Thursday, December 27, 2007
The Doctor Is In
While we wait for the MN early season to start, I have gone to California to check on the West Coast chapter of the Fly Angler's Guild. With everything in fine order, I present you this offshoot of the "Great Gas Station Names" series (click on the pic for a larger view).
Friday, December 14, 2007
U.M.F.A.G Out West Report
Alright after typing out the acronym for the Upper Midwestern Fly Anglers' Guild in the title I have to say that it might be easy for me to draw offense since I did attend the illustrious U of M and well despite what I was told over the year's I'm not a...well anyway. But as Jazz Hands told me as we sat in the hot tub, "Bchubut...sometimes you have to pick your battles."
That said Jazzhands and I visited the Owens River which is named after the country music great Buck Owens. Well at least that's what Jazzhands told me.
That said Jazzhands and I visited the Owens River which is named after the country music great Buck Owens. Well at least that's what Jazzhands told me.
Overall the two days were a success with pleasant weather, beautiful scenery and a handful of fish though nothing of real size.
On the downside it was a bit crowded at times but once they saw Jazzhands $4,000 rod and awe inspiring clothing ensemble they quickly dropped to one knee, bowed their heads and whispered 'Go Pack'. Hmmm...I wonder if that had anything to do with the Lion's complete ineptitude on T-Day.
Thursday, November 15, 2007
There are NO steelhead in the Brule
Date: November 3, 2007
Location: Brule
Air temp: 40s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 0
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
TP
The last time TP and I visited the Brule, neither of us landed any steelhead. A brief tussle with a river creature, which I mistook for a steelie, had given me the hope to try my luck again. Sadly, my friends, I can tell you now, steelhead, let alone any large salmonidae, simply do not exist in the Brule.
After driving up and camping on Friday night, we woke before dawn and headed out to try to be the first on the river. Not having seen many cars parked at the motel or campsite was a good sign for a low river traffic day. Of course, someone was already at the first run we wanted to fish.
Heading upstream, we fished various familiar spots, mostly throwing small nymphs and egg patterns. After no success, we decided to head further upstream than usual. We found some nice runs above and below a bend in the stream. I fished the lower run, while TP was around the corner fishing the far bank. Not long after, I heard some hoots of what sounded like joy. Further investigating, I went upstream to find that TP had just caught a steelie. Of course, I didn't see it, and it can't possibly have occurred (though he said it was about an 18"er).
He encouraged me to take some casts into the run he had just caught his "steelie" from. I was soon tossing more no-hitters than Nolan Ryan. If there were steelhead there (which there weren't), they would have been long since spooked by my retarded casting and TP's recent battle. I decided to head back around the bend to resume my efforts. About three casts in, I hooked high into the tree behind me. Staring at the sky, trying to figure a way to get my flies back, I heard another shout.
"Fish!"
"FISH!"
I set the rod on the bank and ran up to see TP holding a thin graphite horseshoe in the air. I grabbed the net and dashed out to his location in the middle of the stream. It never jumped, but we would occasionally see flashes of something resembling a steelie. This mysterious creature darted every which way through the run, trying to use the deeper water and swifter current to make it to an undercut. That wasn't happening today. After an intense fight, there was this:
We fished for a bit more, with no success. Near the end of the day, I was back at the spot that was the culprit of my hope. While TP watched from the bank, my millionth snag of the day turned out not to be much of a snag. Something started moving on the other end in rapid fashion. Unlike most fish I've hooked at the Brule, this one did not fly out of the water when I gently pulled on the line. That being said, it also felt like it was two titmouse hairs north of that threshold. This creature as well did not surface. I kept a steady pressure on it, not wanting to horse it in, when all of a sudden, it was gone. Then, another shout rang through the forest.
"FUCK!"
As stated at the beginning of this story, there are no steelhead in the Brule.
Location: Brule
Air temp: 40s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 0
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
TP
The last time TP and I visited the Brule, neither of us landed any steelhead. A brief tussle with a river creature, which I mistook for a steelie, had given me the hope to try my luck again. Sadly, my friends, I can tell you now, steelhead, let alone any large salmonidae, simply do not exist in the Brule.
After driving up and camping on Friday night, we woke before dawn and headed out to try to be the first on the river. Not having seen many cars parked at the motel or campsite was a good sign for a low river traffic day. Of course, someone was already at the first run we wanted to fish.
Heading upstream, we fished various familiar spots, mostly throwing small nymphs and egg patterns. After no success, we decided to head further upstream than usual. We found some nice runs above and below a bend in the stream. I fished the lower run, while TP was around the corner fishing the far bank. Not long after, I heard some hoots of what sounded like joy. Further investigating, I went upstream to find that TP had just caught a steelie. Of course, I didn't see it, and it can't possibly have occurred (though he said it was about an 18"er).
He encouraged me to take some casts into the run he had just caught his "steelie" from. I was soon tossing more no-hitters than Nolan Ryan. If there were steelhead there (which there weren't), they would have been long since spooked by my retarded casting and TP's recent battle. I decided to head back around the bend to resume my efforts. About three casts in, I hooked high into the tree behind me. Staring at the sky, trying to figure a way to get my flies back, I heard another shout.
"Fish!"
"FISH!"
I set the rod on the bank and ran up to see TP holding a thin graphite horseshoe in the air. I grabbed the net and dashed out to his location in the middle of the stream. It never jumped, but we would occasionally see flashes of something resembling a steelie. This mysterious creature darted every which way through the run, trying to use the deeper water and swifter current to make it to an undercut. That wasn't happening today. After an intense fight, there was this:
We fished for a bit more, with no success. Near the end of the day, I was back at the spot that was the culprit of my hope. While TP watched from the bank, my millionth snag of the day turned out not to be much of a snag. Something started moving on the other end in rapid fashion. Unlike most fish I've hooked at the Brule, this one did not fly out of the water when I gently pulled on the line. That being said, it also felt like it was two titmouse hairs north of that threshold. This creature as well did not surface. I kept a steady pressure on it, not wanting to horse it in, when all of a sudden, it was gone. Then, another shout rang through the forest.
"FUCK!"
As stated at the beginning of this story, there are no steelhead in the Brule.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
Monsters of the Deep
Date: Oct 15, 2007
Location: p. trizzy
Air temp: low 50s, windy and Rainy
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: a few small bass
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Tim
QuickDraw
Well Tim and I headed out to the trizzy around 3 pm the weather was "cold and wet and windy". We proclaimed that the weather was officially "muskie weather". There was good feeling in the air, we could both feel it, if the muskie had to jump into the boat in order for us to catch them then dag nab it that's what they would do, this was the time and the place.
After donning our muskie gear, we headed down to to the lake, there was a moderate chop on the lake and a brisk gale blowin' through. I noted that the lake level had risen approximately 1 fathom(1 foot, fathom just sounded better in the real world 1 fathom equals 6 feet, but for purposes of this story 1 fathom equals 1 foot). we headed out to the center of the lake to set adrift whilst we set the rigging for hauling the monsters from the deep. We loaded the new sinking tip line on my reel and headed for the shelter of the cove. in short order we were casting. not a lot was going on, other than cold and wind, the fish knew something that we didn't. we set up on some long drifts, from one end of the cove to the other end of the "J-hole". after a few hours of doing this with only 1 decent bass in the boat(tim caught on a green streamer), we decided to re-rig with a trolling outfit, and hunker down. we cast our lines astern and hoped that they would come back to us in a fight. Shortly after we started the trawl my line exploded, there was a steady pull, followed by some large tugs, there was a bona fide monster on the end. I tried to play him very carefully as I could, trying not to disturb the beast. I knew there was something of size on the other end, we fought for about a minute when the Leviathan began to breach the surface. 'twas a large piker about a yard in length and he was nettled to say the least. Tim had the net at the ready, and Just when we thought that we had the better of him, he showed us his teeth and mad a turn to the deep, and liberated himself from my ensnarement.
Sometimes that's how the story ends, this is one of those times.
on the way home I picked up some chipotle, tried the carnitas for the first time, I thought they sucked, next time I'm sticking with the chicken.
Location: p. trizzy
Air temp: low 50s, windy and Rainy
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: a few small bass
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Tim
QuickDraw
Well Tim and I headed out to the trizzy around 3 pm the weather was "cold and wet and windy". We proclaimed that the weather was officially "muskie weather". There was good feeling in the air, we could both feel it, if the muskie had to jump into the boat in order for us to catch them then dag nab it that's what they would do, this was the time and the place.
After donning our muskie gear, we headed down to to the lake, there was a moderate chop on the lake and a brisk gale blowin' through. I noted that the lake level had risen approximately 1 fathom(1 foot, fathom just sounded better in the real world 1 fathom equals 6 feet, but for purposes of this story 1 fathom equals 1 foot). we headed out to the center of the lake to set adrift whilst we set the rigging for hauling the monsters from the deep. We loaded the new sinking tip line on my reel and headed for the shelter of the cove. in short order we were casting. not a lot was going on, other than cold and wind, the fish knew something that we didn't. we set up on some long drifts, from one end of the cove to the other end of the "J-hole". after a few hours of doing this with only 1 decent bass in the boat(tim caught on a green streamer), we decided to re-rig with a trolling outfit, and hunker down. we cast our lines astern and hoped that they would come back to us in a fight. Shortly after we started the trawl my line exploded, there was a steady pull, followed by some large tugs, there was a bona fide monster on the end. I tried to play him very carefully as I could, trying not to disturb the beast. I knew there was something of size on the other end, we fought for about a minute when the Leviathan began to breach the surface. 'twas a large piker about a yard in length and he was nettled to say the least. Tim had the net at the ready, and Just when we thought that we had the better of him, he showed us his teeth and mad a turn to the deep, and liberated himself from my ensnarement.
Sometimes that's how the story ends, this is one of those times.
on the way home I picked up some chipotle, tried the carnitas for the first time, I thought they sucked, next time I'm sticking with the chicken.
Monday, October 15, 2007
Lay down your rods, and surrender to me
Date: September 29, 2007
Location: Upper and Warwick
Air temp: 60s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: Skunk
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Scotty Mac
Fruit Booter
Xan
To close off the (Wisconsin inland) trout season, we headed out to the Upper. Scotty Mac was making a rare appearance to one of our fish socials, so we made him drive.
The second weekend into the (early) season, Scooter caught a trout. Over six months later, with only six trips in that span, that stood as Scoot's only fish of '07. Much like President Bush, he took April, July and August off and spent time at the ranch. When pressed, he would exclaim that he "sucked." What, we don't know (the Senator involved was evasive, and is now trying to change his plea). What we do know, is you aren't gonna catch many fish if you only go six times.
The Curd River had not produced in recent weeks, so we decided to hit the Upper. According to vague information (I think someone read it online) we now hold as fact, the Upper holds impressive totals of fish per mile, in the ballpark of 4,000. They are smaller on average, but sometimes quantity trumps quality, usually when you're desperate.
The overcast, drizzly skies and forecasts of God's wrath gave us hope for a haul o' trout. We got skunked.
We decided to regroup and formulate a new plan. The decision was to head to the land of aggressive bows and chubs, the Warwick. We arrived at a familiar spot, determined to put Scooter on some trout. Making the short walk to a money run, we put him in place and set him to task. He made us proud.
The view from my sunglasses:
Scooty landing another one:
After we had fished out the run, we called it a season. And on the seventh trip, Scotty Mac landed trout.
A Season In Review:
- Quickdraw learning the arts of woolly buggery
- TP showing us the use of windshield wipers as rod holders
- The Great Flood (of the Early Season)
- Shady Grove
- New spots on the Curd and Warwick, exploring the Apple and V
- Walter from the V
- Ticks
- Success with mouse patterns
- Learning the double haul
- Beaver!
- Batman!
- Beer! (Fat Tire)
- Bozeman!
- The beginnings of the Great Muskie Hunt
- The Return of the Jazz Hands
- Smallies on the fly
- Raspberries and plums
- Jazz Hands catching ocean fish... and his head
- B-Chubnut, shaking it like he never left
- The retirement of the yeti suit
- First steelie on my line
Not a bad season.
Location: Upper and Warwick
Air temp: 60s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: Skunk
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Scotty Mac
Fruit Booter
Xan
To close off the (Wisconsin inland) trout season, we headed out to the Upper. Scotty Mac was making a rare appearance to one of our fish socials, so we made him drive.
The second weekend into the (early) season, Scooter caught a trout. Over six months later, with only six trips in that span, that stood as Scoot's only fish of '07. Much like President Bush, he took April, July and August off and spent time at the ranch. When pressed, he would exclaim that he "sucked." What, we don't know (the Senator involved was evasive, and is now trying to change his plea). What we do know, is you aren't gonna catch many fish if you only go six times.
The Curd River had not produced in recent weeks, so we decided to hit the Upper. According to vague information (I think someone read it online) we now hold as fact, the Upper holds impressive totals of fish per mile, in the ballpark of 4,000. They are smaller on average, but sometimes quantity trumps quality, usually when you're desperate.
The overcast, drizzly skies and forecasts of God's wrath gave us hope for a haul o' trout. We got skunked.
We decided to regroup and formulate a new plan. The decision was to head to the land of aggressive bows and chubs, the Warwick. We arrived at a familiar spot, determined to put Scooter on some trout. Making the short walk to a money run, we put him in place and set him to task. He made us proud.
The view from my sunglasses:
Scooty landing another one:
After we had fished out the run, we called it a season. And on the seventh trip, Scotty Mac landed trout.
A Season In Review:
- Quickdraw learning the arts of woolly buggery
- TP showing us the use of windshield wipers as rod holders
- The Great Flood (of the Early Season)
- Shady Grove
- New spots on the Curd and Warwick, exploring the Apple and V
- Walter from the V
- Ticks
- Success with mouse patterns
- Learning the double haul
- Beaver!
- Batman!
- Beer! (Fat Tire)
- Bozeman!
- The beginnings of the Great Muskie Hunt
- The Return of the Jazz Hands
- Smallies on the fly
- Raspberries and plums
- Jazz Hands catching ocean fish... and his head
- B-Chubnut, shaking it like he never left
- The retirement of the yeti suit
- First steelie on my line
Not a bad season.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Sunday Morning
Date: September 23, 2007
Location: Brule
Air temp: 60s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 1 brown, and scads of very, very small steelie
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
TP
We rose just before sunset to give the Brule one last go. We arrived at a canoe landing and made our way upstream, the first people on the river. I found a run and began to fish. I pulled in small steelie after small steelie. This pattern was broken up with a decent resident brown, but that would be the last decent fish I would catch that day.
As the area filled up with fishermen, we hiked a ways downstream, fishing here and there. Once the sun was high up in the sky, the action stopped. Eventually, we called it quits and hit the long road home.
Location: Brule
Air temp: 60s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 1 brown, and scads of very, very small steelie
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
TP
We rose just before sunset to give the Brule one last go. We arrived at a canoe landing and made our way upstream, the first people on the river. I found a run and began to fish. I pulled in small steelie after small steelie. This pattern was broken up with a decent resident brown, but that would be the last decent fish I would catch that day.
As the area filled up with fishermen, we hiked a ways downstream, fishing here and there. Once the sun was high up in the sky, the action stopped. Eventually, we called it quits and hit the long road home.
Hope
Date: September 22, 2007
Location: Brule
Air temp: 60s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 1 very, very small steelie
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
TP
It is called the "River of Presidents." Probably the best known steelhead river in Wisconsin, the Brule, to me, has been known as a colder than fuck madhouse with no big fish. Sure, I've seen pictures. I've read articles. I've also used Photoshop and written blog posts.
My (two or three) previous outings to the Bois Brule have consisted of catching two inch fish, clearing glacial formations from my guides, swearing off vegetarianism through the most extreme channels, and wondering if I would ever be able to move my fingers and toes again. The highlight of my Brule resume is forming the correct hypothesis before our first and last campfire experiment, "The Effects On A Can Of Pabst Blue Ribbon When Placed In A Flame." For those who have never conducted this experiment, it explodes and sprays warm beer and ash on the two people closest to the fire.
There had been reports of lake run browns, steelies, and coho in the river. As we walked to find a spot, we came upon a couple fishermen who had a coho on a stringer. As I had never even seen a large fish, even one someone else had caught, this was a favorable omen. They are here. My next bit of good fortune came not long after, as I caught my first steelie, albeit a very small one, at the first run I fished.
We moved upstream a bit, where I began to fish a run I had been introduced to the previous year. My nymph/egg rig was heavily weighted. Snagging the bottom was becoming par for course, and when my indicator stopped suddenly, I set, thinking I had dug once more into a rock. Then, my line started to move. I started to add pressure to the rod, but whatever was on the other end of my line was staying low. It darted back and forth through the stream. I wasn't sure exactly what was going on, until it jumped out of the water.
I can only remember in vague terms its color and size. It seemed to be a blueish green trout like mass, roughly 20 inches. When it sailed into the air, it stopped its flailing, creating an odd silence, returning to the river like an Olympic high diver. I called out to TP, hoping for a net, or at least a witness to this battle. At this point, he was too far upstream to hear me, though I began to notice another fisherman and a cabin owner across the stream turn their attention towards the commotion, and a hiker on the path behind me.
I fought with the fish for a while longer, watching in awe as it shot out of the stream a few more times. Then, in my excitement, I tried to horse it in and popped the fish off.
After multiple miserable experiences, I had now gotten a taste of the Brule's treasures. As had been the case a week prior with the Lion's two game win streak, I was dealing with a new feeling in a familiar situation. I can by no means claim I have paid my dues (in fishing the Brule, not as a Lions fan), but now, after failed but valuable attempts, I was granted the gift of hope.
We fished for the rest of the day with nary a hit. It seemed that once the sun came out, the action stopped. We finished the day at the Kro Bar, losing at pull tabs and waiting for the next morning.
Just Like Old Times
Date: September 17, 2007
Location: Canyon
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 8? I don't recall exactly
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
TP
TAFKAY
B-Chubnut
To continue our celebration of B-Chubnut's visit, TAFKAY and I took the day off of work, and with TP not having classes that day, we went to the Canyon. It was an overcast morning, so things were looking up for us. We settled in for a long session, and got to work catching fish.
Chubbers entered the river first, choosing to fish a run that has been very productive for me in the past. The rest of us went downstream a bit further, where I settled into Booter's money run, and began to land fish.
After some time, Chub found us and reported the catching of many a trout. We worked our way down to the Alpha Hole and back, putting in an honest day on the stream. While the levels were a touch low, we still found fish in all of the usual places. It was a good day of fishing, and a great day away from work.
TAFKAY fishing his money runB-Chubnut and the Tokyo Drift
Date: September 15, 2007
Location: Famous Original Ray's
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: nada
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Fruit Booter
Quickdraw
Scotty Mac
TP
Xan
Tokyo Drift
B-Chubnut
When Saturday morning rolled around, I was useful for about 30 minutes. Just long enough to get some coffees, pick up Scotty Mac, and get us to the rendezvous spot (Booter's house #2). Once there, I promptly made cozy with a sleeping mat, trying to fight off the bad feelings that had come from the prior night of binge drinking on an empty stomach. Too much tequila, not enough nachos. The story of my life.
We jammed five people into Booter's Old Blue, and made our way to a gas station before leaving the cities. I dispatched the contents of my stomach, mostly apple juice and coffee (and perhaps some beer), into their lovely toilet, then slept for most of the ride to the river (waking occasionally to eat a Chicken McNugget or drink some water).
When we arrived at Famous Original Ray's, we met up with QD and TP. This was a special occasion, as we had an original F.A.G. visiting us in B-Chubnut. We were also graced with the presence of Tokyo Drift, a lousy nickname, but a fine fellow. Today, we would be seven strong, and as one could surmise, even without knowing it was a clear, sunny day with low water levels, the fishing sucked ass.
The water levels were quite low. For the first time in memory, the floor of the big pool was visible. Despite the conditions, B-chubnut was able to land a fish:
Booter claims to have caught "a bunch," but this was not witnessed by anyone. He did, however, manage to make some new friends of the beef and curd persuasion.
We finished the day at the EPB&G, with some burgers, curds and pull tabs.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Smile you sun of a B#~%@
Date: Sept. 10, 2007
Location: trizzy
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 1 muskie a few northerns and millions of bass
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
QuickDraw (spin fishing)
Naaz(non-F.A.G.)
Well it was another banner day on the Trizzy, we started out the day eating freshly microwave Lebanese meat pies that would haunt naaz' gut all day (white boy). We made our way out to the trizzy at the azz crack of 10am. It didn't take long to get rigged up and fishing.
Location: trizzy
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 1 muskie a few northerns and millions of bass
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
QuickDraw (spin fishing)
Naaz(non-F.A.G.)
Well it was another banner day on the Trizzy, we started out the day eating freshly microwave Lebanese meat pies that would haunt naaz' gut all day (white boy). We made our way out to the trizzy at the azz crack of 10am. It didn't take long to get rigged up and fishing.
We spent most of the day hitting the J-hole for the first few hours we would drift across the J-hole casting, it didn’t take long before the first fish was in the boat a nice bass. I hooked into him and pulled him in with a small fight, naas netted him and as I was dislodging the hook from his jaw he started flopping around which caused a hook to go through my index finger it hurt so much I was squealing like a little girl. Naas helped me unhook my finger and the fish, and then he took this picture.
Shortly after that we each hooked into northerns mine being a slight bit bigger than naazez. We estimated mine at 30" not a bad fish but no monster.
We then decided it was time to get our troll on. After a short time trolling I hooked into something large and since I was using my light weight rod with 8 pound test line I didn’t want to horse him in. I honestly don’t think the fish knew he was hooked until he got up to the boat the first time. Once he saw us he got pissed. For the next 10 minutes or so I was fighting the fish and he was taking out line like crazy. We ended up boating him without too much trouble.
We did see one really large muskie he was probably slightly over 40" and fat, but he didn't seem too interested in what we were throwing, just swimming through.
The rest of the day we caught millions of small bass with a few smaller muskie sightings peppered into the mix. It was a great day to be outside though.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Professor Plum
Date: August 25, 2007
Location: EP Spot
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 4 (3 brown, 1 brook)
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
Fruit Booter
Fruit Booter needs some counseling. His behavior these days is unacceptable to the F.A.G. standard. For Exhibit A, I present to you that has he not fished since Montana. Exhibit B, his thoughts are focused upon the impending grouse season. Exhibit C, his first priority once we got to the river was to pick plums for a pie (okay, he did fish a bit first, but only because I had forgotten my head lamp in the car).
At least he isn't a worm-dunker, but not much would surprise me at this point. He will give you line after line of excuses, such as hot weather, trips and real life responsibilities, but these are the words of a man in denial.
After light sources were in order, we headed downstream to the two smaller pools past the Mega Pool. Right around dusk, the fish were going ape for a hatch of some small, white bugs. While I didn't want to tie on a fly I wouldn't be able to see, I was able to get a couple of smaller fellows on a hopper, and then the powerful hopper-dropper.
Night fell and a bright moon rose. After very little action at the furthest downstream pool, we moved up to the next one. We started to get hits, but nothing was landed. Once the fish were set down there, we went to the Mega Pool.
I have never fished the Mega Pool before. I think I may have seen one rise there in the five times I've passed by it during the day. We started on the side opposite from the path with few hits. I made my way to the other side, and hooked a 17"er in the snout. Booter, who was on the other side then landed one. Just as he was releasing his fish, I got a clean hook on a thick 14" brown. This marked the first time I have ever gotten a clean hook set with a mouse pattern.
We called it not long after and got some fresh curds at a gas station before driving home. Sadly, deliberations will now begin amongst the Guild members on whether or not Booter needs an intervention. Oh, and Scotty Mac, if you're reading this, you are now on indefinite suspension for your lack of fishing.
Update: I forgot to mention, FB caught a bat. Now if someone can hook a muskrat, we'll have the trifecta.
Location: EP Spot
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 4 (3 brown, 1 brook)
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
Fruit Booter
Fruit Booter needs some counseling. His behavior these days is unacceptable to the F.A.G. standard. For Exhibit A, I present to you that has he not fished since Montana. Exhibit B, his thoughts are focused upon the impending grouse season. Exhibit C, his first priority once we got to the river was to pick plums for a pie (okay, he did fish a bit first, but only because I had forgotten my head lamp in the car).
At least he isn't a worm-dunker, but not much would surprise me at this point. He will give you line after line of excuses, such as hot weather, trips and real life responsibilities, but these are the words of a man in denial.
After light sources were in order, we headed downstream to the two smaller pools past the Mega Pool. Right around dusk, the fish were going ape for a hatch of some small, white bugs. While I didn't want to tie on a fly I wouldn't be able to see, I was able to get a couple of smaller fellows on a hopper, and then the powerful hopper-dropper.
Night fell and a bright moon rose. After very little action at the furthest downstream pool, we moved up to the next one. We started to get hits, but nothing was landed. Once the fish were set down there, we went to the Mega Pool.
I have never fished the Mega Pool before. I think I may have seen one rise there in the five times I've passed by it during the day. We started on the side opposite from the path with few hits. I made my way to the other side, and hooked a 17"er in the snout. Booter, who was on the other side then landed one. Just as he was releasing his fish, I got a clean hook on a thick 14" brown. This marked the first time I have ever gotten a clean hook set with a mouse pattern.
We called it not long after and got some fresh curds at a gas station before driving home. Sadly, deliberations will now begin amongst the Guild members on whether or not Booter needs an intervention. Oh, and Scotty Mac, if you're reading this, you are now on indefinite suspension for your lack of fishing.
Update: I forgot to mention, FB caught a bat. Now if someone can hook a muskrat, we'll have the trifecta.
How high's the water, mama?
Date: August 19, 2007
Location: Club & Mr. F
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 3 (brown)
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
On Sunday, the storm clouds were still swirling over Wisconsin. I headed off to the Club to see if the overcast weather would yield scads of fish.
I started much further downstream then normal, and started to fish the tail end of a riffle. I saw three fish rising at different points, and was able to land all three on nymphs. A good start, but that proved to be all she wrote.
I moved up and tried various areas, but not much was going on. As I heard thunder in the distance, I made my way back to the car to reassess. Not long after, the heavens unleashed a torrent of rain all around. I decided to drive east, to try another stream and hopefully wait out the brunt of the storm. Eventually, I arrived at Mr. F and took shelter under the bridge. The rain continued for a bit longer, then eased into a drizzle.
The fish were still not cooperating as I moved up and down from the stream. By the time I made my way back to the bridge, the water level had risen about a foot. Tired and wet, I called it a day.
Location: Club & Mr. F
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 3 (brown)
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
On Sunday, the storm clouds were still swirling over Wisconsin. I headed off to the Club to see if the overcast weather would yield scads of fish.
I started much further downstream then normal, and started to fish the tail end of a riffle. I saw three fish rising at different points, and was able to land all three on nymphs. A good start, but that proved to be all she wrote.
I moved up and tried various areas, but not much was going on. As I heard thunder in the distance, I made my way back to the car to reassess. Not long after, the heavens unleashed a torrent of rain all around. I decided to drive east, to try another stream and hopefully wait out the brunt of the storm. Eventually, I arrived at Mr. F and took shelter under the bridge. The rain continued for a bit longer, then eased into a drizzle.
The fish were still not cooperating as I moved up and down from the stream. By the time I made my way back to the bridge, the water level had risen about a foot. Tired and wet, I called it a day.
Produce
Date: August 18, 2007
Location: EP Spot
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 4 (2 small brookies and 2 brown)
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
QD
I apologize to my regular reader, I've been amiss in my blogging duties. Well, I have indeed been fishing, trying to enjoy the last of the season before my suicide watch begins anew.
Last week, Quickie and I went to the EP Spot on the Curd River. After a prolonged hot spell, we finally got an extended period of storms (which is still going on as of this writing). The prospect of lightening keeps the average anglers at home and the mouth-breathing worm dunkers huddled in their meth dens. The Savage Angler, a true F.A.G., is not deterred by such trivialities.
We had the river pretty much to ourselves, though the overcast skies and rainfall did not produce as we hoped. The water levels were reasonable, but still a bit shallow. The fish were spooky, though I was still able to nymph out a few fish here and there.
For the second time this season, QD's keen eye spotted wild fruit along the stream path. This time, we came across plum trees. They were quite small, about the size of a $.25 gum ball, but somewhat sweet.
Of course, meager plums would not satisfy the hunger after a long day of fishing, so we went to Shady Grove for some curds and fine grub.
Location: EP Spot
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 4 (2 small brookies and 2 brown)
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
QD
I apologize to my regular reader, I've been amiss in my blogging duties. Well, I have indeed been fishing, trying to enjoy the last of the season before my suicide watch begins anew.
Last week, Quickie and I went to the EP Spot on the Curd River. After a prolonged hot spell, we finally got an extended period of storms (which is still going on as of this writing). The prospect of lightening keeps the average anglers at home and the mouth-breathing worm dunkers huddled in their meth dens. The Savage Angler, a true F.A.G., is not deterred by such trivialities.
We had the river pretty much to ourselves, though the overcast skies and rainfall did not produce as we hoped. The water levels were reasonable, but still a bit shallow. The fish were spooky, though I was still able to nymph out a few fish here and there.
For the second time this season, QD's keen eye spotted wild fruit along the stream path. This time, we came across plum trees. They were quite small, about the size of a $.25 gum ball, but somewhat sweet.
Of course, meager plums would not satisfy the hunger after a long day of fishing, so we went to Shady Grove for some curds and fine grub.
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Date: August 10, 2007Location: WBL(Boognish Island)
Air temp: 80s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: N/A
Fish landed: 0
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Quickdraw
Jess(non FAG)
Coach McGuirk(non FAG)
Hann(non FAG)
Bela(Dog)
Another Nice night out on WBL, everytime I fish that lake I have to tell myself a few things:
1) you will most likely not catch anything, and if you do it will most likely be small.
2) try not to get pissed off by the dipshits that cruise past your boat at 30 M.P.H. there will be a lot of them and they will all be too close to your boat.
If I can remember those 2 things it's a fun trip. WBL is one of those lakes that everyone says "there's big fish in that lake", I've never really believed that because I've spent countless hours out there and only have done well out there once for crappies in the spring time, and even then all of the ones we caught were borderline keepers, nothing to write home about.
Well Friday night was no exception, We pulled up to the lake after buying live bait, at the world's shittiest bait shop, quick back story, when I went into the bait store to purchase leeches the Jackson Whites inside were arguing about something, the only acknowledgement I received as a customer was "$6.32" muttered by the fat one behind the counter. Not even eye contact. I hate that fkin place. So, getting back to the story, we rolled up to my parent's house and sat on the porch with my mom and dad for a few minutes waiting for Coach and Hann to show up. They soon got there and we were on our way.
Coach was telling me about a place he had fished before so we headed for the spot, The night was perfect, awesome weather, another batch of the Cuban sandwiches and this time I brought some Rum and Coke(Mount Gay(the official rum of the F.A.G.)). The rum went a long way to help me ignore the jackballs whizzing by the 'toon at a high rate of speed.
Before too long Hann hooked into a little Bass, which was fun. soon after that Coach hooked into a slightly larger little bass. and I got the skunk for the second night, Oh well refer to the first thing I tell myself about fishing on WBL above.
After the fishing trip we all made our way to the Kremlin for one of the biggest poker games in a while, 13 people playing at one table. Me and Xan were the only protesters about the 13 peeps at one table, but it was clear that we were the only ones interested in playing by the rules(joking)
"you're entering a world of pain"
I caught the greatest run in my poker career, I was getting full houses and straights non stop, I was probably the only one having fun at the game, oh well. Anyways I took first and was awarded $70 Jess took 3rd but had to split her $20 with Jorge because of "house rules" The hand was like this, there were 4 of us in the hand, action was on the Jor, He goes all in, Jess goes all in(has about twice the amount of chips that Jor has), action is on me, I go all in, Fruitbooter folds. I take them both out and then there is a big discussion about the prize money. The official rules of poker state:
"If multiple players go broke on the same hand, the player starting the hand with the larger amount of chips finishes in the higher place for prize money and any other award."
I tried to argue this point, but quickly gave up when I saw it wasn't gonna happen, I realised that without the rules in hand we would have to wing it, and splitting was the only logical solution. anyways, Coach and Hann took 1st and 2nd in the second game, must have been some good luck on the 'toon, that rubbed off on us.
Jess(non FAG)
Coach McGuirk(non FAG)
Hann(non FAG)
Bela(Dog)
Another Nice night out on WBL, everytime I fish that lake I have to tell myself a few things:
1) you will most likely not catch anything, and if you do it will most likely be small.
2) try not to get pissed off by the dipshits that cruise past your boat at 30 M.P.H. there will be a lot of them and they will all be too close to your boat.
If I can remember those 2 things it's a fun trip. WBL is one of those lakes that everyone says "there's big fish in that lake", I've never really believed that because I've spent countless hours out there and only have done well out there once for crappies in the spring time, and even then all of the ones we caught were borderline keepers, nothing to write home about.
Well Friday night was no exception, We pulled up to the lake after buying live bait, at the world's shittiest bait shop, quick back story, when I went into the bait store to purchase leeches the Jackson Whites inside were arguing about something, the only acknowledgement I received as a customer was "$6.32" muttered by the fat one behind the counter. Not even eye contact. I hate that fkin place. So, getting back to the story, we rolled up to my parent's house and sat on the porch with my mom and dad for a few minutes waiting for Coach and Hann to show up. They soon got there and we were on our way.
Coach was telling me about a place he had fished before so we headed for the spot, The night was perfect, awesome weather, another batch of the Cuban sandwiches and this time I brought some Rum and Coke(Mount Gay(the official rum of the F.A.G.)). The rum went a long way to help me ignore the jackballs whizzing by the 'toon at a high rate of speed.
Before too long Hann hooked into a little Bass, which was fun. soon after that Coach hooked into a slightly larger little bass. and I got the skunk for the second night, Oh well refer to the first thing I tell myself about fishing on WBL above.
After the fishing trip we all made our way to the Kremlin for one of the biggest poker games in a while, 13 people playing at one table. Me and Xan were the only protesters about the 13 peeps at one table, but it was clear that we were the only ones interested in playing by the rules(joking)
"you're entering a world of pain"I caught the greatest run in my poker career, I was getting full houses and straights non stop, I was probably the only one having fun at the game, oh well. Anyways I took first and was awarded $70 Jess took 3rd but had to split her $20 with Jorge because of "house rules" The hand was like this, there were 4 of us in the hand, action was on the Jor, He goes all in, Jess goes all in(has about twice the amount of chips that Jor has), action is on me, I go all in, Fruitbooter folds. I take them both out and then there is a big discussion about the prize money. The official rules of poker state:
"If multiple players go broke on the same hand, the player starting the hand with the larger amount of chips finishes in the higher place for prize money and any other award."
I tried to argue this point, but quickly gave up when I saw it wasn't gonna happen, I realised that without the rules in hand we would have to wing it, and splitting was the only logical solution. anyways, Coach and Hann took 1st and 2nd in the second game, must have been some good luck on the 'toon, that rubbed off on us.
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Retards of the River
Date: August 12, 2007
Location: Crawdad Hole (iRiver), Warwick
Air temp: 80s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 4 or 5 rough fish, who cares, they are all retards
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
It's been hot and humid, the rivers are low, but I was itchin' to fish, and the heat was to ease up this day. I decided to give the trout a rest and see what the smallies were up to on the iRiver. I was also curious to check out the "Crawdad Hole."
I got to the stream and started fishing a pool downstream from the CH. My streamer did not entice any fish while I was stripping it in, but an idiot panfish did nail it while it was floating next to me between casts.
I moved up and started fishing a wide section I believed to be the CH. Not much action there, so I moved up to what I later found to be the actual CH. I picked up one smallie in the hole itself, and picked up a few more retards that hit my fly while it was right next to me. Through all this, I was also able to de-cork my popper while casting. The hook was still on the line, but the popper portion was nowhere to be found.
After getting fed up with the ugly and retarded fish, I checked out a stretch of stream high up on the Warwick. I went to my usual spot and found it slow and low, and filled with chubs. Not long after I called it a day.
Location: Crawdad Hole (iRiver), Warwick
Air temp: 80s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 4 or 5 rough fish, who cares, they are all retards
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
It's been hot and humid, the rivers are low, but I was itchin' to fish, and the heat was to ease up this day. I decided to give the trout a rest and see what the smallies were up to on the iRiver. I was also curious to check out the "Crawdad Hole."
I got to the stream and started fishing a pool downstream from the CH. My streamer did not entice any fish while I was stripping it in, but an idiot panfish did nail it while it was floating next to me between casts.
I moved up and started fishing a wide section I believed to be the CH. Not much action there, so I moved up to what I later found to be the actual CH. I picked up one smallie in the hole itself, and picked up a few more retards that hit my fly while it was right next to me. Through all this, I was also able to de-cork my popper while casting. The hook was still on the line, but the popper portion was nowhere to be found.
After getting fed up with the ugly and retarded fish, I checked out a stretch of stream high up on the Warwick. I went to my usual spot and found it slow and low, and filled with chubs. Not long after I called it a day.
Friday, August 10, 2007
Date: August 9, 2007Location: WBL(Boognish Island)
Air temp: 80s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: N/A
Fish landed: 0
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Quickdraw
Jess(non FAG)
Bela(Dog)
Well tonight I took out the wife and dog for some walleye fishing on the 'toon. When we got out there we ate the picnic style dinner that Jess made for us. Grilled cuban sandwhiches, potato salad, fruit and cheesecake. man were those sandwhiches good (grilled ham, turkey, cheese, refried beans, avacado, and chipotle mustard on a grilled bun).
The conditions for 'toon fishing were perfect (other than idiots water skiing, driving their boats too close to us, but this is semi expected on WBL)there was a gentle breeze. We set up on our drift over the sunken island, depths ranged grom 32' to 14'. jess was set up with a lindy rig and I had a jig head and we both had leeches on(I know not a fly). we were getting small bites all night but nothing too solid.
The sun was getting Low and it was almost time to roll when I hear line being stripped off of Jess' reel, she was fighting the fish for about a minute when it started to come to the surface. it was a nice little northern maybe about 26" a nice eating size. anyways after the fish jumped out of the water, it took a turn twords the bottom of the lake and snapped the lindy rig. oh well sometimes that's how it goes, all in all it was a fun trip. Too bad the 'toon is comming out of the lake on monday.
Thursday, August 9, 2007
Goin' Down to the Crawdad hole
Date: August 5, 2007
Location: Crawdad hole
Air temp: 80s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: Mr. Bigstuff
Fish landed: 2(Tim) Skunk(QD)
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Quickdraw
Tim
Well Tim and I were scouting some new spots this weekend and found a gem, we had to weed through a few bad spots first though. well we started at the dam, the water looked pretty nasty and smelled pretty nasty as well. who knows it could have been a heck of a fishing spot, but looked bad and smelled bad so we mover on to greener pastures.
The next spot we went to check out was in the little town, It was a spot Xan and I had fished once before, it only held some small smallmouth and small trout last time, the water actually looked shallower this time around which is something because it was really shallow last time we went. oh well, we did not wet our lines at this spot either we decided to keep moving and search for the fabled "Crawdad hole" that we had heard so much about.
we took a short drive down the road and found the spot with no troubles. wow what a great looking spot, it's a short walk from the parking spot and the hole is about the size of the "Alpha" in the canyon. Tim informs me that he had only brought a 9 and a 10 weight rod, in anticipation of muskie. I said, "hmmm well you might catch some nice smallies" when we first reached the crawdad hole we were greeted by a lil muskie about 5' off the beach, that was soo cool to see. a bit unexpected. the fish slowly made his way to the center of the pool and thrashed at something at the surface.
we fished the hole for some time with little success, tim pulled 2 decent smallies out of the pool, I saw a ton of them in there, also i had one muskie follow looked to be somewhere around 30" in length. next time i'm going back with bigger flys.
we did some exploring downstream and found some beautiful scenery
Location: Crawdad hole
Air temp: 80s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: Mr. Bigstuff
Fish landed: 2(Tim) Skunk(QD)
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Quickdraw
Tim
Well Tim and I were scouting some new spots this weekend and found a gem, we had to weed through a few bad spots first though. well we started at the dam, the water looked pretty nasty and smelled pretty nasty as well. who knows it could have been a heck of a fishing spot, but looked bad and smelled bad so we mover on to greener pastures.
The next spot we went to check out was in the little town, It was a spot Xan and I had fished once before, it only held some small smallmouth and small trout last time, the water actually looked shallower this time around which is something because it was really shallow last time we went. oh well, we did not wet our lines at this spot either we decided to keep moving and search for the fabled "Crawdad hole" that we had heard so much about.we took a short drive down the road and found the spot with no troubles. wow what a great looking spot, it's a short walk from the parking spot and the hole is about the size of the "Alpha" in the canyon. Tim informs me that he had only brought a 9 and a 10 weight rod, in anticipation of muskie. I said, "hmmm well you might catch some nice smallies" when we first reached the crawdad hole we were greeted by a lil muskie about 5' off the beach, that was soo cool to see. a bit unexpected. the fish slowly made his way to the center of the pool and thrashed at something at the surface.
we fished the hole for some time with little success, tim pulled 2 decent smallies out of the pool, I saw a ton of them in there, also i had one muskie follow looked to be somewhere around 30" in length. next time i'm going back with bigger flys.
we did some exploring downstream and found some beautiful scenery
Beast be teased.
Date: August 3, 2007
Location: Trissel
Air temp: 70s-80s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: beast teasers
Fish landed: 2
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Quickdraw
Naaz(nonF.A.G. member)
Well the muskie action is starting to heat up. Just a perfect day to be out on a boat. after a bit of muckin' around we got settled on our routine drift over the infamous "J-hole" we saw about a half a dozen different muskies either following the lures up the the boat or porpoising in the distance. I boated 2 Northern pike one I would classify as a "snake senior" and the other one would be classified as "a good eatin' size" if one were to eat sewer trout. one of the close encounters we had was a genuine monster, most likely over 40".
It was a good day with the exception of the "a-holes" hitting golf balls at us. had to use the AK.
Location: Trissel
Air temp: 70s-80s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: beast teasers
Fish landed: 2
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Quickdraw
Naaz(nonF.A.G. member)
Well the muskie action is starting to heat up. Just a perfect day to be out on a boat. after a bit of muckin' around we got settled on our routine drift over the infamous "J-hole" we saw about a half a dozen different muskies either following the lures up the the boat or porpoising in the distance. I boated 2 Northern pike one I would classify as a "snake senior" and the other one would be classified as "a good eatin' size" if one were to eat sewer trout. one of the close encounters we had was a genuine monster, most likely over 40".
It was a good day with the exception of the "a-holes" hitting golf balls at us. had to use the AK.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
Planes, Trains and Automobiles
Date: August 6, 2007
Location: Canyon
Air temp: 70s-80s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: Caddis and a brown mayfly
Fish landed: 6
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Quickdraw
Xan
After Montana, I took a week-long break to catch up on some work and go to LA for a friend's wedding. My time in California was nice, as I also got to visit with Jazz Hands and his better half. They took me to my first ever rodeo, where I got to see cowboys and cowgirls harass cattle, and the ever delightful feat of skill, mutton bustin'.
Mutton bustin' involves taking a young child, adding protective gear, and then placing the young lad on a sheep. Both sheep and armored tyke are then set loose into the arena, where the child tries to hold on for as long as he or she can.
I've seen plenty of fun things to do with sheep, but this ranks up there. Here is a sample (note, this is not from the rodeo we attended).
The next morning, I watched Jazz catch his first fish in the surf. A noted surf guide came up and chatted with us for a while, giving us valuable tips on how to tempt the variety of fish and sharks that roam the shallows. Not long after, JH pulled in a couple perch. Though he was trying to catch the elusive Corbina (a type of sucker), he was still glad to have hooked something other than his head.
I took the red-eye home and after short light rail and bus trips, I met up with QD for some fishing. We headed to our favorite fly shop for some dollar flies. For giggles, we tried fishing the river near the shop, but soon made our way to the Canyon.
The Canyon was LOW. We worked all the way down to the Alpha Hole. I was able to pick up fish on nymphs along the way at the usual riffles and runs. We ended the day at the Beta Hole, where I landed a fish on a hopper for the first time this season. Even though I was able to land some fish, I doubt I will be going back to this stream for the rest of the season, unless they get some serious rain.
We ended the day at Red Lobster, which to my good gastronomic fortune was hosting, "Crab Crackin' Monday." Delish.
Location: Canyon
Air temp: 70s-80s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: Caddis and a brown mayfly
Fish landed: 6
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Quickdraw
Xan
After Montana, I took a week-long break to catch up on some work and go to LA for a friend's wedding. My time in California was nice, as I also got to visit with Jazz Hands and his better half. They took me to my first ever rodeo, where I got to see cowboys and cowgirls harass cattle, and the ever delightful feat of skill, mutton bustin'.
Mutton bustin' involves taking a young child, adding protective gear, and then placing the young lad on a sheep. Both sheep and armored tyke are then set loose into the arena, where the child tries to hold on for as long as he or she can.
I've seen plenty of fun things to do with sheep, but this ranks up there. Here is a sample (note, this is not from the rodeo we attended).
The next morning, I watched Jazz catch his first fish in the surf. A noted surf guide came up and chatted with us for a while, giving us valuable tips on how to tempt the variety of fish and sharks that roam the shallows. Not long after, JH pulled in a couple perch. Though he was trying to catch the elusive Corbina (a type of sucker), he was still glad to have hooked something other than his head.
I took the red-eye home and after short light rail and bus trips, I met up with QD for some fishing. We headed to our favorite fly shop for some dollar flies. For giggles, we tried fishing the river near the shop, but soon made our way to the Canyon.
The Canyon was LOW. We worked all the way down to the Alpha Hole. I was able to pick up fish on nymphs along the way at the usual riffles and runs. We ended the day at the Beta Hole, where I landed a fish on a hopper for the first time this season. Even though I was able to land some fish, I doubt I will be going back to this stream for the rest of the season, unless they get some serious rain.
We ended the day at Red Lobster, which to my good gastronomic fortune was hosting, "Crab Crackin' Monday." Delish.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Oh yeah, we went to Montana...
Here it is:
Day 1: Nobody Puts Baby In A Corner
Date: July 26, 2007
Location: Gallatin
Air temp: 80s-90s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 3
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Quickdraw
Xan
After a slight delay, QD and I landed in Bozeman to begin our adventure. We had a number of hours to kill before Jazz Hands and Booter were to land, so we went fishing.
I was able to get us to a spot Jazz and I had fished and camped at last year on the Gallatin. Here, the Gal is split into two streams, one slower channel and a faster one with a huge hole.
Quickdraw introduced himself to a double digit haul of MT trout. His inaugural MT experience was slaying the beasts, dead drifting a Bitch Creek and then a bugger. I was able to pick up a few after much effort nymphing.
We departed for some food and came back to a spot Booter and I had fished. Our short time on the river flew by as we then had to depart to pick up Jazz Hands, and then Fruit Booter. Soon, the F.A.G.s were all assembled, and we cuddled up in a fancy, old school inn. It was an impressive, old structure, straight out of Booter's favorite movie, Dirty Dancing.
Highlights of the day:
- QD slaying them
- QD pouring table salt on the shuffle puck table, fucking it up good
Day 2: I Can't Believe I Ate the Whole Thing
Date: July 27, 2007
Location: Madison
Air temp: 80s-90s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 3
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Quickdraw
Jazz Hands
Fruit Booter
Xan
After a good night of sleep and dog fighting jokes, we arrived at the Madison to fish (go figure) before checking into our next inn. Please enjoy very much this eye candy.
Highlights of the day:
- 1 celebrity sighting (Mr. Bill Devane on a drift boat)
- Fruit becoming part of local lore by inhaling a Den burger (locals were actually speaking of this the next day at the Den Bar)
Day 3: $3 Dolla, Make Ya Holla
Date: July 28, 2007
Location: Madison
Air temp: 80s-90s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 4
There is only one game in town for breakfast, and it was good.
We hit $3 Dollar to negotiate the boulders in the search of pigs. My nymphing thus far had been a disaster of unrealized drag and piddly fish. After a pep talk by Boot, I was able to start correcting my unwise ways and get some action. As I was too busy fishing to take many pictures, I offer you this photo of Boot on a rock.
Afterwards, we night fished by our lodging. The nice lady that ran the place had told us of the big browns that cruise the side channels at night. We had found two such channels and I was able to pull a couple nice fish with a Royal Wulff in the slow water.
Highlights of the day:
- 1 celebrity sighting (Mr. Bill Devane, looking at Booter and saying, "Doppler Radar!"
- Actually being able to see my dry fly on the water (and catching fish with it)
Day 4: They Mostly Come At Night, Mostly
Date: July 29, 2007
Location: Madison
Air temp: 80s-90s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 6+?
We started the morning at a new spot near $3. I guess we didn't hike enough cause that spot sucked.
After breakfast, we decided to hit a spot near a popular boat launch. The water up from the launch was quite wade-able. A brief rain came down, and soon I was to have the fight of my trip (aside from the fistfight with Booter over him stealing my whitefish. What a dick). The weather brought strikes, and a 14" bow that I battled for what seemed like 10 minutes, as we ran up, down and across the river. My nymphing and weighting was finally starting to produce.
After din, and getting the shit scared out of me by an air horn at the Happy Hour Bar (I have a sticker to show for it), we hit another new spot. This time, we were between the lakes. If you want to catch some sweet whitefish, fish here.
I found Booter after he had wandered off into the woods with a whitey (fish).
We headed back to the lodge for some more night fishing on the channels. Nymphs, the Wulff and a bugger all brought fish to my hand. If you were wondering if we actually caught any fish, I offer you proof. This was caught by Jazzy on his second ever cast of a mouse pattern.
Highlights of the day:
- The chick working the gas station
- Jazzy's mouse pig!
Day 5: The Pool, the Rocks & Whitefish Alley
Date: July 30, 2007
Location: Gallatin
Air temp: 80s-90s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 3
Before boarding our flights, we hit the Gal for one final F.A.G. rod session. Once again, Quick crushed them. Jazz was having fun fishing the Munny Hole. I fed the whiteys in Whitefish Alley, while Boot ran around fishing in other people's spots.
When the clock signaled the end of the game, Fruiter tossed rocks into the Munny Hole, to the great pleasure of Jazzer. Jazz drove us to the airport, and the Upper Midwest F.A.G.s flew home. Jazz fished for a bit more, but he'll have to tell you that story.
Highlights of the day:
- QD slaying them
- Jazzy and his Munny Hole
Day 1: Nobody Puts Baby In A Corner
Date: July 26, 2007
Location: Gallatin
Air temp: 80s-90s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 3
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Quickdraw
Xan
After a slight delay, QD and I landed in Bozeman to begin our adventure. We had a number of hours to kill before Jazz Hands and Booter were to land, so we went fishing.
I was able to get us to a spot Jazz and I had fished and camped at last year on the Gallatin. Here, the Gal is split into two streams, one slower channel and a faster one with a huge hole.
Quickdraw introduced himself to a double digit haul of MT trout. His inaugural MT experience was slaying the beasts, dead drifting a Bitch Creek and then a bugger. I was able to pick up a few after much effort nymphing.
We departed for some food and came back to a spot Booter and I had fished. Our short time on the river flew by as we then had to depart to pick up Jazz Hands, and then Fruit Booter. Soon, the F.A.G.s were all assembled, and we cuddled up in a fancy, old school inn. It was an impressive, old structure, straight out of Booter's favorite movie, Dirty Dancing.
Highlights of the day:
- QD slaying them
- QD pouring table salt on the shuffle puck table, fucking it up good
Day 2: I Can't Believe I Ate the Whole Thing
Date: July 27, 2007
Location: Madison
Air temp: 80s-90s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 3
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Quickdraw
Jazz Hands
Fruit Booter
Xan
After a good night of sleep and dog fighting jokes, we arrived at the Madison to fish (go figure) before checking into our next inn. Please enjoy very much this eye candy.
Highlights of the day:
- 1 celebrity sighting (Mr. Bill Devane on a drift boat)
- Fruit becoming part of local lore by inhaling a Den burger (locals were actually speaking of this the next day at the Den Bar)
Day 3: $3 Dolla, Make Ya Holla
Date: July 28, 2007
Location: Madison
Air temp: 80s-90s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 4
There is only one game in town for breakfast, and it was good.
We hit $3 Dollar to negotiate the boulders in the search of pigs. My nymphing thus far had been a disaster of unrealized drag and piddly fish. After a pep talk by Boot, I was able to start correcting my unwise ways and get some action. As I was too busy fishing to take many pictures, I offer you this photo of Boot on a rock.
Afterwards, we night fished by our lodging. The nice lady that ran the place had told us of the big browns that cruise the side channels at night. We had found two such channels and I was able to pull a couple nice fish with a Royal Wulff in the slow water.
Highlights of the day:
- 1 celebrity sighting (Mr. Bill Devane, looking at Booter and saying, "Doppler Radar!"
- Actually being able to see my dry fly on the water (and catching fish with it)
Day 4: They Mostly Come At Night, Mostly
Date: July 29, 2007
Location: Madison
Air temp: 80s-90s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 6+?
We started the morning at a new spot near $3. I guess we didn't hike enough cause that spot sucked.
After breakfast, we decided to hit a spot near a popular boat launch. The water up from the launch was quite wade-able. A brief rain came down, and soon I was to have the fight of my trip (aside from the fistfight with Booter over him stealing my whitefish. What a dick). The weather brought strikes, and a 14" bow that I battled for what seemed like 10 minutes, as we ran up, down and across the river. My nymphing and weighting was finally starting to produce.
After din, and getting the shit scared out of me by an air horn at the Happy Hour Bar (I have a sticker to show for it), we hit another new spot. This time, we were between the lakes. If you want to catch some sweet whitefish, fish here.
I found Booter after he had wandered off into the woods with a whitey (fish).
We headed back to the lodge for some more night fishing on the channels. Nymphs, the Wulff and a bugger all brought fish to my hand. If you were wondering if we actually caught any fish, I offer you proof. This was caught by Jazzy on his second ever cast of a mouse pattern.
Highlights of the day:
- The chick working the gas station
- Jazzy's mouse pig!
Day 5: The Pool, the Rocks & Whitefish Alley
Date: July 30, 2007
Location: Gallatin
Air temp: 80s-90s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: 3
Before boarding our flights, we hit the Gal for one final F.A.G. rod session. Once again, Quick crushed them. Jazz was having fun fishing the Munny Hole. I fed the whiteys in Whitefish Alley, while Boot ran around fishing in other people's spots.
When the clock signaled the end of the game, Fruiter tossed rocks into the Munny Hole, to the great pleasure of Jazzer. Jazz drove us to the airport, and the Upper Midwest F.A.G.s flew home. Jazz fished for a bit more, but he'll have to tell you that story.
Highlights of the day:
- QD slaying them
- Jazzy and his Munny Hole
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Night Moves
Date: July 20, 2007
Location: Eagle, The Great Lawn & Bridge
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: too dark to see
Fish landed: skunk
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Booter
Xan
TP
I admit, I like Bob Seger. I wouldn't call it a guilty pleasure (like my secret glee of hearing Bobby Brown's "Don't Be Cruel," or some Hall & Oates), and I only have his greatest hits album, but I will go on record saying he has some fine tracks.
In our email exchanges planning out this night fishing session, I invoked a few lines of his seminal work, which serves as the title of this post. As TP was getting ready to leave work that day, whose raspy, heartland voice came on over the PA? If you guessed the seminal Michigander, Throb Seger, singing "Night Moves" no less, you get a cookie.
As we drove to the stream, we discussed the significance of this coincidence. Was it an omen? And then, it came, like a light from the heavens. "Turn the Page" burst out from Booter's radio. We had been thrice blessed by Ann Arbor's favorite son.
This was our sign.
It turned out that the fishing fucking sucked, so Bob can go to hell.
We started at Eagle to once again rain mice over the boulder field. I once again managed to foul hook a brown, while TP and Boot caught a few, though nothing big. The fierce strikes and loud splashes were curiously absent this night.
Once we gave up on the spot, we drove to the where TP and I had fished once in May and tested the waters near the bridge. Nada. We then made the short jaunt to the "Bridge," where the hits picked up, especially at Quickdraw's favorite run, but nothing of size was taken.
Next time I'll quote Kid Rock.
Location: Eagle, The Great Lawn & Bridge
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: too dark to see
Fish landed: skunk
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Booter
Xan
TP
I admit, I like Bob Seger. I wouldn't call it a guilty pleasure (like my secret glee of hearing Bobby Brown's "Don't Be Cruel," or some Hall & Oates), and I only have his greatest hits album, but I will go on record saying he has some fine tracks.
In our email exchanges planning out this night fishing session, I invoked a few lines of his seminal work, which serves as the title of this post. As TP was getting ready to leave work that day, whose raspy, heartland voice came on over the PA? If you guessed the seminal Michigander, Throb Seger, singing "Night Moves" no less, you get a cookie.
As we drove to the stream, we discussed the significance of this coincidence. Was it an omen? And then, it came, like a light from the heavens. "Turn the Page" burst out from Booter's radio. We had been thrice blessed by Ann Arbor's favorite son.
This was our sign.
It turned out that the fishing fucking sucked, so Bob can go to hell.
We started at Eagle to once again rain mice over the boulder field. I once again managed to foul hook a brown, while TP and Boot caught a few, though nothing big. The fierce strikes and loud splashes were curiously absent this night.
Once we gave up on the spot, we drove to the where TP and I had fished once in May and tested the waters near the bridge. Nada. We then made the short jaunt to the "Bridge," where the hits picked up, especially at Quickdraw's favorite run, but nothing of size was taken.
Next time I'll quote Kid Rock.
Monday, July 16, 2007
P.Y.T.
I've come to a moral crossroad, and I don't know what to do. My search for new (to me) music has been taking me to some odd corners of the spectrum. For example, I recently purchased two Klezmer albums and three Devo offerings, and while they didn't do much for me, they aren't my cause for consternation.
I had somehow gotten a Michael Jackson song in my head. Not knowing the title, I went to iTunes to see if I could find it. Using the preview feature (which btw is waaaaay better than Amazon's), I was able to find the song, "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'" from the album, Thriller.
I purchased the song and it turned out to be a pretty good tune, but in my searching, I found another promising track. So I downloaded that as well and was rewarded with a bangin' tune!
I have never been a huge MJ fan, not owning any albums past Off the Wall. My memory of 80s pop culture is also spotty at best, but I couldn't for the life of me remember hearing this song. Certainly this song stands up with his best, and I felt practically cheated that DJs, club or wedding, have never busted out this track in favor of over-played hits like "Beat It" and "Billie Jean."
To give you a window into my head, when I hear a song, the first things I usually focus on are the melody, instrumentation and production. Lyrics come last. The song in question is "P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing)".
After listening to and enjoying the song a few times, I hit rewind on my iPod to try and decipher the lyrics. Then, it struck me. In light of recent history, the title alone gave me cause for alarm (and made me start laughing on the bus). Images of a naked MJ crooning this song to Macaulay Culkin while cradling a chimp danced through my head. The actual lyrics didn't help, a portion of which I shall sample for you:
"Nothin' can stop this burnin'
Desire to be with you
Gotta get to you baby
Won't you come, it's emergency
Cool my fire yearnin'
Honey, come set me free
Don't you know now is the perfect time
We can dim the lights
Just to make it right
In the night
Hit the lovin' spot
I'll give you all I've got"
So here I am. Is it wrong for me to like this song, given the events and revelations of the past 15+ years? By actually paying money for this, am I also guilty of his (alleged) crimes?
In the end, I hope this will go towards the payment of his settlements to various lawsuits, and maybe everyone can get their lives back on track. I had hoped that writing this down would help me sort this out, but my feelings are still confused. I feel dirty.
New Feature: Great Gas Station Names
From my earliest days of driving around the lands of the Great North, I've noticed fantastic (pervertedly suggestive) gas station names. It started with this one, but after seeing numerous others, I have come to the reckoning (hope) that small town gas station owners have a great sense of humor.
I offer to you, as the start of this series, the one that started it all (for me).
I offer to you, as the start of this series, the one that started it all (for me).
Skunking in Skunk City
Date: July 15, 2007
Location: V
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: skunk
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
Fruit Booter
This time, we parked by the highway to scout new water. After casting to fish that probably weren't there, spooking some small trout and suckers, and trespassing on farmland, we called it to go shoot some clays.
Someday, we will figure this place out, and/or get lucky with a huge fish. Days like this are merely the penance we must pay. Or at least that's what I tell myself.
Location: V
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: skunk
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
Fruit Booter
This time, we parked by the highway to scout new water. After casting to fish that probably weren't there, spooking some small trout and suckers, and trespassing on farmland, we called it to go shoot some clays.
Someday, we will figure this place out, and/or get lucky with a huge fish. Days like this are merely the penance we must pay. Or at least that's what I tell myself.
Boy, you got a purdy small mouth
Date: July 14, 2007
Location: iRiver
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: a few smallies and a pan fish
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Quickdraw
Xan
Dead fish. The stench wafted through the small gravel parking lot when we arrived. This was our first outing at the iRiver. Quick's coworker has fished these waters, so we thought we would give it a try.
Walking along the path toward the stream, QD's sharp eye spotted a nice little treat, wild raspberries. We plucked and ate the finest looking of the bunch as we giggled like little schoolgirls (or farted, I forget which).
After sampling the fruits of Wisconsin, we got into the water in search of trout. After a short walk downstream, we came upon a fishy looking run and began to cast. Not long after, I saw a fish attack one of my flies and the battle was on. I only saw a glimpse of the fish as it bolted downstream. After a short but strong fight, it popped the fly and made its escape.
It didn't look like a trout, and my suspicions were later confirmed. Further upstream, I began to bugger a slow, deeper stretch of water. I started landing smallmouth bass.
I'm a trout angler by name, station and creed. In moments of levity or drunkenness, I may confess to be a more general salmonidae fellow. My experiences with "rough" fish are limited, but I dare say my prejudices were challenged this day.
The smallie, while an ugly and stupid creature, has one fine feature, they are quite the fighters. Like Michael Vick, I likes me a fighter. While not as fierce as the 22"er I pulled out of the V, or a trout in a raging Montana river, the smallies put a strain on my arm.
However, it was trout we were after. After we both landed a few decent smallies, we decided to drive to another spot of the river where we hoped to find our prey.
A ways downstream, we found an area that did hold trout. Unfortunately for the trout I found, I false hooked it in the eye. Sorry, little guy.
That was all the action we would find there. We called it a day and finished our session with cheese conies at the local A&W.
All in all, a beautiful day filled with fresh raspberries and my first smallies.
Location: iRiver
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: a few smallies and a pan fish
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Quickdraw
Xan
Dead fish. The stench wafted through the small gravel parking lot when we arrived. This was our first outing at the iRiver. Quick's coworker has fished these waters, so we thought we would give it a try.
Walking along the path toward the stream, QD's sharp eye spotted a nice little treat, wild raspberries. We plucked and ate the finest looking of the bunch as we giggled like little schoolgirls (or farted, I forget which).
After sampling the fruits of Wisconsin, we got into the water in search of trout. After a short walk downstream, we came upon a fishy looking run and began to cast. Not long after, I saw a fish attack one of my flies and the battle was on. I only saw a glimpse of the fish as it bolted downstream. After a short but strong fight, it popped the fly and made its escape.
It didn't look like a trout, and my suspicions were later confirmed. Further upstream, I began to bugger a slow, deeper stretch of water. I started landing smallmouth bass.
I'm a trout angler by name, station and creed. In moments of levity or drunkenness, I may confess to be a more general salmonidae fellow. My experiences with "rough" fish are limited, but I dare say my prejudices were challenged this day.
The smallie, while an ugly and stupid creature, has one fine feature, they are quite the fighters. Like Michael Vick, I likes me a fighter. While not as fierce as the 22"er I pulled out of the V, or a trout in a raging Montana river, the smallies put a strain on my arm.
However, it was trout we were after. After we both landed a few decent smallies, we decided to drive to another spot of the river where we hoped to find our prey.
A ways downstream, we found an area that did hold trout. Unfortunately for the trout I found, I false hooked it in the eye. Sorry, little guy.
That was all the action we would find there. We called it a day and finished our session with cheese conies at the local A&W.
All in all, a beautiful day filled with fresh raspberries and my first smallies.
Monday, July 9, 2007
Beaver, Damn!
Date: July 6, 2007
Location: Eagle & Club
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: too dark to see
Fish landed: skunk
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
TP
Quickdraw
Another mouse outing at both Eagle and Club. Pat was making a long overdue trip to the stream, and his first night outing of the year. While TP was slaying them, Quickdraw landed his first fish on a mouse, netting a total of three. This was the second or third.
He was also successful in catching one of these:
The pics aren't very good, but you get the idea. Nice job, Quickie!
Location: Eagle & Club
Air temp: 70s
Water temp: ???
Hatches: too dark to see
Fish landed: skunk
Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:
Xan
TP
Quickdraw
Another mouse outing at both Eagle and Club. Pat was making a long overdue trip to the stream, and his first night outing of the year. While TP was slaying them, Quickdraw landed his first fish on a mouse, netting a total of three. This was the second or third.
He was also successful in catching one of these:
The pics aren't very good, but you get the idea. Nice job, Quickie!
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