Posts from the “Freshwater” Category

The Importance of Having No Good Reason

Posted on May 16th, 2012

These are the known facts. The stream holds trout and fishermen sometimes fish for them and sometimes they bite.             There is much conjecture about every other circumstance. The trout have not been here since the beginning of time; the stream wasn’t even here until the Wisconsin Glacial Episode. In the next epoch the rocks and till will  be worn into fine powder or trapped and redistributed in retreat. The path to the edge of the bank was muddy from the recent rain and when I stepped onto the rocks in the stream bed mud swirled around my boots. There are other things I could have been doing but freedom of choice extends only so far into the continuum–80 years…

Tasty Evil

Posted on May 9th, 2012

Perch eat their own. They chase flies designed to look like small perch and flies designed to look like big perch. Flies intended, obviously, to catch fish that eat perch. No perch is safe, even amongst its own kind. They don’t fight worth a damn on rods heavier than a 2-weight but for a species lacking any and all moral distinction they taste exceptional fried in beer batter.

War Paint

Posted on May 1st, 2012

Hank iii wrote about being tattooed and branded. The smallmouth bass has its own kind of markings. If the aggressive take didn’t tell you, or immediate rise to the surface with a succession of jumps followed by the rod doubling over on a thrash to the bottom, the look on its face after landing should clue you in. It’s saying, you and me are never going to be friends.

Should Have Been Here Tomorrow

Posted on April 30th, 2012

The water temperature held fast at 44 degrees but the air temperature dropped precipitously below that. The wind brought snow flurries into the occasion. Spending 12 formative years in Florida tends to diminish appreciation for that sort of clime. Matt Smythe is a Western New Yorker with steelhead tendencies and one day to get it done. Cold could not be an impediment. Things got worse before they got better but by that time the only trace left of Matt was a half-empty bottle of Maker’s Mark. It got better Matt.  

Split-Shot Photo Fail

Posted on April 17th, 2012

I’m a fan of the split level fishing photo, where half the shot is underwater and half is above, like this. Or this. But when I stick my waterproof point and shoot (with the 73 second shutter delay) in there, they come out like this:     Or this: There’s a reason some people get paid for what they do.

Threats

Posted on March 23rd, 2012

The fish should have been in shallow but they weren’t. I asked the old European man with the carp bells on his rod tips about the situation. “The stocking trucks came this week,” he said. The carp wanted nothing to do with this. The lake has several access points along the shore where the growth has been cleared or the hiking path bends close to the water. Fishermen had stationed themselves shoulder to shoulder bombing fluttering spoons out beyond the drop-off. A few placed plastic buckets behind them in the dirt. One walked by and held up a stringer dangling three perfectly proportioned 12-inch rainbow trout. “I caught 70,” he said with a wink. Three is what you can keep. I’ll chop ya up…

Chronic For Monic

Posted on March 16th, 2012

I believe in the clear. I’ve been intrigued by Monic fly lines since first reading about the clear, monofilament-cored floating lines on Midcurrent. An article there by Paul Bruun outlays its history. It’s been around since 1993, so I’m a little late to the game, but for the most part it seems to have a fanbase among anglers with a specific skill set–those casting to bonefish, tarpon and permit. I decided to give it a go, opting for the All Weather Clear Floating Line in a 6 weight. I’ve fished it five days so far this year–all in warm water Florida lakes with large littoral zones, shallow bowl canals or box cut canals with extremely clear water. In all cases it’s stillwater or with…

You Can Almost Think That You’re Seeing Double

Posted on March 15th, 2012

On a cold, dark night on a Spanish stair. (Or a warm windy day as the bite turned on at sunset.) Fished for an hour at dusk, mostly achieving nothing. I don’t know if it was the change in fly or the time of day but a flip switched and the hits finally started coming. Weird things start happening when you stick your point and shoot underwater and there’s not much light.

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