Author Archives: KBarton10

Who says Pikeminnow can’t jump

It’s one of those luxuries we’ve all enjoyed, parking within proximity to a thriving business and leisurely gearing up as all the fishermen within either burst into tears, or shake their fist at you.

Yesterday was Veteran’s Day, and I had a pocket full of experimentals to try out – overcast and clouds present but high enough not to threaten me with much moisture.

“Fatty” intercepted the second Matuka with a vengeance, I had to marvel at his grit, exactly what is a six inch fish going to do with a four inch minnow? It’s sitting down to a five foot long hero sandwich; you may be really hungry – but outside of dribbling meat and tomato slices down your shirt front – what’s the point?

The “transitional crayfish” were well received. I’d mixed a strand of Orange and a strand of Olive on the LSO – giving it some color reminiscent of the red crawdads. As red hasn’t claimed a victim, the  question, “is it the color or the size?” remains unanswered.

I hit a half dozen nice fish on the Olive and Orange mixture, implying the color is acceptable.

This suggests the red version should have no issue, but it’s size may be offputting.

I’d brought a Magnum Little Stinking Olive, tied on the same hook the red uses – both flies are identical in size, and only colors differ.

The Magnum had the identical reception as it’s smaller cousin. I tied the dry bug on and flipped it at a rock on the far bank, it sank smartly despite my removing half the lead. I gave it one twitch and five pounds of Pikeminnow leaps out of the water with the Magnum down its gut.

 

I guess “size does matter” – as I’ve fished through this stretch a dozen times without laying eyes on this monster. Pikeminnow are long thin fish, and this fellow is about five pounds, and nearly 27″ long.

With only a single Giant Olive, I fish really carefully from then on.

The stretch below yielded another Pikeminnow of nearly the same size and a half dozen nice bass – making me wonder whether the two species aren’t fighting over the darn crawdads.

I didn’t have the courage to try the big red, husbanding the sole Olive flavor until the rain interrupted both me and the fellow shaking his fist from the gravel conveyer up above.

He must’ve been shouting encouragement – or bemoaning his lack of vacation day.

If I was to name a fish based on a single act or deed

This sumbitch would be “FATTY”.

Steadfastly ignore everything your Momma taught you, spend the bulk of your day chasing tail rather than get an education, then tuck your feet under Ma’s table and ask, “What’s fer Dinner, Yo.”

 

The damn fly is as big as he is – and it’s up to us to give this fellow the education he’s sorely lacking.

Meet the Singlebarbed blog’s favorite glutton, a largemouth bass – which aren’t very numerous in the Little Stinking, now I know why.

It’s like learning to tie flies, only cheaper

Fly shops and canny fellows Them heady days of a commercial resale license are long gone, compliments of the Internet. Manufacturers use minimum order to separate the riff-raff from the genuine capitalists – something I gleefully exploit at every opportunity.

With the economy in the tank those $50 orders from “Fatty” over at Singlebarbed are doubly precious, and plays well with my shameless hoarding nature…

I figure you’re interested, hence my mentioning where to find vast quantities of feather dander on the cheap – unfortunately not all my readers are Real Men fly tiers, so not everyone gets to take advantage.

Among the largest sources of capital outlay for fly fishermen are flies, it’s the reason most attempt to learn the craft somewhere in their career; the smart ones fail, realizing that’s it’s twice as expensive  – leaving us slow learners to master the craft.

India and Malaysia have provided most of the flies found in fly shops for the last couple of decades, but China and Africa are coming aboard as direct competitors – and a canny fellow may be able to take advantage.

Minimum orders from Kenyan manufacturers are often only 4 dozen flies – and counting your fishing buddies and their need to lighten your fly box, that’s a single outing. The rest require a minimum of 100 dozen, which represents a season of pals and their grabby mitts.

Both Chinese and African vendors charge about $3.40 per dozen, about thirty cents a fly, making a 100 dozen only $340 US.

Split an order with a buddy, and laugh all the way to the bank…

Alibaba.com lists 605 manufacturers of flies in their sales leads, all contain contact information and sample pictures of their wares. All it takes is an email to the manufacturer requesting samples, and you may find a new best friend, and score enough freebies to cover your next couple of outings.

Most of you may not have noticed the resurgent dollar, how in the last couple of months it’s beating almost every other currency available. As long as the dollar is strong against the Yuan, Drachma, Lire, Pound, etc – you’ll be paying even less for your tackle.

While you’re at it consider one of those really expensive pontoon boats – the ones listed at $1500 or more in the catalogs .. Who do you think makes those?

Minimum order is 10, and direct from the manufacturer it’s pretty much guaranteed to be less than half price. Shipping will add more, but 9 guys at your casting club might be interested.

… and no, you’re not harming American fly tyers – most shops use their best talent on the specific patterns they can’t get from the offshore vendors; all the watershed specific patterns, flies that require higher skill levels, and those patterns that are useful only a couple weeks each year.

It’s all the standard patterns that flesh out their fly selection that are imports.

My eye and his lip should heal at the same rate

I had to pay for all them free walnuts somehow. A.Wannabe Travelwriter had graciously extended gleaning rights to anything I could find on his grounds – and likely had second thoughts after looking out his kitchen window to see me stooped over vacuuming his estate.

Walnut “grabbling” is that way, all you see of the practitioner is his “southern half” bent over reaching for grounded goody, unsettling at best – and enough to despoil your morning coffee.

He tried the traditional farmer option; vicious dogs bursting out of the barn intent on blood – I let them wind up to full gallop before breaking their charge with the rustle of cellophane. By the time I’d exposed yesterday’s Tri-tip – I had a couple Walnut-sniffing-dogs, deaf to their master’s commandments, and hell on walnut detection – so long as I first found them and threw them.

I suppose an all expenses paid exotic angling trip was owed, so I took him to a section of the Little Stinking he didn’t own…

Igneous Rock had arrived earlier – so we followed his muddy footprints seeing what fish we could scare into submission. Nothing stirred, early morning with overcast skies – and nothing was biting.

I put TravelWriter into a likely looking pool and fiddled with the second prototype of the Giant Red-Arsed Cray (working title); the physics were perfect – I’d altered the pattern significantly and swapped the hook to the Togen “creepy-crawly” flavor.

 

I’d added a “turnip” of spun doubled-over yarn at the tail to keep the claws separated, altered the claw shape with “looped” boa yarn (makes a better, bigger claw) and added a loop on the top of the fly to simulate the big fan-tail that dominate a crayfish’s swimming motion.

The Togen hook makes the fly flop over and ride perfectly – although 25 turns of 2 amp is noticeably heavy when casting – the fly sinks nearly a foot per second, legs flopping wildly – and really responds to a twitch of the rod tip. The marabou quality of the yarn makes the entire fly undulate when motion is applied.

 

It didn’t wake anything up in the first pool, but neither did anything else we threw.

We caught up with older brother further downstream. I’d brought three of the big Red bastards (also working title) – and was husbanding them carefully, one was already gone, due to instream obstruction. I was using the smaller olive variation and managed to hit two nice fish in a pile of underwater tree limbs.

Igneous reported he’d landed a monster smallmouth in the 18″-20″ inch range on the Little Stinking Olive – I immediately demanded photographs knowing his lying, conniving, base nature.

 

It was me that got served, as he had proof plenty. Now I’ve got to call and explain to Ma how older bro is to receive my share of the baked goods until I can catch something bigger.

I may have been hasty about cutting the deal, I was backpedaling faster than a Wall Street banker, but I needed the lout to show me where he’d caught that monster.

While we were dickering over price, TravelWriter hooked up with another massive fish – and I did my best to coach him about camera angle, extended arm (to distort size), proper fierce scowl, and vengeful predator pose.

The picture would have been really good but his forefinger caught me in the eye – and reflexively I snapped the shutter…

We’ll have to work on the scowl more – unless it appears the angler is angry, it lacks the “money shot” appeal.

Another shot of Igneous’s monster; the Little Stinking Olive is about three inches long, giving you an idea of the girth on this beast.

For now, Olive > Red. Two of the three samples met tree branches and I saved the last for duplication. The physics trial is complete; fly rides true, weight needs to be reduced so it’s better behaved during casting, and I’ll update the Olive with the leg dividing “turnip” of spun yarn to boost its movement, and change the claw style.

I’ve got a date with Goliath above, I figure my eye and his lip heal at about the same rate.

I’d think before getting amorous with your catch

I hope it was Koi, the alternative is too ugly It’s the way of all things.

Climb to the top of the food chain over many decades of adversity then see it all undone by a promiscuous Koi?

The massive die off of Carp at California’s Clear Lake appears to be linked to someone dumping unwanted Koi, infected by Herpes. How the disease spread throughout the Carp population is still somewhat a mystery, but it may involve unprotected sex and a lot of drinking.

Water, most Likely.

It’s raining iPhones

It could lead to a $300 projectile I love gadgets as much as the next fellow, and after eyeballing an Apple iPhone some months ago – I figured sooner or later I might end up owning one.

Now I’m glad I waited as there may be a better than average chance at scoring a free one. The software geniuses at Freeverse have debuted the first fishing game for the iPhone, and like the Wii, it’s motion activated.

You’ll remember the Wii as the cause of all those smashed TV screens, the “heat of battle” caused the controllers to slip from sweaty fingers – neatly imbedding themselves in some fellow’s expensive wide screen.

… reading the fine print of the iPhone game, it mentions “casting is activated by an overhand throwing motion” – which means the well heeled fellow at the bus stop may want you to “go long” ….

If you want one – just keep running.

It’s a thought … $300 per catch may put you in the middle tier payscale for NFL receivers.

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What in hell am I going to make with that

togen_steelhead It was an oddball hook, normally I would’ve kept moving without another thought – but a sale is not to be taken lightly…

Togen has an overstock sale on an odd shaped “Salmon-Steelhead” hook in black nickel, only a single size available, size 2 – but I took another gander and saw a “creepy-crawly” hook rather than steelhead-salmon steel.

Traditional hooks can be turned over to ride point up only with some heavy add on, bead chain eyes or similar physics-altering device capable of overcoming the weight of the bend and point. Hooks are naturally heavier towards the arse end – and something’s needed to reset that balance point.

“Creepy-Crawly” describes everything that’s big, sinks, and used early season, when the water’s heavy and the fish are looking for the big bug.

This has just the right kind of oddball shape that I can easily flip it over just by positioning the lead on the shank. The size is right for big stonefly nymphs and heavy … you guessed it … crayfish patterns.

Early season nymphing is hell on hooks, and it’s common to rescue a fly from a rock snag to find a nice “L” shape to the point – getting that precious point out of harm’s way would be desirable.

At $7.50 per hundred, they’re half price.

Never has so few been shunned by so many over so little

No one’s accused us of being overly clean or bright, but we own the “adventurous” label hand’s down.

All brownliners have a host of aberrations; we’re as superstitious as baseball players, display enough nervous tics to warrant rehab, and practice strange ritual, reviled and largely misunderstood.

That’s why we only offer lunches to the folks we like. Slaw dogs may be the pinnacle of cuisine in the higher elevations, but Wasp cookies are “culinary cutting edge” regardless of which continent hosts the Brown water we’re in…

Native foods contain  precious anti-bodies to combat the accidental dunking, and coupled with our lay entomological studies – we seek education and immunization in every calorie ingested.

… and on slow days, it’s bait.

Adapt, evolve, and overcome; Darwin didn’t plan on sissies reproducing, and we take offense if we’re escorting one through the Brown Water.

Slogging through all that odiferous stream bottom usually eliminates the urge to dine, especially for the first couple of outings. We dispense with the usual formalities like crystal dinnerware and silken napkins, preferring the camaraderie of finger foods to break the ice.

Neat rows of Protein, no ceremony - just dig in It’s fairly common to mistake our fly box for the party tray as they look so much alike. Neatly ordered rows of “Czech Nymphs” await the angler bent on protein, but “Czech” for fish hooks before swallowing…

Brownliner’s have always espoused “green” dining – only because introducing such high energy foods to traditional fishermen turns them green in a hurry. We keep the recipes close to the vest, and discourage the casual diner from inquiries like …

Now we're going to see some green “…. what was that delicious, crunchy, invigorating item in the salad?”

“I’m so glad you asked, it’s a native species common to all brownline watersheds that feeds off decaying flora and fauna, has zero Transfat, and domesticates amazingly well.

Rich in protein, typically taking on the flavor of its host, it’s abundant, muscular, and rich in nutrition.

It’s our ‘little entomological nutrition powerhouse’ and a trade secret.”

Just a little ahead of it’s time, but it’s the future of the Fillet O’ Fish sandwich

Carp for Christmas It all sounds wonderful on paper, but I remain unwilling to alter my idea of fine table fare. Farmed fish is a foregone conclusion, but I don’t think I’ll be trading the Xmas turkey for a Christmas Carp anytime soon.

It’s comforting to know the Little Stinking is the perfect candidate for a carp farm, substituting horse manure for the diatomaceous earth that makes a Chalkstream so protein rich.

Apart from a daily helping of homegrown mealworms, they browse the muddy depths where a carefully managed pond ecology nurtured by cow manure provides for all their needs. “Carp are a bit like chickens,” says Hepburn.

I’m sure some epicure could taste the difference, waxing poetic about, “earthen overtones, with a pleasing ferrous twang” – but I’m nervous about the “couple weeks in fresh water” part, I just don’t see how a lifetime of squalor can be made up with only two weeks of finishing school.

He has also taken steps to improve the taste of the fish, often described as “muddy”, by transferring the fish to natural spring water a few weeks before harvest.

I had the same reaction when Poppa insisted the common garden snail was a heady french import – and a couple weeks of cornmeal and lettuce leaves were enough to counteract the Snail-B-Gone.

Living in California requires a certain culinary cutting edge mentality, it’s part of the appeal, in this instance I may have to go with the burger instead.

At last count there was enough manure in those to earn me a merit badge of some sort.

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The Dry Fly is beloved of Green Energy

We always get the bad rap This alternative energy thing may have gone a bit too far, am I supposed to keep a butane lighter nearby and cremate all the flies I don’t want?

In today’s competitive marketplace for electrical power, utilities must optimize the use of their capital resources while continually providing system improvements. One way to do both of these is to convert an existing wet fly ash handling system to a dry fly ash handling system. This conversion replaces the large cost and real estate associated with maintaining an ash pond with a dry fly ash storage silo.

I tie more nymphs than dry flies and can only assume that all the lead is removed via the handling system –  but is some canny entrepreneur running a chipper-shredder on the limbs overhanging our favorite stretches of river, and can I file on the energy rights?

The Coal industry and fly fishing share some terms in common, a bit confusing, “dry fly ash” is why you don’t want a coal-fired anything next door. Apparently “dry fly ash” can be sold to fertilizer and cement makers, and “wet fly ash” is landfill. 

Different industry, different science, and the “Dry Fly Guys” still go home with the Prom Queen. I guess we’ll have to settle for all the big fish …