That left boot full of icy water suggested that my, “It’s fixed!” was a bit premature – and my great idea on how to wake enormous and lethargic fish before Winter’s chill struck appeared to be just as porous …
Coming from the far side of the siphon pool last week, I’d seen an enormous Pikeminnow and a few large smallmouth at the deep end. Knowing that the biggest Pikeminnow always respond to big bait, I figured to wiggle some ersatz wormlike object through that pool slowly – hoping the bass might inhale the bait as it went by …
… mostly because as the water grows colder most bass stop chasing food, preferring to husband the calories and let the bait come to them. Pikeminnow don’t seem to care about water temperature, which ensures their continued dominance of the food chain, and like them whichever proved hungry would be fine by me.
But I’d missed my chance, and releases from the dam combined with morning’s chill makes the water colder and put a cork in the bass fishing. Even Little Meat opted to wait on the bank instead of treading water nearby.
I caught quite a few smaller fish on a variety of small nymphs, but after sloshing around the creek for a couple hours, the sun’s warmth proved a bigger draw and I opted for the high ground …
“High” being entirely prophetic given the sudden resurgence of “huffing” and the constant reminder that kids and their brain cells are on divergent paths.
It was no different for our generations other than we had a bit more self respect, opting for aged model glue or teasing nitrous from the whipped cream cans instead of huffing a 12-pack of oven cleaner.
Most of the time it ended badly, with some dimwit flooding both sinuses with pressurized dairy products, but we had respect for the woods and policed our empties, versus leaving them scattered as evidence of our misdeeds.
If memory serves I dropped model making and the dairy industry for fly tying, suggesting it may have been drug use that made brightly colored bits of feather and standing in the rain so appealing …
What’s your excuse?
Possibly it’s the head cement that makes brightly colored bits of feather and standing in the rain so appealing…
That’s one of the lines I use on my wife anyway when she questions my addiction to winter steelhead fishing. The practice of which makes standing in the rain seem positively sane by comparison.
That is a damn fine looking fly sir. The back hook is free of material? You don’t need no stinkin’ wraps to keep the tail from fouling the hook and destroying the action senor?
There is always a bit of fouling possible. The maiden voyage resulted in my best efforts preserved in tree limbs versus fouled tails on the trailer hook.
These actually weren’t bad to cast. I opted for a 10lb trailer hook mono, which is lighter than normal. Perhaps it flexed out of the way.
Fly tying and rod building tools of trade = head cement, flexament, cement thinner, spray contact cement, zap a doodle, spar varnish, turpentine, epoxy, and …. uh, what was the question? Where? Uh…
As Craig mentions it just wasn’t that big a leap now that we’ve thunk about it …
I prefer my whip cream on pies. I recognize the material you have on your fly. Found some at Wal-Mart, still not sure what to do with it other than body material. Does it seem very durable?
It’s Bernat Boa yarn – and is tougher than whang leather. The woven strip at the bottom is bulletproof and ensures the yarn fibers to not pull out of the weave. Great stuff that I use for the Little Stinking Olive – making Bass tremble at my footsteps ..
http://singlebarbed.com/2008/09/08/me-and-the-four-horsemen-of-the-little-stinking/
The hell with the yarn; what’s in dog’s name was in that sandwich?
Whatever it was, it was apparently so tasty even the dog didn’t try to steal it…
It was a Horseradish Turkey Cheddar gutbomb – and the Glutton is pretending something is coming throught the brush, hoping I’ll turn my back on that sucker for one instant …
I know better, Little Meat is greasy fast – akin to a striking rattler.