Friday, August 16, 2013

Red Spread

Deserted old flat bed in a North Carolina marsh flat

Last Wednesday I was netting the 18 inch rainbow in Western North Carolina after one of the best fights I've encountered with a trout.  This week, I really understood what kind of power a fish can put out while landing my first redfish on a fly on the other end of our great state.  North Carolina is truly unbelievable.

Red Fish pull. Period. After at least 7 short outings in Charleston, I was surprised to land my first red on a North Carolina marsh flat where no one in the area seemed to talk about fishing flats, much less know anyone who fly fished. Essentially, most of this experienced played out far different than I ever imagined, while other parts where spot on.  I knew I had two limited chances to chase reds on our family vacation, and my first outing was mostly wandering through the marsh trying to figure out where to concentrate my efforts.  It turned out to be super windy at this 5.0 high tide, and when a found a tailing red, I blew two cast in the wind, had two decent casts, then had a third cast wrap around spartina grass right on top of the tailer. Fail.

The following day seemed to be to much of a Drake article set up to expect to catch a fish. A last-chance-for-who-knows-how-long kind of scenario.  Here is a list of ways it went different than I had invisioned while day dreaming about red fish.


1. Red fish fight way harder then any one has ever told me.  Way harder. Stinkin' awesome.

2. I was convinced all the waked and fin tips I was seeing on this day were mullet, and didn't even cast at them until this guy ate my fly. The fins looked gray, not orange.  I think the cloud cover kept the fins from lighting up "red."Later I realized all the "mullet" I let swim through the trough I was watching were all decent sized reds.

3. I didn't see a single tailing fish. Saw some fins pushing through the shallow trough to get into the flat, but no tailors.

4. I lead a wake with a good fly, and strip directly back to me when I got the eat.

5. I don't even remember thinking about the hook set. I just happened.

6. If it took me four minutes to land the fish, than three minutes and 50 seconds were spent wondering if it was a red fish.  Some one had told me bonnet sharks can get in the flat and chase bait, and I was thinking it was probably a bonnet. When it was at my feet, I finally realized I had caught a good red fish.

7. I didn't get any epic pics of my first red fish. Standing knee deep in a marsh, no dry land near by, with an i-phone, fish, and fly rod in hand is the equivalent of texting and flossing while driving a stick shift; it's awkward and you need another arm or two.

thought i had the whole fish in the frame


Beautiful spot tail (way out of focus)
Some other things went as hoped, invisioned, and planned.

1. My cyber scouting with google maps was great. FOund access and flats from satellites.

2. I had always wanted to take my first red on a more traditional pattern, and not a spoon fly. After some calls, I decided to go with a copper head variant. Got 'em.

3.  The tide was supposed to be around 5.5 on this day, which should lead to more fish in the flat, and it did. They cam piling through about 45 minutes before high tide (i just thought they were big mullet).

4. Without the wind from the day before, I was able to watch for wakes in the smooth water much better, and here crashing and splashing in the spartina grass far easier.

5.  I caught one in the bottom of the 9th. Thats how it happens in the story books, and thats how it happened this time.  It had been 2 years since my last shot, and I hoped that would have been a walk off home run situation.  But I left empty handed after four attempts int he Charleston marsh.

I think my carp fishing earlier this summer helped with my presentation for reds, but red fight way harder than carp. The tug is the drug, and reds pull hard and fast. I walked out of the spartina that day a little early. There was an impending storm, but even with the chance of catching more, my first red had me walking light and grinnin' like a fool.




sunset over the inter coastal waterway



Friday, August 2, 2013

Summer Trout, Summer Not.


On the second annual classic trails-to-trout trip. Matt Sloan and I were equally unsuccessful at "slayin' 'em."  Late last July we ventured into the bowels of Pisgah Forrest to find unpressured trout heaven. We wound up with a great memory, good times by a camp fire, and a few puny trout. Late July and August may be one of the toughest times to trout fish in the south, even above 3,000 feet in elevation.  Low, warm water inevitably leads to stressed, spooky fish. With all the rain this summer, water levels are up and water temps are down.  I hoped our late July trip would fish more like early June.




We didn't venture as far off the beaten path this time, but the conditions seemed perfect.  Good flows, water temps below 60, and we never saw another fisherman on the river or walking by our campsite.  Results... dink city.  We caught a few tiny rainbows.  I hooked and didn't land one MONSTER of a 12 incher.  He did have a super wide red strip on his side though.  Beautiful.





I've officially blamed the poor fishing on the full moon.  "Dem fishes had full bellies from the nocturnal night light of Mr. MoonFace and the Stone Fly Buffet," I told myself and Matt.  Speculation (However, let it be known, if I ever have a bluegrass band, we will be called Mr. MoonFace and the Stonfely Buffet). It was pretty scenery, better company, and a great time in the woods.  The fishing was marginal.  North Carolina dog days just seem tough on trout.





However, the fishing is about to be on fire out West (no morbid wildfire pun intended).  Hopper time.

August Rainbow on the Fraser River in Colorado


Monday, July 15, 2013

Carp Vid from the Local (Big Cicada Dry Flies)

This short was stolen from S.C.O.F.'s latest release. Ryan of Bent Rod Media frequents the local and does a stellar job fishing and making videos.
 

Saturday, July 13, 2013

All Gold Err'thang (carp)

After  probably 15 outings and more than years worth of moons, I finally intentionally landed a carp on the fly (This excludes the  carp I  unintentionally landed on a squirmy wormy on the "dream stream" section of the S. Platte pictured in my blog's background.  It was my first fish on the "dream stream" which felt like a dream at first tug, and more like a scene from a hypnotist's comedy routine once I realized my twenty inch trout was a stinking carp).  One change of locations completely changed my luck.  Same lake, but a different spot than I had visited the last 12 times.  It only took two trips, totaling 3 hours cumulatively, two put my first two carp-on-the-fly on the board with a blue channel cat to boot.  The first location that I thrashed for the previous 14 months held carp, but required wading super skinny water, which inevitably lead to spooked carp, which shut down the hole with pheromone alerts.  I hooked two in the old mud flat, with one spit hook and one broken hook.

The new locale is boss. It allows me to walk manicured shoreline, all the while dodging copious amounts of goose excrement,  for about a quarter of a mile without ever seriously spooking fish. Aside from never disturbing the water with my feet, I stand 2 feet above the water instead of knee deep in the water, giving me better perspective for sight fishing. My first common was small, but my second was a slimey five pounds that put a good bend in the 7 weight. I'm stoked to have a honey hole 15 minutes from the house for a quick trip to scratch my itch when I can't haul it up to the mountains for troots. I don't always fish, but when I do I prefer trout...nonetheless, count me in for carp.









I caught three more this week. Here are some more pics.


Thursday, June 20, 2013

Big Fish, Big Bugs, North Georgia

Green Drake, N. Georgia in June

My blog post are about as frequent as my Green Drake sightings.  I was fortunate to fish a green drake hatch on the Nantahala 2 years ago, but my closest experience with an actual specimen was during a Tuesday night Hee Haw style hoe down in Georgia the second week of June this summer.

I had the privilege of spending 3 weeks near Jasper Georgia from May 24 to June 16, and the little creek running through the property there didn't disappoint.  I probably only had a total of 3 hours on the water in my three weeks there, but every night I was given a free entomology class walking to and from events on the property as bugs would show themselves from dusk on.

Sulpher Mayfly

Little Yellow Sallie

Goldne Stone

Goldne Stones and a Caddis

Green Drake


Huge Green Drake



 The fishing wasn't too bad either.





I think the bigger guys were hold over stockers from the lake below, but I'll take a surprise 16 plus inch  trout in Georgia any time.  I was still real surprised to find wild fish in the 12 inch range in the tiny creek.  Stimulators took them on top, and Kevin's Stonefly for the big boys underneath. Blessed.  





The Hoe Down That The Green Drake Crashed









Thursday, April 25, 2013

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.


Tuesday, February 19, 2013

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