I was hoping for a little break in the steady deluge of chocolate water coming down the river. We’ve had our first two rain showers of the year, I figured some of that may have diluted the viscous thick brown snake coming out of the farm fields. Nope.

I attempted a foray each of the last three days and have little to show for it.

The temperatures have dropped into the low 70’s and it’s pleasant wandering around, but there isn’t much activity. The Trico spinner fall is active each morning, we have some new midge action, but only little fish seem to be eating, and there don’t appear to be many of those either.

The Pikeminnow vanished, smallmouth and bluegill have taken their place. Carp can occasionally be seen when they break the surface, but they are lying inert mostly, the “coffee” water is likely the culprit.

This morning the first gaggles of snow geese flew by noisily, and I stumbled on four deer grazing on undergrowth. The main event was seeing my first bobcat, cats are always wily, and it was stalking the grassy area near the river as I crested a rise behind it.

I managed to interest some bluegill and small bass in Angelina nymphs I had constructed – hungry fish aren’t always the best experiment but the foul water limits my playing field.

I decided to call it early so I could tie some more flies and watch a little football, hastened by two dimwits downstream that decided to unload 50 rounds in quick succession. They couldn’t see me but at the rate they were firing, they weren’t aiming much.

LiveJournal Tags: Bobcat, deer, football, dimwits with handguns, fishing

Got plenty of exploring done, fished 6 miles of river over the last 14 days. Fishing is a lot more than catching, and there’s nothing like the reward of nice surroundings and willing fish.

None were big, but all were enthusiastic and committed. I’m left satiated and 8 lbs lighter due to of liquids lost while humping trail in triple digit weather. The hip boots arrived none too soon, another week and I would have been a casualty.

The Carp are still elusive, but I don’t feel so bad after reading the Day Tripper’s account of spotting carp, I felt their pain. Being solo all I can do is use stealth and foul language, usually one then the other…

Lots of free turkey tails, and they were as parched as I was, overcoming their fear of humans long enough to get water from the creek bottom. Something to ponder in November, us fly tiers are incorrigible – if it moves we are sure to kill it for the fur or feathers, with only beaks and feet to make the trash can.

I do need to find a better hydration system, as I sure can’t drink the local effluent, that will be a next season issue, as temperatures will likely start falling soon.

Satellite imagery was a new tool in my kit this year. Both Google Earth and the Microsoft Terra Server offer the ability to get imagery of the local landscape, although both are often dated. Unknown water is always a  challenge as the next bend always holds more promise than the last. Getting topological information ensures you always have a feel for what lies ahead, for us aging, lard butted solo fishermen, it’s a safety issue as well.

See you after work, on the foam line.

Technorati Tags: brownlining, Google Earth, vacation, satellite imagery

The “Purple Mountains Majesty” missed my subdivision by a wide swath, but Getting Bit is just that, throw a fly in anger and hope that you get something with fins that’s receptive.

This is what I got to work with and I’m approaching it with both caution and optimism.

Caution because with any stream in the rural-urban interface, you’re as likely to find a corpse as you are to find a pristine riffle of hungry steelhead. Both are equally remote, but you just never know.

Optimism, because I saw about 60 salmon here a couple of winters ago. Anything that can support a run of salmon can support something that bites flies year round.

This is your typical effluent enriched central valley farm creek. Access is spotty, but in casing what’s here I have managed to scare up carp, black bass, suckers, a couple of lawnmowers, and a chest of drawers. Gravity got the better of the drawers.

Mid-August means the water is at it’s lowest, allowing me to see where the deep channels are, where the source of the dirty water is, and avoid the ambushes from the EPB (Eat Paintball, Biatch) guerrillas that live in the cane breaks all weekend.

The source of the dirty water was easy to find. It had been diverted through a  half dozen farms and a horse stable, so getting above that was the first step.

Midday is a poor time to inventory bug life, but it was what I had. I scanned the bridge abutments and any spider webs that I came across, to no effect. Saw the prerequisite damselflies and dragonflies buzzing about, but checking the underbrush yielded nothing.

Not wearing waders limited my access to underwater objects; a cursory check of submerged rocks and sticks revealed snails, minnows, and tadpoles. I found a wing from something in a web, but couldn’t tell whether it was a caddis or a termite.

Someone had been there before me – another optimist. Found two discarded hook packages (snelled #8), one worm container, and half a clam shell. The clam shell would have been used for catfish or carp, the #8 hooks were consistent with the clam-as-bait theory.

Given the spent paintball rounds I saw, I might have been tempted to slide a red one on that #8 hook, even if I missed the strike – it’s likely that fish would’ve farted crimson for a week or two.

None of this is my idea, it is part of the perils of the Internet. Reading blogs like The Urban Flyfisher and Carp on the Fly is the fishing equivalent of luring underage school children across state lines.

With a two week vacation looming on the horizon, I will be returning with the appropriate armaments; crossed bandoliers of chilled beverage, and  a flyrod. At minimum, I will piss off the folks driving to work on the bridge above…

So what’ve you got in your backyard, Mister?

Technorati Tags: farm creek, fishing, snelled hook, cache creek, carp