Sometimes it’s more than a new license required, spend a moment to check

He ain't smiling, and that's a bad sign Just a gentle reminder to review your angling regulations, as assumption can get you sidewise with the authorities. It’s customary for January 1st to be the introduction of new angling regulations, and many states have made changes that are small, but noteworthy.

In California, new “punchcard” rules are in affect that require anglers to report on all abalone, steelhead, lobster, and in the Klamath watershed, salmon that are caught and kept. Abalone must be tagged with the appropriate documentation when in possession, and anglers are required to carry the “punchcard” at all times.

Tags are required for a second rod in inland waterways, excluding single barbless, artificial only water.

It’ll only take a minute to get acquainted with new rules, most wildlife agencies have their new changes on the home page.

Technorati Tags: , ,

A Sailor would blanch at the string of epithets I launched

Here's three more of them It’s editorial prerogative to have “moments” – a fit of pique that prompts you to hurl a magazine across the room,  vowing never to buy another. It wasn’t the magazines fault, it was the vendor advertisement that was the source of my ire.

Two fellows in a drift boat with the appropriate wading ensemble:

WHAT YOU SAY

I don’t care how many fish I catch, it’s just great to be out here on the water.

WHAT YOU MEAN

I’ve hooked seven and you’ve only hooked one.

Once it was the sport of Earls, Dukes, and Kings – now it’s just another counting exercise followed by a reason to tailgate others on the freeway. We’ve covered the counting issue before, as has the Trout Underground, but is that all that Madison Avenue can glean from the entire experience?

I find some guy I don’t particularly care for, take him out far enough so his Blackberry phone has no coverage, then piss on him about his skills until he slugs me?

…I probably have to work with him come Monday, so in addition to getting him burnt by the sun, not sharing the good flies, depriving him of Starbucks, and living off of Chicken Fried Steak cooked by teenagers, I am going to sum up his entire existence and find him wanting?

Pals can piss on each other with impunity, but these lads sound more like they’re dating.

Hey Mister Fatuous, obtuse, know-it-all, metrosexual, pissant – your idea of the Great Outdoors is throwing your dog’s crap over your neighbors fence, and hoping he doesn’t notice. You understand NOTHING, and a majestic panorama, an arrowhead, a glimpse of a real bear, a sunset, a solitary quail call, none of this will you comprehend, none will give cause for thought or pause your march back to your BMW.

I bet you put Ketchup on Steak.

…well, we covered the guy that thought up the ad, now about them guys in the boat…

Technorati Tags:

It’s OK you didn’t miss a thing

In stream structure, the biggest fish prefer GM products thoughFor them as resolved to do more fishing in 2008, you were slow getting out of the sack and I beat you to it. You missed nothing, although it was reminiscent of a scene from “I am Legend.”

Thick layer of frost on the ground at 0600, colder than blazes (for California) and I had to let the windshield defrost enough to be function before hitting the road. No humans on the road, nothing stirring at all, just the way I like it.

Another fishless prototype I had two dozen experimental flies to test on fish, mostly copper wire creations, as I had received 18000 feet of 36 gauge Ultrawire from an electronics supply house. I always liked the “Copper John” fly, and made up some caddis and mayfly imitations using mostly copper wire.

I’m testing a theory, actually just confirming some laziness on my part. Rather than make a “bead head” version of a traditional pattern, I wanted to see the aerodynamic and fishing qualities of using a traditional pattern and stringing the bead on the leader – not attaching it to the fly at all.

Seems silly to have to tie the same flies twice, once with the bead, once without – and being a minimalist (lazy) by nature, it seemed like a hell of an idea.

He figured the Mice may be slower after so much celebratingI hadn’t been downstream in a couple months, and figured my battle with “Old Nondescript” could wait another week, there was still about 2 miles of river I hadn’t seen between my access point and another further down.

Nothing stirring, no fish activity of any kind. I could see an occasional fish huddled on the bottom unmoving, so I flung copper stuff at branches and headed south.

I’ll spare you the picture of the dead goat in the middle of the river, and the floating tabby cat (who had seen better days), it just served to remind me how “below the bridge” is the debris field for everything that doesn’t sell on Ebay.

The “strung bead” theory works fine, it casts just like a beaded fly, seems to behave well underwater, so that was a happy conclusion to the physics portion. I still hadn’t raised a fish so my copper flies were still in “beta.”

I covered the two miles down to the other gravel elevator with nary a nibble. The fish were asleep and I started heading North to the car. I found a couple of nice pools and saw nothing in them, so I took the hint.

Outside of “Corky” the floating feline, the only live critter was a monstrous owl that sat in the tree above me, giving me that vaguely disinterested look as it puffed itself into a round ball. It was too cold for him as well.

Technorati Tags: , , ,

Hell, we tried lawyers a dozen times, maybe a fisherman would bring some marketable skills

It ended his election, he should've driven a Bass boat It’s officially an election year, and we’re about to be courted by all the candidates and their apparatchik. Each campaign has a smartly dressed fellow with a overly stuffed briefcase methodically checking off the the important voting blocks each candidate has to acknowledge.

We’ve seen it in prior elections; a baseball cap doffed in Iowa, a tank driven in Michigan, a Hummer valet parked in California – each photo opportunity carefully crafted to appeal to some minute segment of society, “Vote for me, ’cause I’m like you..”

Fishermen are one of those demographics that will get addressed later in the year, the larger blocks of voters get first “dibs.” The question for us is “exactly what does a fisherman president bring, that a non fisherman wouldn’t?”

I’m not talking about the obvious stuff, the Right to Arm Bears, or any of the controversial nonsense, I’m talking about character.

I’ve fished with most socio-economic levels, professions, and all four sexes, so I was mentally comparing common traits, a good president doesn’t need to be a fisherman, but there are some innate talents anglers have that’d be beneficial for a senior statesman.

Whenever they renegotiate the next SALT treaty, I’d rather have a fisherman at the table, as he can mention that we’ve got a space based death ray, and can do it with a straight face. Fishermen don’t see a small exaggeration as lying, and that’ll come in real handy.

The Republicans appear to be beating each other over the head with the immigration issue, a fisherman president would solve that in a fortnight, as over-limit may be embarrassing but it’s still a good thing.

Vote I’m thinking the federal deficit would still be an issue, especially if they stock the Executive washroom with Orvis catalogs, and the Iraqi conflict would be settled in a week, as there isn’t any gamefish worth the continued expenditure.

It would be gratifying to have a “rip snorter” president akin to Teddy Roosevelt, them powderpuffs that inhabit the Beltway would have to lobby whilst swatting mosquitos, a welcome change from conducting state business in a Minneapolis washroom.

But don’t expect to see any trout fishermen, “America’s Fish” is now the Largemouth Bass, so we’ll likely see more wake then wading, it’ll play well with them Southern fellows, and we’ll have to determine who can tie a clinch knot via television special.

Technorati Tags: , , ,

I’m talking America’s Fly, not the unzipped kind

A couple of presidents and a beer I never had a problem with the Dallas Cowboy’s until someone started calling them “America’s Team,” then I started to dislike them. While loyal to their cheerleaders, it wasn’t enough to remain impartial.

Now we get “America’s Fish” the Largemouth Bass. I always thought the largemouth was an entertaining and noble fish, now I’m going to be forced to hate them too. I’m assuming that since the Feds posted the statistics on fishing, some canny fellow has determined that we spend more money on Bass fishing, therefore it’s everyone’s favorite.

Good idea, but a poor application of statistics. That would make the Toyota Camry, “America’s Car” and Microsoft Windows, “America’s Most Reviled Operating System.”

I think the problem lies when someone tries to think for me, I get my hackles up and start dragging my feet, the object then takes on a sinister form,  a conformist’s merit badge.

But that does beg the question, despite your involuntary shudder, is there an “America’s Fly ?” Based on the traditional Japanese “bubble pack” assortment it would have to be the Coachman, Yellow Sally, or the Parmachene Belle. Not a bad lot, but methinks it short of the mark.

It’s hard enough thinking like me, so I won’t think for you. If I was guessing, it would likely be an Adams. Steeped in nobility; two presidents, a biblical figure, and a pretty fair beer shares the name, not a bad choice.

Technorati Tags: , ,

Dogs living with Cats, and trout are pests

Things have come full circle We’ve come full circle now, and anglers around Melbourne are incensed that trout are about to be purged from Australian waters.

The popular game fish has been declared an alien species and put on a hit-list for eradication in a move that has outraged anglers.

Trout would be culled from major Victorian rivers such as the Murray, Goulburn and Yarra, despite the Brumby Government pouring about 400,000 trout into our waterways each year.

Native fish recovery means the trout are interlopers and will be removed from the watershed. An interesting quandary, as we’ve studied all the things necessary to promote trout habitat, now we’ll see how resilient the species is when systematically purged.

Trout were introduced in Australia in the 1870’s, similar well meaning anglers did likewise in California and other parts of the US, pushing the native trout out of most of the watershed.

Is this the start of something larger? Genetic manipulation of crops and animals have been front page news for some time, will this be championed by the eco-radicals into something bigger, a return to historical species and populations, despite many of the original strains extinct or hybridized?

Nothing surprises me anymore.

Technorati Tags: , ,

Sorry, I’ll take my chances with the trees

The contents of one albatross stomach The grocery clerk was ill prepared for Singlebarbed repartee, he’d asked whether I wanted “paper or plastic,” and I’d responded, ” choose between a Pterodactyl or a pine tree? You pick, let the guilt be on your conscience.. ”

From now on I’ll be much gentler, he still percolates his coffee, mine has the bark on..

I’ll decimate Pine trees until something worse happens. Reading an article on the North Pacific Gyre, aided my resolve to get all my groceries in paper. Even a hardened fisherman can have a twinge of conscience as we’ve done it to ourselves. The “Gyre” is roughly the “center” of the Pacific Ocean, bounded by Asia, Australia, and North America, that serves as an airless meeting point for the coastal currents. It’s the Elephant Graveyard of Plastic, a soup of castoff consumer plastics the size of Texas.

Traditional plastics don’t degrade, they just get brittle – and over time the ocean is filled with tiny plastic fragments that linger on the surface, brightly colored bits of debris that lure birds and fish into feeding on them.

It’s pretty damn disgusting to contemplate, eyewitness accounts describe, “a half mile of Taco Bell wrappers” they had to sail through. Most of the debris is washed into the ocean via normal winter rains, it’s not simply a case of wanton garbage disposal, more of a phenomenon induced by the longevity of the material. “Every piece of plastic ever made is still here..”

Revenge of the Pterodactyl, I’ll take my chances with the Pine tree..

(YouTube video available here)

Technorati Tags: , ,

Adopting a creek may mean adopting the neighborhood

You may need to go further afield Reclamation of natural streams within the confines of Seattle has been an ongoing project for over a decade, results have been released in a report outlining many of the ills, successes, and cost of the effort.

Entitled “State of the Waters 2007,” the report outlines what you may suspect; treatment of the streams and banks can restore some of the balance of nature, but the original problems remain, runoff from city streets carrying a blend of industrial chemicals, and as the surrounding areas are completely paved, the volume of water entering the recovering waterway can scour it clean of life.

With normal rainfall, and 60% of the watershed covered in pavement, the report estimates that the water volume in the creek channel to be 4 to 5 times that of the same watershed if forested. “Bank armoring” to protect homeowners from erosion, add measurably to the problem.

Bank restoration and instream rip-rap have been part of the “restoration arsenal” for many years. Many angling clubs have yearly outings to assist state agencies in cleanup and restoration efforts. The report suggests that many in-stream issues cannot be addressed by working on the obvious stuff; trash removal, adding gravel for spawning, etc. Many issues have roots hundreds of yards from the actual watercourse.

But the creeks and lakes would never be mistaken for pristine, no matter how much time and money are invested.

It’s a subject dear to me as I fish a similar creek nearby. While it is not confined by the city, it shares many of the same issues. An interesting read, especially if your club is considering “adopting” a creek nearby.

Technorati Tags: , , ,

Nothing like a religious holiday to make a fellow ponder imponderables

Religion may have changed since I was a kid I had no idea I was in such distinguished company, the question is, which is the half that swears like a sailor?

“A U.S. survey of licensed hunters and anglers last year, commissioned by the National Wildlife Federation, found half of those polled identified themselves as evangelical Christians.”

All the fishermen I know are liars, boozers, womanizers, and would as soon abandon spouse and infants to chase the rumor of big fish, so which half am I fishing with?

I like to think that the flipped quarter sometimes lands on its edge, which explains my predilections, but if the last dozen fellows I fished with are Christian, it must’ve changed remarkable since the Lutheran brimstone of my youth.

It may be that I’m mistaking exclamation for invocation. When the guy next to me in the riffle yells, “Jesus H. Christ” – it may be a prayer to speed his reflexes,  I’m going to have to look closer next time. When the “GoddamnitToHell” wafts upstream – it may be a heathen swearing at weak tippet, or an invocation from a Christian – ensuring the fish he missed simmers for eternity.

Big fish can make any of us an evangelical, especially if they’re released prematurely. Moses might’ve parted the Red Sea accidental-like; after busting off a keeper the mighty oath parted the hair of the assembled tribes of Israel, the Red Sea, and the encroaching Egyptian army.

The Bible doesn’t mention whether Jesus was a good fisherman, I expect he spooked a lot of fish with the “walking on water” bit, sure is simpler than wading. I think I’ll go with the consensus on his skills, not because I’m currying favor – more of a professional courtesy.

I never saw much Christianity as a child, usually because I was in the corner facing the wall, and when relieved of that duty, it was to get a soap bar in the mouth. I never understood why the Lord insisted on such clean teeth, my head was underwater so I couldn’t make out the reverend’s explanation..

Technorati Tags: , , ,

What they thought you needed, how matching the hatch is so last week

Don't tell me you haven't thought about it The statistics are plain, 100 million blogs exist on the Internet with nearly 100,000 created daily, of those 95 million are read by the author and his mom.

I figured that would dominate the gift giving this year, as I’d receive 40 copies of Strunk & White’s “Elements of Style.” Lord knows I’ve earned it, butchering the English language repeatedly, violating every rule held sacred.

I dodged the bullet, a whirlwind arrival with sugar laced goodies, followed by an orgy of rending paper, squeals of glee, and then a hasty exit.

My folks have given up trying to find something fishing related for their son, they’re just thrilled he continues to hold down a job. Ma ensures all the clothes are long sleeved or warm, knowing the kid is either wet or close to peril, and I ensure she’s right.

I could tuck a couple into the top of my waders It was my brother that made the stretch this year, gifting me with the present every long suffering fisherman has contemplated but never had the courage to purchase. Correctly, he assumed rare moments exist where the fly box offers no encouragement, where the angler is completely stumped, and deception turns to anger…

Nothing like a German “Potato-Masher” hand grenade for the angler who has everything. It’s the first shortcoming I’ve seen on my Simm’s vest, no pocket designed for ordinance. I guess that means a new vest needed for next year, with my relatives there’s no telling what castoff NATO surplus is headed my way.

I don’t want to hear them giggles, likely you have a similar tale, involving; Japanese bubble-packed something-or-other, a saran wrapped fly rod complete with level floating line and reel, or a Penn Senator with a WF5F attached…

Next season if you hear some fellow downstream yell, “Fire in the Hole” – don’t think, hit the deck.

Technorati Tags: , , , ,