trout, is an absolute blast.
I was happy that I was able to make long, accurate casts with my 9'5wt rod but I was even more happy that Dani was able to catch and land 4 or 5 fish all by herself. She doesn't cast with incredible distance yet but she's figured out how to move the nymph, set the hook, and land fish. In fact, she managed to catch and land one of the larger bass in the pond (2+ pounds).
Anyway, I ended up losing a couple of Clyde's prototypes so I'm going to have to see if he'll tie up some more for us. The gnarlier the better.
Monday, June 9, 2008
The FRAA2008 Fly Boxes
I've been researching, purchasing, and organizing the flies Bill and I are going to need during our 15-day fishing trip. Obviously we won't know exactly what we'll need until we actually get to each stream--but our agressive travel/fishing schedule doesn't really allow for spending very much time at fly shops. Plus, we're going to burn through enough flies that I'd rather buy in bulk and save some money if possible.
Here's what I've got so far:
All told, it's nearly 800 flies. I probably have about 200 more that don't fit in the boxes (most of which are extra quantities of flies already represented in the photos). I never understood why some fly fishermen would get so devastated by losing a fly box. But that was before I had 500 flies in a single box.
Here's what I've got so far:
All told, it's nearly 800 flies. I probably have about 200 more that don't fit in the boxes (most of which are extra quantities of flies already represented in the photos). I never understood why some fly fishermen would get so devastated by losing a fly box. But that was before I had 500 flies in a single box.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Check out the podcast on iTunes
We finally managed to get the podcast feed uploaded to iTunes. Their backlog is clearly longer than it used to be. Anyway, we recorded podcast episode 02 a couple of days ago. Enjoy!
For future podcasts, we've been trying to make contact with a couple of local experts near the Green River, the Provo River, etc. We'll see how that goes.
For future podcasts, we've been trying to make contact with a couple of local experts near the Green River, the Provo River, etc. We'll see how that goes.
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Let the Podcast begin!
Bill and I recorded our first podcast episode on Thursday night. Not the best podcast ever, but we had some fun and introduced our plans for the epic two-week fly fishing road trip coming up in August.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
20-20 Vision
Fishing with a dry fly is a whole lot more fun than with a nymph. Let's face it: seeing the nose of the fish come up out of the water to slurp a floating bug is waaayy more exciting than watching your strike indicator stop moving (which means you've snagged the bottom a lot more often than it means you've got a fish). Plus, casting an unweighted dry fly is much more enjoyable as well. My motto during those tough days on the stream where nothing seems to be working is: "If I'm not catching fish I might as well be casting a dry fly." Yes, there are some times when I'd rather make graceful (well, graceful for me) 40-foot casts with a dry fly and catch no fish than lob a tandem nymph rig loaded down with 5 sinkers and catch half-a-dozen.
But some of the Western tailwaters are so rich in underwater bugs that unless there's a mad hatch going on, using a dry fly is essentially tilting at windmills so nymphs are going to be my reluctant choice. And if I'm going to use a nymph rig I might as well be good at it--and so that's one of my goals for FRAA2008: espouse the nymph. Uh, when it can't be avoided that is.
On second thought, there is one aspect of nymph fishing that seems cool to me. It's the idea of catching a 20-inch fish on a size 20 nymph. I've caught a few 20-inch fish on size 18 nymphs but I'm not sure that I've ever actually logged a 20-20. As an aside, I'm really not sure who the genius was who came up with the sizing system where a size 20 fly would be smaller than a size 16 fly which would be smaller than a size 12, but I'd like to meet that guy and help him do those simple tasks he cannot do by himself like tie his shoes and hold a fork. But I digress.
Tailwaters like the South Platte and the San Juan are famous for large trout that subsist on a steady diet of ridiculously small bugs and since we're going to be fishing both of those streams, I'm determined to gain a modicum of proficiency with tiny nymphs or die trying. And hey, who knows, I might catch enough lunkers that after it's all said and done I'll decide that I love fishing with nymphs after all. Call it 20-20 hindsight.
But some of the Western tailwaters are so rich in underwater bugs that unless there's a mad hatch going on, using a dry fly is essentially tilting at windmills so nymphs are going to be my reluctant choice. And if I'm going to use a nymph rig I might as well be good at it--and so that's one of my goals for FRAA2008: espouse the nymph. Uh, when it can't be avoided that is.
On second thought, there is one aspect of nymph fishing that seems cool to me. It's the idea of catching a 20-inch fish on a size 20 nymph. I've caught a few 20-inch fish on size 18 nymphs but I'm not sure that I've ever actually logged a 20-20. As an aside, I'm really not sure who the genius was who came up with the sizing system where a size 20 fly would be smaller than a size 16 fly which would be smaller than a size 12, but I'd like to meet that guy and help him do those simple tasks he cannot do by himself like tie his shoes and hold a fork. But I digress.
Tailwaters like the South Platte and the San Juan are famous for large trout that subsist on a steady diet of ridiculously small bugs and since we're going to be fishing both of those streams, I'm determined to gain a modicum of proficiency with tiny nymphs or die trying. And hey, who knows, I might catch enough lunkers that after it's all said and done I'll decide that I love fishing with nymphs after all. Call it 20-20 hindsight.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Grass is Always Greener
In late 1999 or early 2000 (not long after I started fly fishing) I read several articles about guys who are still building hand-made fly rods out of bamboo. I found it absolutely fascinating. I'm a technology geek by nature so the idea that someone would intentionally hold onto a rod-building technique that has long since been surpassed by lighter, sturdier, and less expensive methods seemed totally crazy. But the more I read about it, the more fun it sounded. I don't believe those who claim that "grass" (i.e. bamboo) rods are better than modern graphite rods, but I've already admitted that fly fishing by its very nature imposes arbitrary restrictions on catching fish, so what's wrong with using bamboo instead of fiberglass, graphite, or carbon fibre?
So despite my complete lack of basic woodworking skills, I decided to give it a shot. I had the Internet at my disposal, of course, so I was able to find out how to source all of the zany materials required and then build or buy the various hand tools necessary to split, heat, shape, sand, wrap, and varnish the bamboo. In all, I built about 12 rods and gave all but one of them away to friends and fellow fly fishermen. It was a total blast.
My favorite part about building fly rods was giving them away. The rods I made weren't worth selling, frankly, but it was a lot of fun sharing them with other people. Other than Bill (who broke his bamboo rod in half a few months ago trying to free a snag while I stood by watching), I pretty much lost contact with the other ten guys who ended up with one of the rods. It's been seven or eight years since I built my last rod, and I'll admit to occasionally wondering how those rods held up and how much fishing they've seen. Yesterday I was looking at some digital family photos and came across these pictures I took of a few of the rods I built.
So despite my complete lack of basic woodworking skills, I decided to give it a shot. I had the Internet at my disposal, of course, so I was able to find out how to source all of the zany materials required and then build or buy the various hand tools necessary to split, heat, shape, sand, wrap, and varnish the bamboo. In all, I built about 12 rods and gave all but one of them away to friends and fellow fly fishermen. It was a total blast.
My favorite part about building fly rods was giving them away. The rods I made weren't worth selling, frankly, but it was a lot of fun sharing them with other people. Other than Bill (who broke his bamboo rod in half a few months ago trying to free a snag while I stood by watching), I pretty much lost contact with the other ten guys who ended up with one of the rods. It's been seven or eight years since I built my last rod, and I'll admit to occasionally wondering how those rods held up and how much fishing they've seen. Yesterday I was looking at some digital family photos and came across these pictures I took of a few of the rods I built.
Over the years, I've also enjoyed fishing with the one bamboo rod I decided to keep. A family friend was kind enough to take me to the Green River several years back and I thought it would be a hoot to catch a 20-inch brown trout on a 6'8" 3wt bamboo rod so I brought it with me. After that, I gradually found myself using that rod less and less and eventually stopped fishing with it altogether until about a month ago.
Anyway, most of the water Bill and I are going to fish on this year's road trip is big enough that a nine foot graphie rod has a clear advantage over a dainty seven foot grass rod. That said, I'm hoping at least one of the streams we'll fish (probably on our way from Provo to New Mexico) is small enough that I can fish the bamboo rod.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Baby Got Back-Country
After we fish the Provo River, Bill and I are going to drive from Utah County (about half-an-hour south of Salt Lake City) down to the Navajo Dam in New Mexico where we'll fish the San Juan river. Along the way, we'll pass within spitting distance of several absolutely amazing National Parks. The raw beauty of Southern Utah is truly awe inspiring, at least in my opinion. When I was in college, I dated a girl who grew up near Seattle and as we were driving through one of Utah's desolate canyons she remarked at how ugly it was. The ensuing discussion was a turning point in our relationship. (Translation: I realized I could not spend my life with such a clueless person.)
The high country National Forest areas in the southern half of Utah offer excellent fishing and get relatively little traffic. But there's a reason why they get little traffic and it's not because the fishing is poor. It's because they are in the middle of nowhere. If Bill and I had unlimited vacation time and a four-wheel-drive vehicle we could spend the entire summer in the Dixie National Forest and never fish the same creek or lake twice. The problem is, we'll be in a minivan with a schedule to keep so back-packing into remote water isn't really an option.
We're going to try to fish at least one relatively unknown stream on our way down to New Mexico, but since it's going to have to be within short walking distance of a paved road, our options are going to be somewhat limited. But we'll do our best.
The high country National Forest areas in the southern half of Utah offer excellent fishing and get relatively little traffic. But there's a reason why they get little traffic and it's not because the fishing is poor. It's because they are in the middle of nowhere. If Bill and I had unlimited vacation time and a four-wheel-drive vehicle we could spend the entire summer in the Dixie National Forest and never fish the same creek or lake twice. The problem is, we'll be in a minivan with a schedule to keep so back-packing into remote water isn't really an option.
We're going to try to fish at least one relatively unknown stream on our way down to New Mexico, but since it's going to have to be within short walking distance of a paved road, our options are going to be somewhat limited. But we'll do our best.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Fishing in a Barrel
Bill and I went fishing a few weeks back. We'd been planning the trip for a several months and we had timed it to coincide with the last stocking of the Delayed Harvest waters in North Carolina. In theory, I'm not a fan of put-and-take fisheries because I prefer the illusion of catching wild trout but sometimes it's fun to plan a trip where you can catch a whole bunch of trout without working too hard. That's when the DH waters like the Tuckaseegee and upper-Nantahala rivers in North Carolina come in handy.
Unfortunately, our trip ended up being about a week too early. The Nantahala river wasn't stocked with its May allotment of fish a few days after we fished it so although we caught fish, we didn't have one of those 50-fish days we were hoping to have. The next day we arrived at the Tuckaseegee to find that the fish had been stocked less than an hour before we got there. Since the fish hadn't even had time to spread out, we found several pools of crystal clear water containing literally hundreds of fish. At first it seemed like it was going to be loads of fun, but after catching a fish on six or seven casts in a row it got boring and pointless. I switched to a 3wt homemade bamboo rod and tried to catch one of the very large fish (22+ inches) that had been dumped in the river, an endeavor that was made substantially harder by the fact that the smaller fish kept getting in the way.
The whole experience reminded me of something I've always known but sometimes forget: fly fishing is by its very nature designed to strike a delicate balance between not catching enough fish and catching too many fish. If catching fish were the only goal, there would be no reason to limit yourself to feather and foam when a live minnow, a worm, or a stick of dynamite would almost always work better. But if catching fish were of no importance whatsoever, there would be no reason to tie a hook into the fly.
I guess what I'm saying is that to me fly fishing is all about trying to overcome a challenge. Some would argue that the challenge of fly fishing is inherently abitrary, but who cares? Modern society has pretty much already overcome the "real" challenges (i.e. survival needs) so humans invent arbitrary challenges to find value in life. Fly fishing just happens to be one I enjoy.
Back on topic... As I mentally review the list of streams we've chosen to fish during this year's Fly Rods Across America road trip, I'm seeing a pattern: most of these streams are largely self-sustaining with a repulation for having selective medium-to-large trout. In other words, we're intentionally trying to present ourselves with a challenge that can be overcome with proper fly selection and technique. Here's hoping we'll strike that balance of catching just the right number of fish.
Unfortunately, our trip ended up being about a week too early. The Nantahala river wasn't stocked with its May allotment of fish a few days after we fished it so although we caught fish, we didn't have one of those 50-fish days we were hoping to have. The next day we arrived at the Tuckaseegee to find that the fish had been stocked less than an hour before we got there. Since the fish hadn't even had time to spread out, we found several pools of crystal clear water containing literally hundreds of fish. At first it seemed like it was going to be loads of fun, but after catching a fish on six or seven casts in a row it got boring and pointless. I switched to a 3wt homemade bamboo rod and tried to catch one of the very large fish (22+ inches) that had been dumped in the river, an endeavor that was made substantially harder by the fact that the smaller fish kept getting in the way.
The whole experience reminded me of something I've always known but sometimes forget: fly fishing is by its very nature designed to strike a delicate balance between not catching enough fish and catching too many fish. If catching fish were the only goal, there would be no reason to limit yourself to feather and foam when a live minnow, a worm, or a stick of dynamite would almost always work better. But if catching fish were of no importance whatsoever, there would be no reason to tie a hook into the fly.
I guess what I'm saying is that to me fly fishing is all about trying to overcome a challenge. Some would argue that the challenge of fly fishing is inherently abitrary, but who cares? Modern society has pretty much already overcome the "real" challenges (i.e. survival needs) so humans invent arbitrary challenges to find value in life. Fly fishing just happens to be one I enjoy.
Back on topic... As I mentally review the list of streams we've chosen to fish during this year's Fly Rods Across America road trip, I'm seeing a pattern: most of these streams are largely self-sustaining with a repulation for having selective medium-to-large trout. In other words, we're intentionally trying to present ourselves with a challenge that can be overcome with proper fly selection and technique. Here's hoping we'll strike that balance of catching just the right number of fish.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Urban Legend
I've heard a rumor that the Provo River in Utah was once declared by Ripley's Believe It Or Not to be the most heavily fished river in the United States. I'm not sure how one would go about making that determination but most fly fishermen in Utah would agree that the Provo River is a very heavily fished stream.
There are two reasons the Provo River is crowded: (1) its two tailwater sections are within 45 minutes of half the state's population and (2) it is chock full of fish. Because of this, the fly fishermen in Utah have something of a love-hate relationship with the Provo River. On a Saturday or a weekday afternoon as one drives up Highway 189 alongside the river, it appears as though every pool or run holds a fly fisherman. But there are enough fish (too many fish according to some reports) that skilled anglers can catch fish all year round even when there's a crowd.
There are two reasons the Provo River is crowded: (1) its two tailwater sections are within 45 minutes of half the state's population and (2) it is chock full of fish. Because of this, the fly fishermen in Utah have something of a love-hate relationship with the Provo River. On a Saturday or a weekday afternoon as one drives up Highway 189 alongside the river, it appears as though every pool or run holds a fly fisherman. But there are enough fish (too many fish according to some reports) that skilled anglers can catch fish all year round even when there's a crowd.
If there were such a thing as a blue-collar trout stream, the Provo River would definitely qualify. It's not what you'd call a fly fishing destination (in fact the lower part of the river flows right through the Provo/Orem community near Brigham Young University), but it allows thousands of local fishermen to take off of work an hour early, park right next to the stream, and have a decent chance of catching sizeable fish on a fly at any time of year.
One of the things that intrigues me about the Provo River is that the Lower section of the river is divided into an upper artificial-lure-only section where nearly everyone practices catch-and-release (two fish under fifteen inches long can technically be kept over 98 percent of fish are released) and a lower section (the Lower Lower, as I like to call it) where fishermen can use bait and keep fish according to regular fishing regulations. What has happened over the last couple of decades is that although the population of trout in the Provo has increased, the average size has decreased. Last summer, Bill and I had one of those "legendary" days on the Provo where we probably caught 50 fish between the two of us but I don't think either of us landed one over 18 inches long. (Bill claims to have hooked into a Brown trout that would have measured 21+ but since he was unable to land it, we'll never know). What I do know is that these days, the chances of catching a 20-inch trout on the Provo River are much lower than they used to be--but the tradeoff is that reasonably adept fishermen can often catch a number of fish.
This year, I'm tempted to fish the "Lower" Lower section in hopes that we'll have a better chance of catching some larger fish even though the number of fish per mile will be thinned out somewhat due to harvesting by bait fishermen. We'll have to see what happens.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Can You Keep a Secret?
A couple of days ago, I called a family friend who lives in Utah and is an avid fly fisherman. I was calling to let him know that I'm planning to be in Utah this summer and to ask if he had any recommendations for places to fish while I'm there. He's a super nice guy who has been fly fishing the streams and lakes in and around Utah for decades. A few years ago, he was kind enough to take me to the Green River and even gave me some of his favorite self-tied fly patterns to use. Our phone conversation went something like this:
Me: "Hey, how's it going? My mom said she saw you recently and you said the fishing has been great but that you're not fishing the Provo River much anymore."
Him: "Hey, Steve. Well, I fished the Provo a couple of weeks ago and I headed up to the Green a while back as well. But, yeah."
Me: "Well, I'm calling to see if you have any recommendations for places where I should fish while I'm out there this summer."
Him: "
Me: "Uh, wow, uh OK. That sounds awesome. [chuckling]I'll be happy to sign something saying I won't speak of it to anyone."
[NOTE: And I'm totally serious about that. If he takes me to this secret spot, I promise I'm not going to tell anyone else where it is even if we end up adding it to the FRAA2008 agenda. All I will provide is a very general non-descript statement like "XYZ Watershed" or "ABC County".]
Him: [silence]
Me: "
Him: "Where exactly did you go?"
Me: "I don't remember exactly. I had a topo map at the time. I went to [snip] and I recall there being a winding dirt road and a gorge and a place where the road crossed a stream."
Him: "[pause] Interesting. Well, call me when you get into town."
Me: "Ok."
For some reason, I found it funny that he wouldn't tell me the location over the phone. I can see it now... He tells me over the phone and then we show up on the secret stream in July only to find that Dick Cheney and a cadre of Secret Service Agents have taken it over. Homeland Security and all that, of course.
Back in real life, I'm now looking through my Topo maps and I'm wangling around with Google Earth like a crazy pirate poring over a treasure map to figure out where the buried chest could possibly be. And the sad (or is that happy?) fact is, Utah has thousands of miles of trout streams--some very popular, some widely unknown--from which to choose, so I'm just going to have to wait until July.
Me: "Hey, how's it going? My mom said she saw you recently and you said the fishing has been great but that you're not fishing the Provo River much anymore."
Him: "Hey, Steve. Well, I fished the Provo a couple of weeks ago and I headed up to the Green a while back as well. But, yeah."
Me: "Well, I'm calling to see if you have any recommendations for places where I should fish while I'm out there this summer."
Him: "
Me: "Uh, wow, uh OK. That sounds awesome. [chuckling]
[NOTE: And I'm totally serious about that. If he takes me to this secret spot, I promise I'm not going to tell anyone else where it is even if we end up adding it to the FRAA2008 agenda. All I will provide is a very general non-descript statement like "XYZ Watershed" or "ABC County".]
Him: [silence]
Me: "
Him: "Where exactly did you go?"
Me: "I don't remember exactly. I had a topo map at the time. I went to [snip] and I recall there being a winding dirt road and a gorge and a place where the road crossed a stream."
Him: "[pause] Interesting. Well, call me when you get into town."
Me: "Ok."
For some reason, I found it funny that he wouldn't tell me the location over the phone. I can see it now... He tells me over the phone and then we show up on the secret stream in July only to find that Dick Cheney and a cadre of Secret Service Agents have taken it over. Homeland Security and all that, of course.
Back in real life, I'm now looking through my Topo maps and I'm wangling around with Google Earth like a crazy pirate poring over a treasure map to figure out where the buried chest could possibly be. And the sad (or is that happy?) fact is, Utah has thousands of miles of trout streams--some very popular, some widely unknown--from which to choose, so I'm just going to have to wait until July.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Fishing 'til you turn Green
The first stop on the FRAA2008 tour is the Green River. I'm going to pick up my buddy Bill at the Salt Lake City airport on the morning of Sunday, July 27th and from there we'll make the 4-hour trek to the edge of the Flaming Gorge Reservoir in Dutch John, Utah.
Unlike many of the other streams on our road trip, this will not be the first time we've fished the Green River. I've been there a couple of times before and Bill and I did a do-it-yourself wade trip in the summer 2007 as well, but on that occasion we only fished a single day. We caught a ton of fish and had a blast but, frankly, our Green River trip last year wasn't nearly long enough to do the river justice. By my estimate, we fished only about one mile of water and the section we chose to fish was without a doubt the most heavily fished mile of water out of the 10+ miles of wadeable tailwater. I find myself dreaming not about the fish we caught (and there were many) but about the fish we left behind.
So the question is... given the sheer number of streams we're planning to visit, how many days should we spend on the Green River? I've always wanted to float the Green River, so we're definitely going to do that on Monday... but how many more days should we stay?
Yesterday, I finished reading Utah's Green River: A Fly Fisher's Guide to the Flaming Gorge Tailwater and it really got me excited about fishing some of the other (comparatively) less-trafficked areas. My current thought is that we should stay AT LEAST through Tuesday and maybe even into Wednesday. I guess it depends on how early we can get to the river on Sunday. Assuming we're on the water by 3:00pm, we'd still have five solid hours to fish before having to call it a day. But something tells me we won't be there that early, so maybe we should consider fishing the Green all the way through Wednesday.
Given all that we're trying to accomplish with the FRAA2008 roadie, can we really justify spending three days on one river? That's the burning question for today.
Unlike many of the other streams on our road trip, this will not be the first time we've fished the Green River. I've been there a couple of times before and Bill and I did a do-it-yourself wade trip in the summer 2007 as well, but on that occasion we only fished a single day. We caught a ton of fish and had a blast but, frankly, our Green River trip last year wasn't nearly long enough to do the river justice. By my estimate, we fished only about one mile of water and the section we chose to fish was without a doubt the most heavily fished mile of water out of the 10+ miles of wadeable tailwater. I find myself dreaming not about the fish we caught (and there were many) but about the fish we left behind.
So the question is... given the sheer number of streams we're planning to visit, how many days should we spend on the Green River? I've always wanted to float the Green River, so we're definitely going to do that on Monday... but how many more days should we stay?
Yesterday, I finished reading Utah's Green River: A Fly Fisher's Guide to the Flaming Gorge Tailwater and it really got me excited about fishing some of the other (comparatively) less-trafficked areas. My current thought is that we should stay AT LEAST through Tuesday and maybe even into Wednesday. I guess it depends on how early we can get to the river on Sunday. Assuming we're on the water by 3:00pm, we'd still have five solid hours to fish before having to call it a day. But something tells me we won't be there that early, so maybe we should consider fishing the Green all the way through Wednesday.
Given all that we're trying to accomplish with the FRAA2008 roadie, can we really justify spending three days on one river? That's the burning question for today.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
FRAA2008: Planning a Dream
What started out as a "wouldn't it be awesome if" discussion over lunch one day is about to become a reality: my friend Bill and I are going to spend two weeks this summer on a fly fishing road trip across America. We're going to start in Salt Lake City, Utah on 27 July and end up in Raleigh, North Carolina on 11 August. Along the way, we'll travel nearly 2500 miles and fish as many different streams as our schedule allows. We're calling it Fly Rods Across America 2008.
We're still in the planning stages, but we have tentatively planned to fish the following water, some of which is famous and some of which is lesser known nationally (but still very highly regarded by the locals who would be more than happy to keep the knowledge of these streams to themselves):
Green River below Flaming Gorge (Utah)
Upper Provo River (Utah)
Middle Provo River (Utah)
Lower Provo River (Utah)
Diamond Fork River (Utah)
Boulder Mountain (Utah)
San Juan River (New Mexico)
South Platte River (Colorado)
Arkansas River (Colorado)
White River (Arkansas)
South Holston (Tennessee)
Watauga River (Tennessee)
Boone's Fork (North Carolina)
We'll likely add a couple more streams as we get closer to nailing down our exact schedule.
Our plan is to create a web site documenting our journey complete with maps, daily photos and podcasts, stream conditions, and details about our fly selection and gear choices.
More to come.
We're still in the planning stages, but we have tentatively planned to fish the following water, some of which is famous and some of which is lesser known nationally (but still very highly regarded by the locals who would be more than happy to keep the knowledge of these streams to themselves):
Green River below Flaming Gorge (Utah)
Upper Provo River (Utah)
Middle Provo River (Utah)
Lower Provo River (Utah)
Diamond Fork River (Utah)
Boulder Mountain (Utah)
San Juan River (New Mexico)
South Platte River (Colorado)
Arkansas River (Colorado)
White River (Arkansas)
South Holston (Tennessee)
Watauga River (Tennessee)
Boone's Fork (North Carolina)
We'll likely add a couple more streams as we get closer to nailing down our exact schedule.
Our plan is to create a web site documenting our journey complete with maps, daily photos and podcasts, stream conditions, and details about our fly selection and gear choices.
More to come.
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