Category Archives: Fly Fishing

Beats hanging the Puce and Mauve on a male torso

Female-Casting_clothed The fly fishing brotherhood has always prided itself in dimly lit showrooms, fly-specked plate glass, and unshaven trolls rummaging through backrooms for Good Stuff …

… if the proprietor doesn’t reach under the counter or fetch the item from The Back Room, we know we’re getting the “tourist” deer hair – or the Whiting neck everybody and his Momma pawed over and rejected.

Insert real lighting so you can see the moth’s flutter, empty the sodden ashtray up by the register, and yesterday’s coffee being reheated out of indifference, and you’ll have to compete with the tonier clothing shops like Orvis.

… customers are just as bad. Unshowered, unshaven, and unashamed, tromping over stained carpet in wet wading shoes, spreading invasives in the dry fly bins – then halting in admiration of the buxom mannequin in mid cast … drawn to the reel or vest she’s modeling while contemplating any number of childish impulses.

With our average age closing on 50, and given the maturity and character we’ve accumulated over a lifetime of struggles, it’s nice to know we’ve evolved enough so that gals can admire a lavender vest on something other than a male torso, nor do they need fear someone brushing them aside to peer under the mannequins tee shirt …

Ice fishing with Friends

Then again, a couple year’s worth of trolling fly fishing blogs will rot your frontal lobe, and with 50 being the new 20 …

… you cannot be trusted.

Full Disclosure: All the upskirt completely buck nekkid photos of the mannequins are available here, you letch.

Tags: female fishing mannequins, lecherous anglers, Orvis, the Good Stuff

Informal research crystallizes the Invasive Species Issue

Singlebarbed reader “Ed” recently took me to task on my curmudgeonly stance to invasive species, outlining newly minted facts that was sure to change my mind, and those of my readers …

On Saturday I was visiting a girl friend and we were using her kayaks which hadn’t been paddled in awhile.  We cleaned them up, washed them out … turns out the one I was in had a bit of a leak so I went to shore to empty it …

Copperhead Invasive 

… and found it carrying a lethal copperhead. Naturally, my first thought was for the watershed so I spritzed it with 409, which blinded the SOB, made it angry as hell – and it was fanging anything that moved.

I stomped it six or seven times with rubber soles and while they flattened it some, I couldn’t get any real purchase to finish the job, so I grabbed my extra pair of felts and beat it to death …

… and they’re right, there was twice the guts, eyeballs, teeth and scales on the felt than on the rubber.

You may want to rethink the felt – rubber thing.

… and my response was particularly evasive given the circumstances:

Ed, just how long have you known this gal, and is she sending you a message? … Just sayin’ is all …”

Tags: invasive species, copperhead, girlfriend, Formula 409, kayak fly fishing, rubber soles, felt soled wading shoes

The End of fly fishing as the World has known it

Lands and sticks to any surface, carries seven times its weight and releases on command? Teensy little nano-soldiers that deploy needles to adhere – and they’re going to waste them on insurgents and forest fires?

It’s my goddamn tax dollars at work, so how much to add a barb?

I always knew dry fly fishermen would ruin the sport completely, not with the ascots and monocles, sipping liquor or shaded verandahs, merely their obsession with seeing the fish grab – and how much more fun that was …

Now that Nintendo and XBox will be elbowing Sage and aged bamboo out of the picture – and a visible fish can be impaled by flies regardless of depth, we’ll all decry the blood sports as “lame” and return to the sofa whence we came.

Fly tiers out of business, the sporting fraternity torn asunder, hundreds of years of tradition out the window, and who knew?

Swarm robotics, the ability to manufacture nano-insects that respond to nimble joystick-trained fingers dancing across an iPhone, and the Army will be buying millions of them.

In the long term, the U.S. Army certainly sees miniature “bug” UAVs as a big part of its battlefield operations. According to a recently released roadmap, clouds of them would be used to survey buildings and various sites before soldiers enter them.

via Federal Computer Week

Controlled by Ipod's and nimble little fingers

via US Army Unmanned Aircraft Systems Roadmap 2010-2035

Sure there’ll be old surplus units. We’ll be able to buy a couple of hatches worth and felt pen them to look like Pale Morning Duns … It’ll be part of a package offered at destination hotels, “two nights stay plus fishing” (on some private reserve managed by PETA) where “duffers” can remember how it used to be, while irritating children impatiently wait on Grandpa and his needs.

It’s certain that someone on the Joint Chief’s is a purist – what with trout shaped dirigibles and attack Mayflies, in light of the carnage about to ensue, I just wish he’d foreswear the joints for a couple moments of clarity …

You and I won’t have much to worry about as we’ll be incarcerated along with the rest of the “Catskill 700” … we’ll hear jackboots grinding on gravel just prior to the SEAL team emerging from our riffle – our vest painted with lasers before we’re dropped to the earth, all the while protesting innocence while some kid renders sentence:

Yessir, he’s got a pocketful of black AR-97A’s, and a fistful of subsurface agents in his vest – looks like cheap Chinese produced knockoffs, probably carrying a biologic payload …”

Huh?, those are Black Gnat’s, I got them a … (solar plexus blow with gun butt) … huff .. huff .. wheeze.”

Small finger skills qualifies me to assemble the SOB’s which is a plum assignment compared to the sweltering heat of the prison laundry – where all that hard work scrubbing invasives will pay off for the rest of you … for the State.

Tags: Nano robots, swarm robotics, fly fishing humor, fly tier, fly tying contraband, dry fly purist, less joint more chiefs, SEAL team, nano-insects, attack mayfly

I call it four grabs and a welcome asterisk

It's his lake, the rest of us are backdrop

I lack the Warden-aint-looking-Velveeta “rod holder”, the depth meter, but more importantly I’m missing that gracious and relaxed look that comes with consistent success.

I was too busy sulking to notice. Fishing is five grabs – and if you’re lucky enough to hook most of them it’s a good day; sunburn hurts less, dinner tastes better, and the mosquitoes bother some other unfortunate.

Me. Mostly.

I flopped around trying secret and double-secret, figuring with each new color I’d unlock the lake and its secrets, but it was for naught. The weather was friendly, yet the fishing remained deathly.

calibaetis spinner

Not a Factor.

My Savior

Why you keep a #10 Adams in a box of #16’s

After the sixth or seventh honey bee floated by I was rethinking the McGinty – and why hadn’t I been smart enough to have a half dozen at the ready…

Everywhere was “Pizza” water. Toppings included every terrestrial not supposed to be there, a smattering of everything that belonged, throw in some midges just to confound everyone and a rise was something to dread, not its normal welcome quickening.

Two fish over was the fellow that likes mayfly, and I’d just cast at the fish that prefers Ladybug…

… and that welcome breeze, the one that adds enough cooling to your burnt forearms so’s you won’t notice – suddenly delivers enough protein to wake up everything downwind plus sending the sunbathers screaming.

It’s the reason you have that one bedraggled #10 Adams in your box of sixteen’s – where you pray you used lots of black thread, because having tried everything earlier, you know you’re lacking ants of any shape or color.

A deft use of the nippers – a bit of artistic license, and sent on its way with a prayer. The first fish shakes it loose in midair, and with only four grabs left …

Why you have a #10 Adams

… that satisfying feeling of a solid hookup. Large meat heading for the weeds and suddenly 5X is too thin, gossamer even.

Everything looks better

Suddenly everything looks better. The girls are prettier, the sky bluer, dinner is strictly gourmet, and there’s still some fish working. No one’s noticed – none have crept closer, and after those two Canada Geese trail past my fly …

NO. He did not just eat that

(The honker is making a wry face, beak and tongue suddenly active)

… and the line is moving smartly from the slack position to nearly taught.

Canada Geese love big dries

Time freezes.

The little Devil on my left shoulder says, “ Dude, figure she’s nearly eight or nine pounds, that bitch can peel line …”

The lesser Devil on my right says, “True, but you’ve got about 60 small children and parents on the beach to your left, that Honker is going to scream bloody murder, likely go airborne – and while you’re flying that kite with your click-pawl pointing its ugly finger right at you, the entire National Park Service is going beat you to death in a really public way.”

… so I feed slack as fast as I can, the Goose is still mouthing frantically and I’m praying the last of my five grabs is a clean miss.

Ptui … and the fly drops safely into the water.

Left shoulder Devil isn’t done yet, “Dude, that counts. It’s aquatic, it lives here – it’s natural, and it was a clean take.”

Right side responds quickly enough, “ An asterisk at best, what’s important is that as the National Park Service has recently converted from wheel guns to the Model 92 – featuring 15 in the clip and one in the pipe – they’ve stopped counting until the slide locks at empty.”

We all agreed that was a good point.

5.5 Million trout died for your sins

Everyone knows how fishermen simply open up to the polite inquiry of  a summer intern when statistics and national averages are involved. Notepad at the ready, some poor fellow interrupted in his watery reverie, glances up impatiently and answers, “anything large, but fishing’s crappy” – which immediately pads the numbers in favor of the warmwater crowd.

Trout_Statistics

The most recent and exhaustive study of trout fishermen and their habits has been released by the US Fish and Wildlife Service for the calendar year 2006, and trout remains fifth behind them padded numbers enjoyed by our warmwater brethren.

Brownliners fall under the “Another Type of Freshwater Fish” – as those summer interns didn’t dare get close enough to learn what we were really fishing for … or with … and with our lack of social graces, a big stack of clean white paper at the trailhead has a more fundamental use than make-work for the eggheads in statistics lab.

… thankfully there’s 12% less of us.

the number of freshwater and trout anglers 16 years and older in the U.S. has decreased. The number of trout anglers has decreased from around 9 million anglers in 1996 to 6.8 million in 2006. Diminished trout populations due to whirling disease and habitat destruction may have contributed to some of the decline in angler participation. As for freshwater anglers, their numbers have declined from 29 million anglers in 1996 to 25 million in 2006. Between 2001 and 2006 participation declined by 3 million freshwater anglers.

troutbyregion

Not surprising was the vast surge of anglers flocking to coarse fishing. Likely a response to the ravenous hordes of Asian Carp headed deep into the interior, fish fleeing the Gulf of Mexico – figuring a sewer drain in Sheboygan cleaner, and the fact that the Roughfisher had a couple of offspring during the census  …

Roughfisher skews things a bit

Gender
Fishing continues to be a male dominated sport. Females make up a quarter (25 percent) of all freshwater anglers and even fewer trout anglers (21 percent). This is disproportionately lower than the U.S. population where women are the majority at 52 percent (Table 7).
While many women 16 years of age and older participated in freshwater fishing (6.3 million), this comprised only five percent of the female population in the U.S.

Not to worry lads, the continual bikini posts from the likes of Trout Underground and Moldy Chum represent the vast uncounted population of single, buxom women – less than sixteen years old …

… and if you do anything but look, it’s the last trout you’ll see that’s not wearing trousers.

Age
Trout fishing is popular at any age (16 years or older). At least 21 percent of freshwater anglers in every age category fished for trout (Table 8). However, about half of all trout anglers (49 percent) are between the ages of 35 to 54 years old.

Which is why your extreme angling e-zine whose every page dripped garishly with energy drink ads – vanished. Trout fishing is what guys do when they lack the reflexes for anything else – there to wax poetic until the Grim Reaper baits the hook …

Though trout fishing is predominately made up of a middle-aged generation, the trend is moving toward older participants.

Which is why those music video posts are wasted space. You’re thinking Johnny Larnyx and the Expectorants, and your audience is keen for Sinatra, Noob.

Overall, trout anglers tend to complete more years of education than freshwater anglers and the U.S. population.

They’re smart and discerning, yet claim their quarry smarter – making them humble too.

Twenty-four percent of trout angler households earned more than $100,000, compared with only 17 percent of households in the U.S.

I’ll have to add an asterisk to the above. Twenty-four percent (24%) earned more than $100,000 per year, most were spending in excess of $200,000 per year, went late on their house payment – tapped their 401K, and realized their house was underwater to the tune of $250,000.

As they’re smarter and hold more advanced degrees, most “jinglemailed” the house keys back to their mortgage broker, and are now living with Mom & Dad, complaining about the quality of the local Frappachino …

… collecting unemployment and fishing more often, the bastards.

More importantly we find the valuation in net economic benefit of a trout stream, and the arcane methodology by which pollution of same and the disappearance of all life results in a pittance fine and slap on the wrist for industry …

The difference between what the trout angler is willing to pay and what is actually paid is net economic value. Therefore, for this example, the net economic value is $175 [(($55–$20) ×10÷2) (triangle bcd in Figure 6)] and angler expenditures are $200 [($20×10) (rectangle abde in Figure 6)]. Thus, the trout anglers’ total willingness to pay ($375) is composed of net economic value ($175) and total expenditures ($200).

Net economic value is simply total willingness to pay minus expenditures. The relationship between net economic value and expenditures is the basis for asserting that net economic value is the appropriate measure of the benefit an individual derives from participation in an activity and that expenditures are not the appropriate benefit measure.

Expenditures are out-of-pocket expenses on items an angler purchases in order to fish. The remaining value, net willingness to pay (net economic value), is the economic measure of an individual’s satisfaction after all costs of participation have been paid. Summing the net economic values of all individuals who participate in an activity derives the value to society. For example, assume that there are 100 trout anglers who fish at a particular stream and all have demand curves identical to that of our typical trout angler presented in Figure 6. The total value of this stream to society is $17,500 [$175 × 100].

… despite a home on the banks of the now dead same creek being worth $6.5 million.

At $20 Billion for the entire Gulf of Mexico – I’m thinking those government negotiators was tough as nails.

The net economic values can be used to evaluate management actions that would have an impact on trout fishing. For example, the impact of dam construction, dam removal, and other human activities along trout streams can affect trout angler participation rates. Also, dams can negatively influence trout fishing by creating physical barriers to spawning areas or increasing water temperatures. Let’s assume that in 2006 the state of Maine proposed a policy action to remove an old dam from a trout stream to improve its water quality to blue ribbon status. If a fishery manager knows the number of days Maine residents go trout fishing on a blue ribbon trout stream with no dams over the whole season, 1,000 days for example, it is possible to develop an estimate of the fishery gains from the dam removal. This estimate is accomplished by multiplying the net economic value per fishing day ($30 from Table 13) by the days of participation, resulting in $30,000 ($30 x 1,000). If the fishery manager had data on the number of in-state and out-of-state anglers then the numbers could be adjusted to reflect their appropriate values.

… except it takes $4.5 million to remove the old dam, restock the native plants and historic populations of fish, another $60,000 because some well meaning angler likes Rainbows more than native Brookies, and you’ll get a net return on the investment in about 135 years.

Which is why dams aren’t being wrenched from their foundations by a gleeful mob of contractors.

Tags: Fish and Wildlife Service, trout angling statistics, fly fishing humor, damn lies and statistics, trout, trout fishing, Jinglemail, Sinatra

Fly fishing responsible for the decline in our collective morals

splitshot Last week’s announcement of the First National Fly Fishing competition sponsored by Marshall University just didn’t sit right with me. I may favor competition and most of you don’t, I was fixating on the larger issue – and couldn’t help wonder whether this may be the root cause of those shady hedge fund managers we’ve been cursing the last couple of years…

School spirit is one thing, but the first lesson an angler learns is never guarantee anything. If you were successful yesterday at the same spot, don’t breathe a word for fear of jinxing today’s trip.

Hall is confident of a victory for the Marshall team, which will display Marshall logos on a banner and their fly fishing apparel throughout the tournament. “My partner has the secret fly to win the tournament,” Hall said, laughing.

Noob.

A nurse, a burnout guide, and a television host as former alumni, giving all those impressionable youngsters a taste of what’s in store once they pay off an insurmountable debt burden. Role models should be a couple of golf pro’s and a Vice President or two – not the fellow chatting up Ms. Maraschino about an E-ticket ride to the Bold & the Beautiful.

Is this the root of all our recent evils?

When I hear some fellow guaranteeing to win one for the Gipper – replete with school banner and alumnus film crew, I keep thinking I’ll see split shot roll out of something’s gullet – or worse.

Is this the classic Seduction of the Innocent, where well groomed youngsters watch attentively while a couple of over-the-hill professors bend the rules a bit (strictly for recruitment purposes), brush the telltale BB shot off the scales while the glee club leads the group in another cheer, the result another class of hedge fund managers intent on gutting sheep?

“This is about bringing exposure to Marshall University …  My partner and I will do our best to represent Marshall University and everyone associated with it. I personally can’t wait to get started.”

No mention of whether it’s catch and release, or whether anyone will pause to admire Momma Nature at all, it may be the laboratory segment of BloodSport 101, so you’ve got the jargon to network with the Cheese at Goldman Sachs.

… then again, it could be completely legitimate – and Marshall is another of a long line of “party” schools, where your offspring suddenly develop a bent for animal husbandry of the human kind and learn to grow hops.

“We want to let people know that they can get a great education at Marshall University and enjoy some great fly fishing just a few hours away,” Hall said.

… and if I’m late to class and endure the stony silence of the economics professor, will my stuttered claim of “sudden emergence of March Browns” grant leniency? Fly fishing is “in for a penny, in for a pound” and a national endorsement should carry some long term commitment.

Fly fishermen aren’t the best role models – what with dissembling, the outright lies, and withholding of pertinent details, all the really important skills necessary to deflect a group of angry senators and their righteous populist inquiry.

Tags: Marshall University, fly fishing competition, hedge fund managers, seduction of the innocent, BB shot, blood sport, fly fishing humor

I don’t remember my vest being wet

The snarling black lab with the faded red kerchief reminds me it’s his garbage can – and despite my wish to pass, he’s unwilling to share either contents or the path.

Fishing of late has become a series of indignities; rain when there shouldn’t be any, sun when there shouldn’t be any, and mean arsed black Labradors who beat me to the river just to harsh my mellow.

I can’t wade anywhere near where I fished last year, the water being too high and too cold, and can’t cast far enough – now that the river’s twice as wide. Yet I still wade out with high hopes and practice something or fiddle with flies, and after a couple hours stride back to the truck contented.

American River flows

Make that three times as wide, as of today’s graph…

aircraftfabric I had an opportunity to confirm model plane fabric is tough as nails. Thirty minutes of abuse on a seven weight head didn’t even scratch the carapace.

… and despite being hung up on rocks a half dozen times, that point is still sharp enough to make any gamefish blanch …

Tags: American River, fly fishing for shad, cubic feet per second, terra firma, wino dog

Who’ll return to the depths nursing something tender

It’s akin to the writer’s voice, how each fisherman develops a comfortable and unique cast via fishing experience, muscle memory and hook avoidance.

Dawn's early light

That cast lasts him forty years, before he’s forced to modify it.

The start of each season is a reminder of known foibles, the strains on ligaments and soft tissue, and the subtle modifications of form necessary to throw the fly all day. Brute force is enough when young, but that resilience disappears over time.

I started work on modifications last year. I’d been gripping the cork too tightly, using too many false casts and heavy handed roll casts to lift the  head out of the current, simple things I’d merely muscled through that result in a litany of aches that required repair during the following work week.

On a seasonal fishery lessons never start where we left off, nine months pass and we have to reawaken all our past sins – and like other athletes, get a little tone and a few tender spots to remind us why we’re tinkering with something we think isn’t broken.

My river was too high, the water too cold, and fish or no, an hour or two of casting practice would allow me to start regaining last season’s form and start the toning process that would take the soft out of middle aged ligaments and connective tissue.

Pulling a couple extra feet of head into the guides had worked wonders on the pre-cast thrashing, and a Full Wells grip had replaced the cigar that had me choking life out of the cork grip – and destroying mine in the process.

I was working the stiff arm tendency, running line being slick and wet, and throwing a head with too much of it out of the guides invokes the power-stealing hinge – where you know the cast is falling apart and muscle the release just to get that sharp hook away from your ear and airborne.

Using strength in any form is a Band-Aid for some other ill. I need to focus on less effort and better timing.

… and you’ll get to that eventually, after you untangle 200 feet of small-arbor Amnesia you forgot to stretch, replace the chewed leader you didn’t check the night prior, and forgetting you’re waist deep in water – pulling the double haul vertical, just to see how cold – cold can get. All those things we don’t get to practice at the club or on the lawn – before taking a fast rod in Harm’s way.

An hour later the running line was starting to behave and the fingers had remembered how to thread sixty feet of running line so the current had less to play with. I’m standing in dawn’s chill wondering why painful can be so much damn fun.

There’s a parallel in fly tying. After a couple of decades we start feeling skilled and attempt the most torturous and exacting flies, when we’d be better served getting the lumps out of our dubbed bodies.

Elegance is a single roll cast to surface the line, a single pull to force the line into the air and behind, and a single forward motion that releases the fishing cast. I don’t need distance or line speed, I just need to transfer the work to the rod and away from my arm.

I could do that all day, and after throwing heads for 30 years, I’m focused on removing the lumps – so I can fling them another 30.

The venue may have been different but I couldn’t help wonder how many others were massaging something tender back at the campsite, while repeating a similar promise this weekend.

… and while I’m smiling at the thought, there was a pause where none belonged. Some big hen comes clean out of the water with a Pink Pee Wee wedged in her upper lip, and while I’m gazing in disbelief – the reel handle starts barking every knuckle available reminding me of everything else lawn casting can’t provide.

Everything I had remembered on the pre-trip ritual worked flawlessly, the freshly oiled reel, the re-tied knots from last season – and as the scream of the reel brought sleepy homeowners out to watch from their deck – there to witness a grinning angler attached to a purple and silver herring – the fish went airborne, and the fly came out cleanly.

It’s reinforcement of that which is unspoken, if you can brave the elements and chuck fluff all day – there’s a willing accomplice somewheres …

… who’ll return to the depths nursing something tender.

Tags: fly fishing, American Shad, shooting head, Pink Pee Wee, practice makes perfect

The Top 10 Undiscovered Secrets of Tiger Woods

Forbes Magazine has the golfing community in an uproar after it dared  publish the Top 10 PGA holes that contain Monster Bass. I was a bit perplexed at the ferocious response by golf’s governing entity, as almost every major publication has already exposed Tiger’s favorite 10 holes …

… and as “Chee-tah” doesn’t play public courses it’s a surefire course lifelist for them as ply both crafts.

… he usually returns to the hole in the late afternoon, when most golfers have left the course. He slings casts right from the green. "There are some huge bass in that pond," he says. And there’s plenty of room for your backcast.

There’ll be plenty of incensed blue bloods with gendarmes at their beck and call, but it would make a hell of an alternative fly fishing video, what with the face paint, tallboys, and enraged patrons wearing plaid.

The Blue Monster

– via Forbes Magazine (click on the above to see the Top 10)

Baird is part of an unofficial PGA Tour fishing club, a group of players that brings along both rods and clubs to tournaments. The water hazards they avoid during competitive rounds? With rod in hand, those ponds and creeks transform into fishing sweet spots. Many courses in the country frown upon fishing the hazards, but look the other way when it comes to Tour pros. At Sawgrass, only Tour players are allowed to fish.

… legally, perhaps. But the half dozen lawsuits filed by Trout Unlimited, whose board members actually want to play there, but aren’t rich enough, will blaze the trail for the rest of us more pedestrian fishermen.

We’ll be quiet as church mice, and apologize profusely if some predatory heavy-gutted Largemouth decides to tail walk through the lilies and fetch both our fly and that errant tee shot.

Tags: PGA golf fishing, black bass, Tiger’s favorite 10 holes, golfing, Trout Unlimited, Tiger Woods

Before we knew everything – we knew nothing at all

A rare, quiet commentary on the sport free of the chest-pounding neo-warrior us-versus-everybody-else extremism.

Is it possible that with all our efforts to stratify “cool guys” from mere fishermen, and despite all the pressures from gear mongers and advertising, that somewhere back in our collective psyche exists a tie that binds us all forever?

You don’t have to admit anything – and can watch this short piece in the privacy of your own Fortress of Solitude, but if you’re daubing a tear at the scenery and message – you may be just like the rest of us.

Tags: Henry Harrison, fly fishing video, us-versus-everybody-else, extremism, fly fishing