Vacation & Travel | fishing for words

November 2, 2009
by Patrick Konoske Leave a comment

end-of-season fishing trip ’09: the warm up

Three more days of work and we’re outta here.

After last year’s inaugural trip to cold waters during the last full weekend of California’s trout season, the commitment was made to do it again. In approximately 90 hours one son and I should be on the road. We’ll stop at the Bass Pro Shops store near Manteca to drool, and make it to the cabin by sundown.

With any luck, we’ll be out of cell phone range all day Saturday, traversing just under one hundred miles to Bridgeport.

The goal: fish the East Walker River one more time before snow closes the passes. The EW’s flowing low but hope is high that this’ll remain steady through the weekend and allow access to areas I didn’t fish during the summer.

Then, depending on the fishing at the EW, our stamina, our doggedness or a combination of all three influences, maybe we’ll make it roundabout trip with a drive down to Lee Vining, hang a right, and head up and over Tioga Pass for a last late-season look.

September 16, 2009
by Patrick Konoske Leave a comment

big fish, big fun

I’ve heard it said that that those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it, but I don’t think that applies to fly fishing. At least not during a recent Eastern Sierra trip with the club. Fall is just around the corner in this neck of the woods and it seems the local trout are feeling it. It certainly wasn’t a case of “you should have been here last week.”

To ~~get the skunk off as early as possible~~ maximize fishing, I joined two club members on our way to our temporary home at Tom’s Place Resort. I arranged an early morning met up that put us on the East Walker River by mid morning, just in time for a small caddis hatch. The killer combination was a size 16 black caddis on top with a crystal flash zebra midge of my own design. Three hours later and with eight browns to the net — biggest at 14 inches — it was off to Tom’s Place, where we’d meet up with the rest of the group. After a quick transfer of food and luggage to the cabins, a quick rundown offered by yours truly of some fishing options, we headed out. The scenery alone would be worth the price of admission; the sage infused high-desert of the East Slope, with a backdrop of pines and aspens climbing snow-tipped granite mountains. A backdrop that only became more beautiful with a trout brought to the hand.

With only a few hours to fish, I headed to the outlet of Rock Creek Lake to jump into the playground of brookies, offering a wide spot bordered by rushes or plunge pools directly below the lake outlet. Dries were the order of the hour, with humpies winning hands down.

Then, there came the food. Posole for dinner Friday, pulled pork on Saturday, and a heavy-duty breakfast composed of six pounds of bacon and three dozen eggs. And I can’t forget the homemade beer.

Dutch on a nice rainbow.

Saturday two fishing friends and I hit Crowley Lake with a guide. Crowley didn’t give up fish easily, or quickly. But quality was good. The only woman on the boat ended up catching only browns — and with five of ‘em, more fish than me or her husband — while her husband landed only Kamloops rainbows. I ended up with four Lahontan cutthroat and one Eagle Lake rainbow. With the except of my rainbow, all of our fish exceeded 18 inches, with my largest cutthroat topping out at 22 inches.

During a mid afternoon break, we tied some flies, including a few midges based on my recipe: silver bead head, black thread body overwrapped with ghost crystal flash, counter wrapped with red or silver fine wire, with a small crystal flash tail. That afternoon brought some thundershowers, but they only dampened the ground, not the fishing.

Sunday dawned bright and clear, and we headed out separate ways. Some stopped at the Tuolumne River, just south of the Hwy 120 bridge to net two fish and miss a bunch on a size 18 black EHC. A few of us again hit the East Walker, where we dredged up browns with nymphs and wet flies.

In the end, we collectively landed brook trout, Eagle Lake and Kamloops rainbows, Loch Leven and German (aka von Beher) browns, at least one cuttbow, and Lahontan cutthroats.

Our Crew

After stopping overnight at the cabin in Twain Harte, I fished a local stream in the rain – and I was the only one on the water there – and landed fifteen stocked rainbows. Fall is fast becoming my favorite time of the year up there…quiet and no crowds.

All in all, a great trip, great fishing, and great fun.

August 24, 2009
by Patrick Konoske 1 Comment

making it mine II

It’s sometimes about dreams here at ffw headquarters, so the anticipation that comes with planning is part and parcel around the ol’ homestead. That’s why I wasted spent part of Sunday afternoon with the motorcycle.

I justified it a bit with some small maintenance items…an adjustment to the rear brake, a bit of fiddling with the rear brake pedal height and a check of the tires’ air pressure.

More fun was a test fit of the new luggage. Not only does it look good, but eyeballing the whole assembly gives the impression that the saddlebags offer enough space for four to six days of warm-weather clothing, while the expandable tailbag could allow room for other dreams. (Room for necessary fly fishing gear?)

The installation of some risers should address long-distance comfort by bringing the handlebar a bit higher and closer. Judgment remains reserved until I have a bit more time in the saddle.

The biggest dream came about last week in the form of a map outlining a route up the Pacific Coast. It stretches along the northern coast of California, up the coast of Oregon and Washington, loops around Olympic National Park, drops down through Bainbridge Island, includes a ferry ride across Puget Sound to Seattle, and finishes at the folks’ house.

Roughly 1,026 miles over four days. Summer of 2011? Maybe.

Good thing the new bags come with rain covers.

August 12, 2009
by Patrick Konoske Leave a comment

beer and crayfish, washington style

A few years ago I threw a hasty thought in Sean’s general direction: at or soon after age 21, how ’bout he and I and whoever was willing spend sometime tasting brews in Washington state?

He didn’t forget.

We’re back now, but here’s to hoping that memories of our trip will pop to mind every time we sip Rogue Brewery‘s Dry Hopped Saint Rogue Red Ale (Mark – Sean and I already have some in the fridge) or the harder-to-find Chipotle Ale.

It was a good, relatively unstructured trip. After twenty-plus years of deadlines, I’m beginning to tend to avoid them on my own time. The only specific goals: beer and crayfish and visiting with the folks and the bro’ and his family.

Bookended by crowded but relatively uneventful flights, our vacation begin last Thursday morning, conveyed in The Buick by mom and dad. Thursday was a day of visiting, catching up and re-introductions between the cousins/nephews and the cousin and uncle. Kaden seemed to have a fuzzy recollection of who I might be, or at least the idea that I wouldn’t bite. Levi was a bit standoffish, or perhaps a bit more focused on grandpa and oma’s toy selection. It was an enjoyable afternoon.

August 2009 visit 024 Dad Mark Issaquah Brewery

Mark and Dad discussing beer at the Issaquah Brew House

Friday’s mission was beer-ucation. Fueled by a pancake breakfast and skewered meat for lunch, the boys-Sean, Mark, dad and me-it was off to Issaquah Brew House. Among the beers we tasted were the aforementioned Saint Rogue Red and Chipotle Ale, as well as Brutal Bitter, Chocolate Stout, Hazelnut Brown Nectar, Juniper Pale Ale, Morimoto Imperial Pilsner, Old Crustacean Barleywine, White Frog Ale (a favorite), and Ménage À Frog Ale (an abbey tripel, my personal favorite). It’s a great place to enjoy a variety of Rogue and “guest” beers. A place we should all hope to visit again.

Sean and our flight at the Raven Brewing Co. (Redmond, Wash.)

Unfortunately, all of my research was conducted online, so our next stop was the actual brewery, and without a taproom it was on to the Black Raven Brewing Co. Tucked into an industrial park, the Black Raven taproom offers somewhat of an upscale, almost yuppy-ish setting. (Dad asked the barkeep if coffee might be available, and got a resounding “no.”) The selection of beers is limited to Black Raven’s production, but we enjoyed a flight, with Kristale Wheat bring one favorite, as well as an unfiltered version of a German weizen beer.

The next stop was predicated on hunger. Knowing that Redhook Ale Brewery tends to be popular and crowded, we stopped anyhow, hoping to grab some beer and grub. But a 40-minute wait didn’t sit well, so a short drive later we dropped in on Teddy’s Bigger Burger. Pretty good place; clean, well lit, with good burgers. And dad learned that a 7-ounce burger is much more filling than a 5 ounce.

Saturday started with stomach stretches as a prelude to a good ol’-fashion crayfish boil. With a Pacific Northwest twist. We occupied our time in the morning visiting with Mark and family, and Kaden beating me at Mario Kart on the Wii. Mark whipped up some salsa and guac’ to tide us over. Then Sean, Mark and me headed out to visit our hosts, Joe and Toby, then drooled over a few motorcycles before returning to the house, where dad was waiting.

A meal!

When judged by Northerners, and even West Coasters, crayfish don’t top the list of foods with which we have much of a relationship. However, boiled with just the right amount of Zatarain’s seasoning and accompanied by king crab legs, shrimp, clams, three varieties of sausage, corn on the cob, and potatoes, crayfish become more than food-you-can-play-with. Add to that plenty of beer, ranging from Coors to Pacific Northwest craft brews; a sweet and deceiving alcoholic beverage with “vixen” in its name, side dishes, and desserts, and you’ve got a food festival. Between the crowd rushing the table as each pot’s contents were poured out, the kids running around, and the socializing, it was an awesome time. (Public thanks once again to Toby and Joe!)

Sean and I crashed at Mark and Kenna’s house that night…crashed I say thanks to Mark-made apple-tinis; only to awaken Sunday to a Breakfast Nirvana of stomach-stickin’ buttermilk pancakes, Lil Smokies sausages, and bacon. Kenna and Kaden had a party to attend, so Sean, Mark, Levi and me took the nickel tour of the area and took a man-walk around Snohomish, which is basically an antiquing town. After a stop in a coffee house, it was back home…

…and after doing laundry and filling our suitcases with clean clothes, we all met at the Ixtapa restaurant in Duvall. A nice ending. It was a great trip.

Just means we’ll be back again. Hopefully sooner rather than later.

Below are the rest of the pictures…

Me, Sean, Mark, Mom, Kaden, Dad and Levi

Me, Kenna, Sean

Sean, me and Mark at the Issaquah Brew House.

Another flight.

Me and Sean at Raven Brew Co.

Mom laughing, probably at Mark.

Mark in a typical pose.

Kaden

Levi up close and personal.

Our meal in the raw.

Checking out the crawdaddies.

Mark and crawdad friend.

The boys.

Levi looking for a friend.

Sean, Kenna, Kaden and Mark around the fire.

Looking good!

Dad, Sean, Kenna, Levi and Mark around the fire.

Sean, Oma, Grandpa

Me, Mom, Dad

August 11, 2009
by Patrick Konoske Leave a comment

sean’s fish pictures

I’m a bit tardy putting these up, but Sean sent me photos of two fish he caught while camping in the Tioga Pass area during July. The brown is his first brown trout, caught on a fly. The second is a brook caught out of Lee Vining Creek, where they can be quite spooky.

Sean’s Brook Trout from Lee Vining Creek

Sean’s Brown Trout from Lee Vining Creek

August 5, 2009
by Patrick Konoske Leave a comment

wild wednesday

Man vs. Wild takes on the Sierra Nevada: http://tinyurl.com/ne39ws
Gulls Gone Wild & The Men in Black: http://tinyurl.com/n35lru
Strikers Gone Wild: http://tinyurl.com/o463cs

August 4, 2009
by Patrick Konoske Leave a comment

ffw to hop a short flight; shaky promise of updates to come

Writing on the road isn’t that easy, and when ranked on a list that includes family, beer and free food, blog posts come dead last. Sure, facilities will be available — serviceable computers at my parents’ home and my bro~~‘s man cave~~ and his wife’s cute house — but rather than force out mediocre musings, I’ll write when I can and hope it makes sense the next day after heavy editing.

I’ll be winging it north Thursday morning with Sean the Older Son; part of a pact sealed a few years ago and relating to his reaching the legal (alcoholic) drinking age. Countering the idea of that this entails the consumption of mass quantities; the hopeful lesson of this trip will be the appreciation of quality.

It’ll be another 43 hours before we join the herd filling coach seating on an Alaska Airlines 737-900. After one hour and fifty-seven minutes we should be on approach — then a few minutes later the ‘rents will ~~zoom out of~~ leisurely leave Sea-Tac Airport’s cell phone parking lot, hopefully to offer us a seat, instead of the trunk this time, for the ride to Duvall.

With the exception of a neighborhood crawdad boil to which we’ve invited ourselves, there’s no definitive calendar of events for this trip; only a punch list of things to do.

~~Photographic evidence~~ A photographic diary may be in the offing, and at the very least we’ll take the easy way out to throw a jumble of words and ~~blurry cell phone pics~~ photos on Facebook.

Life is about to take on a welcome hectic pace that comes with cramming a bunch o’ fun into a few days away.

See you on the highway, in the air and eventually on the ground.

July 22, 2009
by Patrick Konoske 2 Comments

hot weekend!

The often unknown price of planning a trip to The Cabin can come in many forms…frozen pipes in the winter, construction noises in the spring…and heat in the summer.

I knew it’d be a whirlwind (long) weekend, with Christopher and Katelyn dropping in Friday night for some fishing Saturday, followed by Sean and Kirsten arriving Saturday night for more fishing Sunday. (Both boys are at that age during which young men seem to test the devotion of girlfriends by dragging them around to all sorts of questionable activities.) I did not know that temperatures would soar those three days, breaking thermometer bulbs up and down the Sierra foothills. The car thermometer read 107°F at one point. While I’d rather not believe that figure, the psychological toll came nowhere near the physical.

But we managed to have fun. Christopher wanted to test the waters of the South Fork of the Tuolumne River, up the road from Groveland, so we did. Sean and I had visited this stretch of the river on Opening Day, only to find the flows quite high. This time around we found nice pools and decent fishing. I initially headed upstream, finding a welcome strike or two; finally landing a decent rainbow after casing upstream to a likely pool from behind a boulder. Christopher and Katelyn chased after some fish they saw lingering in a bigger pool.

My Tuolumne River Rainbow

My attention turned downstream. Fruitless casts into some bigger water prompted a switch to a dry/dropper set up (dry fly with a trailing nymph). This produced at least a dozen takes and a few smaller fish landed, including what might have been my first Sacramento pikeminnow, in juvenile form. After the Tuolumne we played at Moccasin Creek for a while. With the blame for the tougher than usual fishing placed firmly on our late afternoon arrival and the high pressure system that brought the searing heat — I still managed to hook and land four decent rainbows.

Sean & Bass

The remaining daylight after dinner found us, as promised, fishing a small pond near Lyons Canal for bass and sunfish. We all caught something. The bass were small but willing to hit nearly anything. Christopher and I threw streamers to hook numerous bass, while Katelyn landed one on a spinner. We closed the fishing for the day with a stroll along the canal, where Christopher landed a decent-sized brown trout. Later, Christopher took first in a round of miniature golf, with dad behind by one stroke. Then Christopher and Katelyn left and dad collapsed.

Sean and Kirsten were ready to roll about 6:00 a.m. Sunday and we were on Moccasin Creek by 7:15. The fishing was again a bit tough. I’ll blame my lack of fish to hand on the fact that Sean borrowed my 5 wt. fly rod because Kirsten was using Sean’s/my backup 5 wt. fly rod, leaving me to use a too-limber 3 wt., which made strong hook sets difficult. However, when all was said and done, dad out-fished Sean by two trout. I think it was 7-5. Kirsten also hooked a few and landed one.

The post-dinner fishing was again targeting bass and sunfish. Sean had a frustrating time with a streamer. At my suggestion he switched to a dry/dropper and was immediately on to the small bass. The fun continued after I tied on a damselfly imitation to elicit some awesome top-water strikes. But let’s just say that the dad vs. Sean competition wasn’t even close in this venue. (Grasshopper, when you can take the fly from my hand, it will be time for you to outfish your father.)

Another game of miniature golf showed my consistency…again one stroke behind the son. This game, however, sure brought out Kirsten’s competitive streak. She was ready for an immediate rematch with Sean.

Did I mention it was hot all weekend?

Fat Fish

Rainbow from Water That Shall Not Be Named

Kirsten & Trout

Sean & Trout

Wild Brown

Kaitlin & Bass

July 13, 2009
by Patrick Konoske Leave a comment

teach a son to (fly) fish…

“Give a son a fish; you have fed him for today. Teach that son to fly fish; and you will have to answer constant questions about where, when, how…and tie a bunch of flies for his next camping trip.”

Sean and Christopher are back after a three-day fishing/camping trip in the high country around Tuolumne Meadows. And the fishing went well.

The first report trickled in from a pay phone…at least once Sean figured out how to use it. I’m hoping he didn’t immediately leave the stream to seek out the phone, but it was great to get a message that he’d caught his first wild brown trout using a fly rod. Later I’d learn that he caught other trout, including two wild brookies in a section of Lee Vining Creek where I know it’s tough to get any interest in a fly. It’s also cool to note that he caught them on dry fly. I believe that’s the first time he’s hooked a trout on a dry.

It would have been nice to be there…and I’m still awaiting photographic proof…but it’s nice to know that Sean put to use skills and tactics taught by his ol’ dad to fool some fish. (Just need to keep enough secrets to myself so he’ll never outfish me!)

Apparently though, Christopher resorted to spinners and, of all things, that stinky, unnaturally colored man-made bait to land a bushel or more of trout. Guess he won the weekend on sheer numbers, if not on the elegance of the method. (Insert acknowlegement of a certain bias toward fish caught on the fly.)

It seems that for me days of fishing, and catching, have been somewhat of a rarity so far this year. Here’s to hoping that next weekend I’ll get in some make-up fishing.