Epic Day

Traditionally the word "epic" referred to a long story surrounding a heroic main character.  Today the word expresses wonder or awe at the overall awesomeness of something.  When the word first gained modern popularity it was almost annoying how often people were using it. Epic fails, epic wins, epic stunts, you name it and you could find it being done, epically.  Fortunately, the "epic" spouting has calmed down.  The word has been changed forever thanks to the flexibility of the English language.  There are some word trends I wish we could forget. "Porn" this and "porn" that. I may sound like a prude, but I would be glad to see that word stay a red-light district term and keep away from the world of angling, but that's a whole other topic.  As for the word "epic", it was overused for a time, but I'm okay with it being around today. And sometimes things are just... well... epic.

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I awoke to the unobtrusive sound of crickets issuing from my phone.  "Text me when you leave your house" was the message I sent Shane the evening before.  Rubbing my eyes, trying to read the text, I made out "Wakey wakey." Ha ha, good old Shane.  Groggy but determined I forced myself out of the bed I had crawled into a mere three hours previously. With determination I had stayed up till 3ish in the AM to ensure a whole homework-free day on the water.

I pulled into the gas station parking lot, threw stuff into Shane's pickup, we grabbed some breakfast, and headed out for some unseasonably warm, winter fishing.  The sun crept over the hills, slowly illuminating the sparse cloud cover with hues of pink, red, and blue.  Good vibes were in the air as we pulled up to the water. That new fishing trip excitement is infectious. There's something about a whole day full of angling possibilities that gets me giddy. I think most serious anglers can relate.

Suited up, we started beating the exposed riverbed with our wader clad feet. The best fishing spots require foot work (without a boat), and we put that theory into action most outings. Ice cracked underfoot. First casts... Shane's indicator sunk, set, fish on!  My indicator moments later... dunk, set, fish on!  A double on the first casts of the day.  It was as if the Beach Boys were singing their immemorial tune "Good Vibrations" in the background. It was a sign of good things to come.

And so it went throughout the day, the weather was great, the flies did their trick, goodhearted banter with jokes went on, and the fishing was productive.

The fly that did the trick for almost all my fish was a white bugger-like fly tied on a Gamakatsu 211 Jig hook (tutorial to come, eventually).  Jig flies are something I have been experimenting with for about a year now, with great success.  They're nothing new to tie flies with, but rarely seen being fished on a fly rod, especially under an indicator.  Apparently it works.  I fished white in tandem with a hotwire hare's ear trailer the whole day, and Shane fished olive with a san juan worm trailer.

You really never know what you're going to get on your line in any given day, location, or run.  The fishing had already been great and it was not yet noon.  We came up to one of our favorite spots and began catching fish pretty quick.  After we had been there for a bit I decided to drift one right up close to the bank.  The indicator sank and I thought it might have been a snag. After the precautionary hook-set (because you never know) I felt a heavy, throbbing headshake.  A few moments later I could make out the form of a stout fish, doing what Adele would do if hooked, rolling in the deep.  I hollered at Shane, and being the faithful friend and fishing companion he is, he scooped up his net and hurried over to help.  Once landed we could see it was a beautiful hybrid.

A few casts later, a little more upstream, but in the same run, a similar thing happened.  This time it turned out to be a hearty bow.  This was one of maybe three fish that took the hare's ear the entire day, but I think that was because I fished it on a tag end a couple feet above the jig fly, so as to not hinder the jigs swimming motion under the indicator.  One thing I have noticed with these jig flies is that twitching your indicator is actually a good thing, where it gives the fly movement and the weight of the jig still keeps the fly "in the zone."  Often the indicator would tank immediately after a twitch, similar to fishing with chironomids.

I'm not entirely certain what is was about this day, but the big hybrids were out and hungry.  A little later in the day we were exploring some water that looked promising.  Shane's indicator did what we like it to do and he connected with another fantastic hybrid.

On one instance my indicator went down and I set only to find myself hooked up with what felt like a carp, or massive trout.  Carp have a distinctive bulldog fighting style and with their mass they do not move around as quickly as a trout does.  It fought well for being in nearly freezing water.  It was a wonderful surprise, and on a white jig fly no less.

There is something about trout colors in the winter.  They get so much brighter and the fish appear so much healthier.  It would be a crime not to take a picture of how beautiful some of these fish are.

Not much later in the day, and in the same place Shane picked up his dandy I set into another thick hybrid.  I have no idea why the hybrids were so active, but I'm not arguing!  

Shane stuck another beaut, unfortunately the camera's settings got changed when it was stuffed into a backpack, and I didn't think to check them.  I think you can still get a sense for the quality of fish it was from the pic. 

It was one of those trips that leaves you on a fishing high for days.  It felt like "indian summer fall" kind of weather and the fishing matched.  These are the kind of days you walk your tail off to get.  Was it worth staying up till 3 in the morning?  You betcha.  I can probably count the number of these kind of days on one hand.  Sorry to overwhelm you with pictures, but sometimes they tell the best story.  And what better way to show how a day on the water can be, than to show some beautiful fish pics and tell you it was simply... epic.

Fly Tying: Hotwire Hare's Ear

The Hotwire Hare's Ear has proven an extremely effective pattern.  I nymph with it as well as use it to trail streamers.  The fish love to take it slow stripped, on the swing, and dead drifted.  I'm not sure if they think it is an emerger or tiny baitfish, but either way they seem to like it.  The "hotwire" rib seems to makes it pop in murky conditions too.  It's no great leap of innovation in the world of fly tying, but it seems to work.  I always have some in my box now.  It's a quick and simple tie, so have at it.





One of the recent goods it has produced...

The Madness We Call Summer

It is crazy how quickly an hour, day, or week can be filled up with things to do.  When summer rolls into the drive she brings with her a lifetimes worth of things to do.  Well, forget that because this is Idaho.  When you only get three solid months of "perfect weather," it becomes a mad dash to fit in all the work and recreating the warm weather facilitates.  Between work, family, church, school, gardening, and trying to get things together to apply to P.A. schools, I'm finding it hard to think straight.  Fortunately there has been time to get out here and there despite all the things I should be doing.  Here are some small reports of recent outings.

Ririe Reservoir (Blacktail side)

There were some reports of perch being caught off of the docks on both ends of Ririe Reservoir, so we rounded up our little family and headed up for an evening.  The wind was blowing a bit, but it was warm enough until the sun dropped out of sight.  Since our target was perch, directly below the docks, all we took were a few ice fishing rods and holders.  No perch were managed, but three trout and one sucker graced our evening.  Isaac was all smiles with his first fish.  It is the most excited I have seen him get over catching a fish.

Isaac was happy to show off his quarry.  It was great to see how happy he was to catch it.

Bita was keeping the chair from blowing away.  Okay, so the wind wasn't that bad, but we did have to keep an eye on the bags for the folding chairs.

This poor little guy was in the road on the way home.  I tagged him before I realized it was in fact a snake.


Bear River

It had been quite some time since Jared and I could get out on the water together.  What a great guy.  His wife is not too far from bringing their third into this world, which gave us all the more reason to enjoy this trip, knowing that he probably won't be getting out much in the next little while.

When trying to decide where to go and what to chase we settled on carp.  The Bear River is a fantastic carp fishery.  It doesn't often boast sizable fish, but the fishing is almost all visual/sight, and the carp are aggressive and willing most days.  A 5 weight will do.  There are also some decent sized trout hiding amidst the lava shoots, along with the occasional bass.

This trout started rising consistently about 15 feet out.  Not wanting to switch up to a dry fly I threw out the black leech pattern I had been using on the carp.  With the rod tip up I swung the fly just under the surface and seconds later connected to this scrappy guy who put up a surprising fight.

One thing I love about the guys I frequently fish with is their sense of humor.  We all laugh together, crack horribly punny jokes, and try to keep things relatively clean.  As Jared and I were packing up to head to another spot a ways down river we spotted this "mermaid rock" and couldn't resist.  Jared makes a pretty good merman wouldn't you say?  

All in all if you enjoy sight fishing for carp, and don't care too much about catching a behemoth, you can't go wrong with the Bear.  Hotspotting you say? ... Oh no, please don't go catch them, there won't be any more left... ha ha, good luck there.


Warm River

The weather was nearly irresistible last week.  Once again we wrangled up the kiddos, threw them in the car, and piled on the camping gear.  Man it is crazy how much stuff you have to take once you have kids, and all to sleep one night in a tent outside.  It was a blast and I would do it again in a heartbeat despite the packhorse feeling that accompanies a parent of three kids.

Can you tell whose line belongs to whose pole?

We love Warm River. It has a bunch of grass, is a relatively shallow river filled with a bunch of planters, has very well maintained facilities, and is just down the road from Mesa Falls.  Plainly put, it's family friendly.

Will was admiring the pretty coloring on this little brownie.

Will reels and Isaac nets.

We got there pretty late so after setting up the tent and starting a fire there was hardly light to do anything else.  William insisted on fishing just a bit so I hurriedly rigged up his rod and we managed one fish before it was pitch black out.  He seemed sated so we walked back to the fire, roasted up hot dogs, made smores, and hit the sack.  The next day we did quite a bit of fishing, mostly on dry flies, and then floated the river before heading home.

Isaac did an excellent job of netting the fish, and seemed to prefer that job.  Elijah enjoyed the ride, and Will casted away with his own rod.

A surprise wild brown.

Will heading over to the river for some solo fishing  first thing in the morning.  

Nunya River

Last Saturday Shane and I wanted to get out and float the Nunya.  The flows were still up a bit with runoff, but the water was clear and we were itching to fish it.  We dropped off my car for the shuttle and headed up river.  After filling up the raft, rigging and wadering up we hit the water.  The water level changed the game a bit.  The fish were holding deep.  Fast water, streamers, and deep holding fish make for a tricky combo.  We managed a few along the way, but decided it fishes better when just a bit lower.  The Magic Dragon shouldered most of the load.

We happened upon some hatch that we had difficulty identifying.  It wasn't anything big, and there were hardly any caddis around, but toward the evening there were multiple 20"+ fish rising.  Whatever they were taking it certainly was small.  We landed a handful of smaller fish, but couldn't manage any of the larger.  I had a couple on, but lost them both to bent hooks.  It was a sobering reminder as to why I prefer fighting a streamer-caught fish.  Not to mention my dry fly skills are rusty!

A pretty one Shane tricked with his little olive caddis.

We pulled off the river after dark.  Shane and I then did a bit of night fishing/exploring a bit further north.  Not much to show for it other than a couple chunky 10" browns.  Night fishing certainly has it's own personality. The next day I walked around like a zombie.  Night fishing (depending on how late) often produces a kind of coma/daze the following day.



As crazy as the summer juggling act is, between all the people and things that need attention, it's overall an enjoyable madness.  We are pretty blessed that often one of the big trials we face is the loss of recreation time.  I'll take the madness of summer over a sedentary or idle lifestyle any day.



Side Note:

It looks like another job is getting added into the mix in the coming weeks.  I'm trying to get a foot into the "medical experience" door and becoming a Psych Tech will hopefully do that. We'll see how it affects this already crazy summer.

Skunks, Cuts, and The Goose

My phone croaked at me.  It's probably because I have the message alert set to do it, but it still sneaks up on me at times.  Plus it is always enjoyable to see peoples faces when they think I have a frog in my pocket.

I picked up my phone to check who I had received a text from.  To my pleasant surprise it was my good buddy Gus.  He was checking to see if I would be free later in the afternoon to do a bit of fishing.  He and I so rarely have time to fish together, so it is always great to have his company on the water.

Since there was not much time for travel, we kept things local.  This was an easy decision to make considering the "local" waters have been fishing pretty well the past little while.

We decided to begin by walking a short stretch of water that had received little to no pressure.  Tandem streamer rigs fit the bill and we began probing the water for hungry cuts.  About a third of the way into the stretch I was beginning to have second thoughts as to the area.  Then we came to a deeper slow pool.  I ran my black articulated dagwood-sized meal through the run and picked up one medium sized guy.  Gus, who was fishing right next to me, then laid a tight cast up against a partly submerged tree.  He began retrieving his cutty candy/black leech combo and a few strips in BAM!  I looked over to see an awesome fish rolling in the depths, clearly displeased that Gus had so ninja-ly stuck him.

He brought the great looking specimen to hand and we only managed two glamor shots before the fish decided he was done.  The angle the picture was taken doesn't quite do him justice.

Gus is a great buddy.  We go back quite a ways and it is always nice to spend time with him.  Since I can remember he has always had the nickname, "Goose."  I thought it fitting this trip.  Every fisherman that enjoys having a companion along appreciates a good wingman (see Top Gun if you are lost in the meaning).  You know, the kind of guy you can fish right next to without having to think about the fact that you are fishing next to them.  Fishing should be all about the natural, and if it's not, well you should go find yourself a Goose. 

Fat Lip, Fat Cutty.  This guy lost the fight.

Here's a quick ode to streamers:  It has become difficult to want to give them up.  They have become my go-to, and are quite addictive.  All it takes is one good experience with them, and then you have the desire to try again and again.  Just ask Josh or Shane!  The payoff is LARGE.  Sometimes in quantity, but usually in quality.

After hitting that short stretch and doing away with the skunk, we decided to move on.

This is the skunk.  Can you see it?  (We did not put it there, promise.  We did away with a proverbial skunk.)

We could not have timed it better.  Bugs were popping off everywhere.  It was the kind of hatch where you get nervous talking without your buff on, because you just might swallow a couple dozen.

There were gray drakes, caddis, and little goldens coming off everywhere!  We fished till the sun dipped behind the mountains.  No real noteworthy fish were caught, but we managed plenty on the surface.  The diversity was satisfying.  The beautiful sunset, with the greens, blues, yellows, and orange hues everywhere was stunning.  It was almost more fun to watch the calm golden river meander by while various sized trout slowly sipped bugs off the surface than to fish ... almost. 

The temperatures are hot on a regular basis now and it appears the runoff is pretty much done.  I do believe summer is officially here.  By way of tidbit news, I received a long package in the mail yesterday.  It was a sad deal when my trusty TICR TFO 8wt broke.  Thank you TFO, for your great customer service.  I can't wait to break this new rod in!