a blog exclusive you won’t find on my wall

This post brought to you by the photo prompt
Most Un-Frame Worthy Outdoor Photo You Got
from the Outdoor Blogger Network (OBN)

Let’s be clear. Fishing small high-country streams means the trophies taken home are usually limited to skinned knees, a sore back or scratches inflicted by any one or multiple species of vegetation.

Those who ask how the fishing was probably won’t understand that the trip is more than just fishing. It’s fishing that entails a walk that, longer than expected, become a hike; the stalking of trout so skittish its remarkable they aren’t afraid of the bugs they eat; and the creation of memories that draw a fisherman back time after time.

Where I fish, at elevations of 6,000-plus feet in the Sierra Nevadas and often above 8,000 feet, there are incredible opportunities to sink back into forests most notable for the lack of human visitation. In the small creeks and rivers found under lodgepole and western white pines, red firs, mountain hemlock and aspens, wild trout live a hardscrabble life during a summer that rarely lasts more then eight weeks. The small size of these trout truly belies their spirit.

But that’s not why they don’t end up in a framed photo on my wall. These trout are so darn small that holding a fish in one handle while using the other to fiddle with camera’s macro setting invariably results in a photo that’s too fuzzy to be called “arty” of a fish that would be a snack for what’s traditionally deemed a trophy trout.

But since so many of these high-country trout to obligingly rise to any of the customary trout flies, seemingly regardless of size, the outcome of a photo op can be a bit unpredictable.

Unframeable Fish Photo

Not to dismiss the Outdooress’ “little guy” as lacking ambition, but this
rainbow seemed to have eyes an appetite bigger than its stomach eye.

the photo that shall not be framed

However, the one photo that will never be framed I also hesitate to share in the blogosphere. Because the fish is so small? Because the photo is so blurry? Yes to both questions.

…but mostly because I don’t know what the heck it might be it’s not a trout.

Pikeminnow.Squawfish.Hardhead

From the South Fork of the Tuolumne River: Pikeminnow? Squawfish? Hardhead? Your guess?


P.S. I’ve since upgraded to a better and waterproof camera to compensate for my lack of photographic skill.

on finding what’s not there a little too late

This post brought to you by the writing prompt “Damaged Goods
from the Outdoor Blogger Network (OBN)

There seems to be a general consensus in the fly fishing community that if you haven’t broken a rod, smashed a reel or torn your waders, you aren’t fishing hard enough or often enough. There may be some truth to this idea. If so, I have to make up for lost time.

Speaking of lost…

It was one of those warm spring days that finally pushed the long, hard, fishless winter to the back of my mind and encouraged thoughts of the season ahead. I’d started early, as usually, setting up a personal roadside staging area behind my Honda, where I pieced together a 5 wt rod, strung line through the guides and tied on those nondescript nymphs that suggest food to fish in the twilight before dawn. I stood on the old rug to slip on waders and boots. Throwing on the vest, I was ready for the short walk from the road down to the creek.

There’s nothing I like better than mornings alone on the creek, when the lack of sunshine renders polarized lenses useless and tilts the odds in favor of the trout. I waded to the opposite shore, from where I could cast towards cut banks and larger fish holding there.

The sun rose. The fishing was good. So was the catching. By noon the body count was well into double digits. Nymphs had been replaced with dry flies.

As usual, things began to slow down during the middle of the afternoon. One last cast led to one more last cast. Then another. And another. Almost without thinking, I’d cast, watch a fish rise, wait a second, then set the hook and bring it to the net. That’s why I nearly fell over when that last fish peeled line off my reel as it raced upstream. This was one of the big ‘uns I thought.

We danced for a good fifteen minutes. Upstream and downstream; into weeds and around boulders. I don’t know whether this particular trout was finally too tired, graciously decided reward me with a close up look, or wanted a closer look at his adversary, but soon we were at arm’s length.

I reached toward my back and grabbed…nothing. Apparently, and unknowingly, I lost my net — formerly attached to a magnetic net holder — sometime during the late afternoon.

No net and a big fish can be bad news. I never saw that fish and I won’t even estimate its length. Let’s just say he’s now referred to as the one of many that got away; an energetic fish that gave me the fin just when I thought the fight was over.

The only thing damaged that day was my pride.

what we see… (03/16/2011)

  • Write up over at Eat More Brook Trout about a ‘small gesture’ tied to fly fishing that will go towards relief efforts in Japan: http://bit.ly/hM9S7t
  • Wine, fly fishing flicks, demos and gear not too far away from me at the Grand opening of the Leland fly fishing ranch. Best of all, it’s free (except for the films): http://bit.ly/SaiKi
  • Take a gander at Eastern Sierra guide Tom Loe’s winter ride…it’ll get you to the Upper Owens River in style, with lunch and cold drinks:
Sierra Drifters War Wagon

The "War Wagon"

my style, or lack of…

It hit me shortly after convincing my wife that the latest issue of Fly Fisherman magazine did not include a centerfold of cover fly gal April Vokey. While I sheepishly adamantly pointed out that I subscribe for the articles…my proof being an article by Greg Vinci about Hot Creek, where I wet line nearly every summer…I couldn’t help but wonder if I should try to look half as good one tenth as good on the water as Ms. Vokey.

April Vokey, FF Mag. April-May 2011

Fly Fishing Magazine, April-May 2011 Issue

Dismissing my inevitable hat hair and rather ordinary face, it occurred to me that maybe, to paraphrase Mark Twain: “Clothes make the man. Naked people look silly fly fishing, and don’t catch much.” Goaded by ads from Simms, patagonia and Orvis peppering the pages of Fly Fisherman, out of that initial notion surfaced the thought that beyond basic fishing equipment such as rod, reel, line, flies, etc., and waders and boots that afford some comfort and safety, stylish apparel not only looks better, it’s necessary.

Back when I used to chuck spinners it used to be okay to throw on an old t-shirt (maybe spring for a spiffier look with a collared polo), slip on old shorts that couldn’t look any worse with another hole, and jump into sneakers so worn that water easily drains away. It certainly was fishing apparel on a budget. Not long ago I spent a few hundred dollars on my first big-name rod and reel, but couldn’t crack the wallet to pull out eighty more dollars for a super-light, all-recycled polyester/organic cotton blend long-sleeve shirt with UPF 30 sun protection. Granted, this shirt also offers rod holder loops, vents for air circulation and pockets for fly boxes, but long-held priorities are hard to shake. After all, I built my wading staff with a dowel, a bicycle grip and cane foot for a grand total of six dollars. (Tom Chandler over at The Trout Underground recommends other just as cheap military-style accessories.)

For me, apparel has always been about comfort because I started fishing during camping trips in the Sierra Nevada high country, and much of the fishing back then took place during long hikes. Cool mornings would give way to searing sunshine until afternoon thunderstorms clouded the skies. Layering was a necessity.

If I weren’t such a cheap son of a gun believed everything fly fishing apparel retailers have to say, a simple cool weather “layering system” — composed of a long-sleeve crewneck undershirt, the aforementioned long-sleeve shirt, base layer bottoms, fleece-lined underwader pants and quarter-zip fleece jacket — would set me back over four hundred dollars.

But, for the most part, my fly fishing apparel has been all about alternatives and the belief that trout really don’t care that much. Once I learned that I was supposed to wear something underneath my waders, I found that inexpensive fleece lounge pants from my local Costco fit the bill. Being made of synthetic fibers they wick away perspiration and remain breathable and comfortable all day. Hiking socks work just as well. A shabby Old Navy fleece pullover offers warmth on cooler days and, again because it’s synthetic, the sleeves dry quickly after a dip into the water to release fish.

I have grudgingly made some concessions. I did pick up a wading jacket for rain protection, but it also serves well to block those late afternoon downslope winds in the Eastern Sierra, or during those early morning boat runs when fishing lakes. I will admit that the few fly fishing-specific shirts in my collection were worth the investment (though all were on sale or gifts), offering a bit more room for my often inelegant casting.

In the end, I made a few decisions related my fly fishing garb.

“Grip and grin” photos will only be taken when the fish is large enough or colorful enough to draw attention away from me and my attire. Otherwise, it’ll be only close ups of hand-held fish or their unapproving eye.

Or, perhaps, I’ll just have to hire better-looking guides to hold my fish.

Don’t tell the wife.


Update: Get another, more realistic take on on-stream style over at the Unaccomplished Angler…

what we see… (03/09/2011)

  • Something worth celebrating…the one-year anniversary of year-round artificial lures and barbless regulations on Putah Creek, and its connection to Creedence Clearwater Revival: http://bit.ly/ez1NRw (And cool video on PutahCreekTrout.org: http://bit.ly/dRP1pE
  • The Naturalist’s Angle comes up with a must-have (and very cool) fly if you’re chasing salamander-eating fish: http://bit.ly/g2RPHa
  • An obsession with a certain facial feature at Singlebarbed and Trout Underground?: http://bit.ly/hkvmvz; http://bit.ly/eJFEvM; http://bit.ly/eNc1En
  • Not just because I’d love to say my car employs torque vectoring, but because it offers all-wheel drive for those Forest Service roads, a long hatch that’ll fit assembled fly rods, the speed that’ll allow more time on the water, and, most importantly, because it didn’t make the Unaccomplished Angler’s list of Top Six Stupidest Fly Fishing Cars: http://aol.it/i8RlQ6