Carp PIc Shout Out

This was one of the coolest pics i've seen on the interwebbs lately.

Carp scales stolen from Yukon Goes Fishing.

I messed with some carp for about 45 minutes the other day.  I'm still 0-fer.  Soon another will impale himself on my fly again, but this time my hook won't break at the bend.

Yucatan Flats on the Fly - Pesca Maya Review

The Yucatan peninsula seems to be founded on a slab of chalky stone, and after an hour of being jostled down a Mexican jungle dirt road in a van full of strangers, local radio station playing seemingly the same song on repeat, one's mind begins to short circuit and confuse the chalky dust covering the road side vegetation as fake snow applied from an aerosol can. It can turn twighlight zone real quick in the Mexican backcountry. The van ride that started in the 5:30 am darkness ends on a strip of Caribbean wilderness no wider than a 100 yards with the sea to the East and Ascension Bay to the West. Pesca Maya fishing lodge is an unglamorous lodge perched on a remote strip of jungle in the middle of paradise.

Front porch of the Pesca Maya Ascension Bay Fishing Lodge

I've spent a lot of money to cast a fly towards bonefish on the picturesque flats of Ascension Bay, and the flavor of the lodge seems to screams "Mexico" more than "moeny well spent." During a breakfast of pancakes, scrambled eggs chunked with diced ham, and coffee I'm introduced to my guide, Wilberth. Moments later, we are walking down one of two sandy tire ruts that leads to my first tropical flats fly fishing excursion.

road to dock

Less than 5 minutes later, Wilberth has the motor on the mexican panga whining, and 10 minutes after that, Wilberth's assistant Angel hands me a 9 wt. Sage with a right-hand set up Hatch reel and I step up on the platform, tucked close enough to the mangroves to shelter us from the 25 mph winds..  Nearly an hour passes and we have only seen mullet and barracudas. I begin to question if I shelled out way too many bones to chase fish.  We finally corner an nice sized snook under some mangrove roots, and part after Wilbert and Angel throw ice from the cooler at the fish in attempts to move him out from under his cover. Wilbert signals we are changing locations, and I hope that the fact we havn't seen nary a bonefish and have already resorted to "jumping" snook out of the bushes with cooler ice doesn't foreshadow the rest of the days activities.

Wilberth taking us to new water

Not only is the new location more picturesque, we start seeing fish.  In the next 2 hours I land my first two bonefish, miss my first two bonefish, and cast to 4 permit and 1 baby tarpon. The skunk was off, and I was crazy stoked to see permit, much less cast to 4 and get a follow.  Lunch on the boat was great, and afterwards, the fishing only got better.

My first bonefish in the boat

Angel with my second, and smallest bonefish of the day

 I can't say enough about Wilberth Xec.  Not only could did he pole a panga with 3 people in 25 mph winds all day, he gave me an opportunity for a grand slam on my first trip in those rough conditions. The end of the day saw seven bone fish landed, with a handful of jacks, a blue runner, and cuda to boot.  I only hooked myself in the back once. Angel helped to manage my line on the deck, and Wilberth's ability to spot fish and coach me on strips and hook sets was great. He english was some of the best I heard from any native while in Mexico, and his knowledge of the fishery and techniques were spot on .  I highly recommend Wilberth if you ever choose to set up a trip through Pesca Maya.

The location was remote and gorgeous. My guide worked hard, was professional, and put me on fish in tough conditions. It wasn't cheap, but I got picked up from my hotel by Pesca Maya, fed breakfast, and caught fish on my first attempt on bonefish. If I had a bucket list, this would have been on it and happily scratched off at the end of the day.

Here are some more pics from the trip.

Wilberth Xec, Pesca Maya Guide

Front porch of the lodge

Ocean view from the lodge

Yucatan. Bone, Bone, Bone...

Ascension Bay, Yucatan Peninsula Mexico

Bone Thugs in harmony always annoyed me. Wrapping about "the first of the month, so cash your checks and come one." Braggin' about welfare. The Brits call it "the dole." Now, I find myself on the dole for a family trip to the Mayan Riviera in February courtesy of my generous in-laws. Welfare and bones will come clashing together now, and I'll only have to shell out bones for a bone fish day trip since other expenses will be covered via the dole. The Bone Thugs just moved up to the top of my list.  We're relating.

I have a decision to make, and I would love any help you can offer.  I can travel to Cozumel by ferry to a relatively unsought after flats fishery and save about $150 for guide fees, or I can make the two plus hour trip south to the famed Ascension Bay. Will Cozumel have less pressure and be healthily of the radar, or is Ascension Bay on the radar cause its just plain sick and ripe for flats fishing. Right now I'm leaning towards the bay off of its rep and more professional services. But I will pay more. Anybody have any advice for me from prior experience? Hit me with it.

Google earth shots of my options below.

Cozumel flats

Ascension Bay flats

Trout Wanted...Only large Browns Need Apply

I don't like eggs.  Unless, said eggs are in a quiche, my special recipe chorizo breakfast burrito's, or brownie batter.  Today was all about eggs in brownies on the Davidson. The Dirty D and it was done dirt cheap.

This first bruiser was the second fish to take the veiled apricot egg in the first 5 minutes, but was the first to hand.

These fellows followed.

This was my first outing in over three months, and I was all smiles.  A nice rainbow similar in size to the fish above was the other big fish of the day, and a half dozen or so others made for a great 5 hours on the water. The river was flowing at 100 cfs and it was overcast and in the 30's.  My buddy heath sweetened the deal by tuning up my reel while on the water.

I noted 2 distinct changes in my fishing after my second child was born.  One, my high sticking fitness level has plummeted.  I left with a fiercely burning right shoulder. Two, I don't always sing on the water, but when I do, it's a great tune from the likes of some super cool band (stay thirsty my friends).  Today however, the words that softly spilled from my mouth were the lyrics from "Go, Diego Go!" Lame.  Maybe its so lame, I could convince someone I'm uber hipster for singing it.  Doubtful.  I found myself singing it at least twice.  I love my kids like crazy, but not the Diego theme song. Here are a couple of other pics.

Foxy Red

Road kill fox, recycled to a Foxy Red Minnow, used to lure an 18 inch rainbow to hand.

The fish above is from my last outing... in October.  My second child, and first son, was born Sept. 28 this year; Mills Joshua Jones. Named in part after a river that always entices me here in WNC.  Needless to say, the fam takes precedence over leisure, and my 3 month old and 20 month old aren't ready to learn how to high stick or tie a surgeons knot yet.  I do plan on fishing this week, and if time allows, post an entry. 

See ya in the funny pages. 

  

Prose: Mid-Afternoon Crickets

A took a nice wild brown that slipped out of the net in my old stomping ground of Appalachian State last Sunday morning.  It ate an October caddis pupa.  It was a reminiscent trip a day after I wrote the reminiscent lines below.

Two years ago I took my first sip of muscadine wine and I was instantly transported to the row of large leafed grape vines that stood between my grandfather’s garden and wooded, weathered tool shed. Today, the staccato clicks of grasshoppers overpower the subtle mid-afternoon chirps of crickets, and I am returned to a long sandy section of gravel driveway from my childhood. This portion of road parted two hayfields, and I would walk its half mile length from the bus to my house in elementary school.  Grass and dandelions separated the left tire worn path from the right, and I ofen drifted towards the deeper, softer sand of the left side of the road.  As I would draw closer to the edge of the woods, where the road steeply lifted through a tunnel of pine and poplar, each of my small steps forward would send grasshoppers flying from the sun warmed sand which had settled there after years of runoff.  They would disappear into thousands of sparsely spaced, slender stalked, purple heads of fescue that draped either side of the road.  The image of painted grass hoppers dispersing like water before the bow of my third grade body is a clear one; but it’s the sound of those few crickets, chirping not at night, but in full sun, that evokes emotions of the imminent change at hand.  Summer dwindles, and the noisy green of leaf and insect will soon give way to the gray silence of winter.  At this part of the walk home I would have already discarded the meaty remnants of the apple I pulled from a tree in the heavy laden orchard a quarter of a mile back, and it’s sweetness would linger like the blue haze that softened Mt. Pisgah’s distant silhouette over the falling field to my left.

                  Nearly 30 years later, I sit shaded by birch and tulip poplars, pond side and fifty miles from my childhood home in the mountains.  Bass and bluegill regularly disturb the quite, as they snatch stray grasshoppers from the still surface water.  And there are crickets.  You can hear them, mid-day chirping, beneath the birds, hopper clicks, and breeze. The crickets call me to that dirt road, to a season, to God. These are the good days.  These are the dying days.  My hope is in the Creator and Renewer.  Have mercy on me, oh Lord.

Other Images from the Boone, NC Area

Brown Trout for Me Bum

I picked up a couple of uber girly bar stools at a yard sell for the back porch.  They were your standard bar stools that had been painted and monogrammed pink, purple, and other various colors by two sisters for a debutant activity.  I started sanding all the estrogen off the stools and turned them into trout themed deck decor.

Brown trout skin patterned stools.

buttery brown fade base

halo base coat

spots

black gloss legs on stool

finished

Come on in, set a spell.