Carp on the Fly

A Blast from the Past

2012-01-30T20:15:00.001-08:00

Seeing lots of first carp of the year posts...I am jealous. All I can do is look at old pictures and dream of warmer days.

I will be back in the game soon enough folks.

River City Flyshop

2012-01-28T19:22:00.001-08:00

A man without a fly shop is like...Well, I can't think of anything. I suck at analogies. But I can say that I would be lost without the boys at River City. Don, Pete and the crew are great guys and I do my best to spend my fly fishing cash at his shop whenever possible. Like all great shops, it is the kind of place you can pop into and talk fishing, tie some flies and tell some lies. My kind of joint...and they put up with my carp fetish well. Don cut me a sweet deal on some dumbell eyes in bulk this year. A set of 100 will be winging to Wendy Berrell shortly, and the carp of lake MI should be quaking in their boots. We intend to lay the smack down this spring and with Don's help we will be locked and loaded this time around. Dumbell eyes and rabbit strips...a deadly combination.

If you are in the area, you really need to go see River City Fly Shop. When is the last time you had to argue with the guy behind the counter because he was not charging ENOUGH for what you were buying? Happened to me today.

Long live the local fly shop!

Yuck

2012-01-22T14:47:00.001-08:00

It might be a while before I get out fishing. That is the Willamette Falls as of this morning...and the rivers have actually dropped in the past day. Non stop rain outside now though, so expect another spike in levels. I may have to talk myself into a run to the deschutes or crooked.

Flies are done for the swap, in the mail tomorrow. Can't wait to see the results.

A solid start

2012-01-16T22:00:00.001-08:00

Most of my flies fall in the "flies that catch fish, not fisherman" category...these included.

Game time

2012-01-16T20:49:00.001-08:00

Time to start knocking out some flies.

Winter

2012-01-14T09:52:00.001-08:00

Not much going on in terms of fishing right now. I have been busy with work and life. Elia turned 7 on Tuesday, but I was in Chicago and missed the celebratory dinner. Party at jump sky high today, and I am glad to be home to celebrate. My kids are amazing. JJ is so much like me that I feel bad for him at times, I know what it is like to grow up with so much competitive fire you burn nonstop...at five, he struggles with that at times. Elia is just like Kelly, and her first thought is always of others and how to make someone else happy. They are so different, but so wonderful in their own way it is hard to describe. I just love em, and figure everything else will fall into place.

The only fishing related topic going on currently is the staggeringly awesome fly swap that McTage is putting on right now. Check out that list of tiers...I am secretly terrified to turn in one of my hair all hack jobs! Awesome swap McTage, can't wait to see the results.

0 for 2

2012-01-02T20:06:00.001-08:00

My second ever winter steelhead trip is in the books, and i still haven't laid a finger on a steelhead. I did catch a handful of tiny cut throat today, including this one.

Yes, that fish has my goofy green nymph AND a corky in its mouth. Even stranger, I am pretty sure the fish ate my fly while stuck to the bottom of the river by the rig in its mouth. Near as I can tell, someone snagged the bottom and broke off the corky rig. Along came the cut, and ate the snagged up rig, hooking itself in the process. I must have drifted right by the tethered fish, and he ate that nymph too. When I hooked the fish I could see him down there, but I had to pull really hard to get the snag free. Weird.

Despite not catching a steelhead, it was a glorious day. The Oregon coast is stunning, and I spent all day lost in the rainforest. Everything is green, ,mossy, and wet...and it got wetter throughout the day. I was reminded today that there is no substitute for good gear! I fished in pouring rain and some heavy gusts of wind, but with the right gear it was simply a part of the experience. I was never uncomfortable.

The river was still high and off color, but I don't think it was unfishable by any stretch. I had two heart stopping moments when I set the hook, felt a head shake and then nothing. One of those was a definite steelhead...big, heavy throbs on the end of my line. The other might have been a cut, or it might have been a steelhead. Who knows.

Despite getting blanked (again) I am starting to get the fascination with winter steelhead. I really, really want to catch one, but part of the allure is the environment. Such a beautiful, wild, natural setting...when it comes together with a bright, hopefully wild fish I think it will be a special moment. I will keep after them.

Happy New Year!

2011-12-31T19:06:00.001-08:00

So, like most bloggers I had a big year end post in my head, all thoughts and recaps and pictures of the year ready to roll out for your review, but man...I have two kids, a job, a wife and there are never enough hours in a day. I do think this is when a guy should take a minute to reflect, but I do that every day. I think we all probably do. I see carp tailing on gravel flats, reels screaming, friends smiling and tons of other memories when I close my eyes at night, or while on hold with a customer. I think that is why we do what we do.

So, rather than a big, long winded rewind...just the highlights of four big time trips from the year.

The season really opened when Wendy Berrell and Winona Fly Factory came west for a visit in may. Despite flood conditions, we had an epic trip. I could go on and on for hours, but I promised my wife I would be brief. The trip was a success.

Shortly after Justin and Justin left, Mctage showed up for a few days. Trevor benefitted from the extensive water we had covered the week prior, and we found some serious carp.

Next up, Wendy Berrell and I stalked the flats of legendary Lake Michigan. We got blanked the year prior, but this time we nailed it. I remember the numbers...roughly 90 carp and 50 smallies in four days. What a trip!

Lastly, I spent an unforgettable week in Alaska with my dad. What a place, what a trip, and what a great time spent with my dad.

I have to admit, it sure is fun to look at all of these pictures again! Big thanks to my wife and kids for letting me take the above (and so many more) adventures. And a big thanks to everyone who I fished with this year, or talked fishing with, or read about their fishing exploits, etc. 2011 was a great year, here is to more in 2012!

Happy New Year!

Merry Christmas!

2011-12-25T10:58:00.001-08:00

JJ was up at four, ready to go. We managed to hold him off until about 645, then it was a blizzard of wrapping paper and smiling kids.

Merry Christmas to everyone! Friends, family, fisherman...good time of year to remind yourself to stop, look around and be thankful. Give those nearby a hug, and smile at everyone you see. Make joy abound today!

Best wishes to everyone!

Speaking of Tying

2011-12-23T14:41:00.001-08:00

Yeah, that picture has nothing to do with this post, though it is a red copper John I tied once upon a time when I was a respectable trout angler. Anyway, I thought I would put out the idea of a tying get together at my place this winter for any Portland area folks. Might be fun to sit around, talk fishing, look at pictures, lie a bunch and get some production tying done. I still need to whip out a ton of Lake MI flies, and can always refill my staple soft hackle collection.if any one is interested, let me know and I will get an email together and set an evening this winter...

Not My Forte

2011-12-22T16:53:00.001-08:00

I am a very, very poor fly tier. I am not sure when it all went to hell because I learned the basics relatively quickly, and enjoyed it to the point that I became relatively adept and my flies looked like what you could buy in a shop (for the most part) but somewhere along the line I realized that you don't need "shop" flies to catch fish. A down and dirty dubbed brown nymphy looking cat puke fly fished just as well as a perfect pheasant tail with the correct number of tail filaments. It got worse when I started carp fishing. My personal theory is that carp don't see worth a crap when the moment is nigh. The second they are faced with a close encounter with your fly they are as like to miss it as they are to eat it...and I have come to believe those instances are less refusal and more "where in the hell did that bug go?" So I simplified further, and my skills (meager to begin with) melted away.

But I tied today. One fly. Inspired by Jay at Colorado Fishing Reports I grabbed a sculpin head that I had bought a while back but not used. These heads are sweet.

As I look at those beady eyes (glued on with zap a gap, and my fingers are still stuck together) I am envisioning the flats of lake MI. Big, meat eating carp are prowling for gobies and I am chucking monstrous, rabbit strip flies and cackling gleefully as the beastly carp chase them down like smallmouth bass. Throw this sucker at a Columbia River fish and everything within a mile will spook...so Lake MI is on my mind when I finish off my one fly for the day.

Not pretty, but it will fish. Good material (beads, hooks, etc) make a difference in my opinion, but if you want to see what a really good tier can do with really good materials, head on over and check out Jay's work. Absolutely outstanding stuff Jay.

2011-12-18T20:52:00.001-08:00

In my mind, prior to hitting the river this morning I had the title of this post as Chrome. Instead of contemplating pictures of bright, winter fish I spent the drive home trying to figure out when the last time I spent a day fishing without touching a fish. Frankly, it has been a few years since I last felt the dreaded skunk. Streak over I guess. Still, I was out, in the cool air, staring at water. All was well. I say that now, as I have a hunch that the tail end of this post might turn a little bitchy. So for the record...this was a great day, and I am really looking forward to spending more time on the coastal rivers this winter. So...

Things I liked about Winter Steelheading:

1). My new Switch Rod. So in general, when you find a tool perfectly matched to the job at hand it makes doing said job much more enjoyable. That is how I felt about the Echo SR switch. I bought it in a 10 ft 10 inch 7 wt, and that rod is flat out perfect for what I did today..chiefly, nymphing a smallish river. I could fling the flies with ease, mend like a champ, and roll cast in tight conditions better than I ever have in my life. Bottom line is I suck as a fly caster, but the switch is such a tool that even a clutz like me can get the line out, and control it once you are on the drift. I could not be happier with this rod. If I were a dies hard trout guy...I would absolutely own a 4 or 5 wt switch for nymphing.

2). The setting. What can you say about the Oregon Coastal rivers? Someone like the uber talented Erin Block could nail their beauty down in a few simple words...I can't, but I can tell you I was mesmorized throughout. In fact, as a die hard nympher who has been known to talk about how boring swinging flies is...I sort of get it now. When you swing, you can look around...and out there, there is no shortage of beauty. I want to share it with my wife and kids...the fog, the cold, the wet and all the rest of it.

3). The Anticipation. It just looks SO GOOD! Every cast and drift looks like it should end with a steelhead on the line. Sometimes things were so perfect that I just KNEW I would get a strike, and that maddening itch was tremendously enjoyable. Alas...it was still Steelheading and despite the perfection of the water and seamless, switch aided drifts...I just don't think I was on top of fish. Oh well, I never once "fished" like the river was empty. It sure felt alive with possibilities.

Things I Disliked About Winter Steelheading:

1). You don't see the fish. Ironic, I know, since I just mentioned that crazy anticipation...but I am flat out a sight fishing junkie. I bet there are plenty of times a guy gets to sight fish in the coast, but I only saw a couple of moldy old chinook today, and the carp fisherman in me wants a target. Can't help it...I like the hunt even better than the anticipation (though it is all pretty good!). I peered into the water all day for glimpse, but nada today.

2). The crowds. Winter Steelheading is a big deal in OR, and I can see why. Unfortunately, it brings out the crowds. In most cases you can just walk past the crowds and find your own water, but on these small rivers access seems to be an issue (foreshadowing #3 there). Today I struggled to find public access, and when I did there were a bunch of cars already clustered around. I walked to the river and headed downstream, walking past a bunch of guys happily fishing away. A few hundred yards later I found a spot and began two things...fishing and dodging drift boats. The drift boats came down in a never ending parade, and each time I had to step back into the shallows and get out of the travel lane. 99% of the boat guys were great...they passed as close to my bank as possible to avoid floating over any fish, and always said hello. One guy sucked ass though. He passed me, and slide into the hole not 20 ft below me and dropped anchor, leaving me a tiny slice of the drift. I watched for a few minutes, then slogged to shore and walked down to his boat and asked him how far downriver he would like me to go so that I could stay out of his way. He said 100 ft would be cool (ironic since he gave me 20). I dutifully started walking the 100 ft...in fact I was halfway there when I realized he was rowing to catch me. I let him pass, and fished the water in front of me (he anchored up 70 ft away or so). After a while I had worked my way down to his boat, so I reeled up and headed to shore. The second my feet touched dry land...he pulled anchor and rowed to the next good looking slot. This continued the rest of the afternoon...he simply didn't want me touching any of the water ahead of him, and was willing to race me downriver if necessary...I wasn't, so just fished behind him most of the day. Until I came to this:

3). Access. I grew up in Montana, where the rivers (and river beds) belong to the people of the state. Pretty serious bummer to realize that in OR I can't fish the waters of certain rivers. And yes, the OFC can kiss my ass. I don't think I should have to pay dues to put my feet in the river. I am not talking about crossing private lands, walking through fields or backyards, but where I grew up, once you are in the river, you can go where you want without threat of a $1000 fine. Bottom line...it sucked. I walked to get away from the crowds, had a drift boat race me downriver only to come to this sign and have to turn back around. Come to find out later, I had ALREADY gone past the public area. As I walked back up river a bunch of guys I had walked past earlier told me the landowner had come down and told them to leave. I do realize this is totally my fault...my responsibility to know where I was, but I honestly had no clue I had gone past the public area. I crossed no fences, saw no signs etc. Overall, this was pretty frustrating as despite not agreeing with the law, I still intended to abide by it. Near as I could tell, the "public" area (not really public, you paid $1 into a can to walk across the guys field) was only a few hundred yards long and full of people. I drove upriver and stopped at some well used spots here and there...hoping that they were indeed public based on the well worn trails to the river. This was disheartening. Waters should be public.

Again, I don't want this post to be negative. Yes, I got skunked for the first time in years. Yes, I dealt with a jackass in a driftboat, and yes, I disagree with the BS trespassing laws around rivers in this state, but for most of the day none of that mattered. I was in a beautiful place, with a fly rod in my hand. I can't wait to do it again.

Seriously...some time out here and you could easily start to believe in Bigfoot. Anything could hide in that stuff.

Tippet?

2011-12-14T19:01:00.001-08:00

I general, I use 1x tippet for all my carp fishing. I like to be able to horse them in I guess. I am wondering if going to a lower X flouro would result in more hook ups...any opinions?

Fishpond Rocks

2011-12-12T16:54:00.001-08:00

I am a big fan of their gear (this would be their fourth product that I own) so winning one of their giveaways this week was awesome. They sent a cools sticker too, but before I could slap that sucker on my jeep Elia had snatched it to decorate her room!

Thanks Fishpond! Awesome pack!

My New Stick

2011-12-11T16:06:00.001-08:00

You simply can't go wrong with an Echo. This year, rather than let cabin fever set in I am going to chase some coastal fish. I am not really into swinging heavy stuff on the big rivers, but smaller water, seams, nymphs and a new 10 ft 10 inch switch rod seems to be the recipe for avoiding the shack nasties while I wait for spring. Who knows...I might actually catch something.

By the way...I simply can't say enough good things about Don and River City Fly Shop. Don has been my go to guy for a few years now and if you live in the Portland area and love fly fishing, you simply owe it to yourself to stop in and say hello. Best shop around.

Now all I need is someoneto show me how to catch these goofy winter fish on the coast. Any volunteers? I can't cast worth a shit but I always buy lunch.

Elia

2011-12-10T10:38:00.001-08:00

She just screams Portland. I think that is a good thing.

And credit where credit is due...JJ knows how to relax.

Over on Facebook

2011-12-10T10:24:00.001-08:00

Fishpond is having another contest. I got a win earlier this week thanks to that way to cute daughter of mine, but it is time to try for more. The contest is for the biggest fish you caught this year. There are some sturgeon and other gear caught pics up, so I hope they stick with fly caught only, but overall there are some sweet fish pics on that thread. Check it out:

https://www.facebook.com/fishpond.usa

So, what to put up? My banner fish I caught with Mctage? A true beast at 31 lbs...this fish was a literal beer keg in my hands.

Or this Alaskan monster like...special because it was virtually incidental which speaks to just how insane the state of Alaska really is.

Either way, check out the thread on Facebook for some sweet pictures.

And one more plug for St Jude's! Click the link and donate away people!

http://www.mystjudeevent.org/jbartlett

Every $10, $25, $50, or $100 donation goes to the kids! Skip one trip to the fly shop and you can make a difference!

2011-12-08T18:54:00.001-08:00

This time of year often abounds with various fundraisers, and rightly so. It is a time to reflect on family and friends and be thankful for all that we have. This year, my employer has pledged to raise $100,000 for the St Jude's Children's Research Hospital. As a cause, it is tough to pick a better one for a parent to get behind. Please take a moment to look at their website and hopefully donate to this wonderful place. To do so, simply click on this link.

St Jude's donation page.

This goofy blog that I have so much fun writing has a little over 200 followers (a shocking number to me frankly). If everyone donated just a small amount, we could make a difference.

Tight lines and happy holidays!

The Deschutes

2011-12-04T20:21:00.001-08:00

If you haven't fished the Deschutes, you need to put it on your list. It is hard to explain, but there is just something about winding down into the canyon to hunt for those hard fighting redsides. It is a special river, and fishing it on the immediate heels of the Crooked added some flavor. The two rivers couldn't be more different. The Crooked is small, with grayish tinged waters and an intimate feel. I spent the late afternoon on the crooked swinging soft hackles and could cover the entire river with ease. The Deschutes is big...a brawler with huge heavy currents and deep ledges and pockets. Near Mecca the river has a different character but around Maupin (where we fished today) the D is a brute.

I beat Coleman, Chris, and Scott to the water this morning and was standing knee deep in a riffle fighting redside when Coleman showed up to say hello. I hooked the fish in my third cast. The rest of the day wasn't quite as easy, but for a December day things were beautiful. I worked the pockets with a size 14 pink squirrel and size 18 pheasant tail, and the fish came at semi regular intervals. I landed maybe a dozen trout and four whitefish, with the big key being to take the time to regulate my weight. The D is awash in ledges and pockets and you need to be on your toes and keep adding or taking lead off your rig to keep the nymphs in the strike zone. When I got things right, I was usually rewarded with some strikes.

No one caught anything huge today, probably topping out at around 15 inches but even the little guys like the one above leap and fight like no other trout. That is the only fish picture I took, my camera was out of battery all day and taking pictures of fish with an IPhone is a nightmare.

Two more items about today. First, I fished my Echo 2 six weight and that is quite simply one of the best rods I own. Just a fantastic rod. Second, hard to explain how great it was to be walking the tracks of the Deschutes with Scott, Chris and Coleman. Time certainly flies by and we have all watched each other's families grow and prosper. I enjoyed the conversations on the tracks as much as the fishing. What better place to catch up with friends than on a river?

Same Fish?

2011-12-03T21:39:00.001-08:00

With my wife out of town I am catching up on some blogs. Fontinalis Rising just caught two fish on consecutive days that may have been the same fish...reminded me of these two:

I weighed this fish at the time (21 lbs according to my log), took the picture and kept fishing. A few hours later, and about a mile away I caught this guy.

Again, weighed the fish and took a picture. When I got home and was writing things down and looking at pictures I realized it was the same fish.

Who says carp are smart?

The Crooked

2011-12-03T18:43:00.001-08:00

In general, I prefer fish that you have to see to catch, fish that are measured in lbs not inches, and fish that get your backing dirty. But as I have said before, there is a certain magic in nymphing. That split second when you know an unseen fish ate your fly but you don't know why you know...you just lift the rod and feel it bend to the cork.

It was nice to be back in the saddle today.

The Crooked is a fun little river. You don't go to the Crooked to catch big trout, but at over 3000 fish per mile, you pretty much know you are going to catch a lot of trout. There really isn't much to it. The trout are everywhere, so you just get you flies in the water and let nature take over. I have fished the crooked three times, and today was the least amount of fish that I have caught there, but I still landed enough fish to have no clue how many I landed. That is always a good sign. I was rusty, but the magic of nymphing came back eventually. Late in the day I cut the nymphs off and went to a double soft hackle rig. There were some midges hatching but no rises, so I figured a swung soft hackle might be the ticket. I waded to the middle of the river and cast first at one bank, then the other...letting the fly swing to the center of the river, then stepping down to repeat the process. It was a simple, easy motion that let me stare at the canyons walls and feel the cold air on my hands. The only interruption from the gentle pull of the river against my flyline was the rap, rap, rap of a trout smacking the wet fly. Many trout succumbed to the venerable wilted spinach.

Tomorrow, the Deschutes.

Suggestions?

2011-11-29T16:49:00.001-08:00

I have not one, but two wide open days this weekend. My wife and kids are going to MN and due to a business trip on Monday, I am staying behind. The silver lining is that I have Saturday and Sunday to fish.

I am coming to realize how out of touch I am with the local "regular" fishing world. I know I could hit the Deschutes, maybe the Metolius or poke around for winter steelhead, but overall...I am kind of at a loss. The crooked is a nice option since I could crash in a cheap hotel and get enough time in to make it worth the drive. Anyone have any suggestions for a guy that has gotten so lost in the carping world he owns no split shot and realizes he might actually have to buy some trout nymphs or steelhead flies?

Meat Eaters

2011-11-20T17:04:00.001-08:00

The classic reads about fly fishing for carp (Carp On The Fly by Barry Reynolds and Carp Are Gamefish Too by George Von Schroeder) depict carp primarily as meat eating marauders. Von Schroeder actually fishes large jigs. Fishing the Columbia and Willamette rivers have given me a different take on carp altogether. Don't get me wrong...I do catch them on large crayfish patterns, but for the most part the forage out here seems to be primarily nymphs and clams...the fish quite simply do not have to work hard for food. They don't like to chase.

And that is the beauty of lake Michigan. The carp out there are meat eaters; they hunt in packs and aggressively pursue large gobie or crayfish patterns. On lake Michigan it is not a matter of "detecting the take" but instead a matter of hanging onto your rod. With another spring run to the Mecca of bass-like carp planned for this spring, it is time to tie up some meat.

I tend to stick to simple patterns for two reasons. One, a conscious effort to simplify my fly selection paid big dividends this spring (soft hackles in various colors and I am a good to go). And two, I am a crappy tier. This spring will see Wendy Berrell and I stalking the flats of lake Michigan armed with dozens of rabbit stripped monstrosities, eyes peeled for the dark shapes of predatory carp. I cannot wait.

How long until spring again?

Travel Fishing

2011-11-19T15:52:00.001-08:00

If you are looking for some recommendations for New Zealand or Alaska fishing, check out Fly Fishing Consultants. Brad Kastner was one of my favorite guides on my Alaska trip, a real pleasure to fish with Brad. We spent a ton of time talking about New Zealand...one day I will fish with Brad out there! Check it out and drop him a line if you are looking for a fishing adventure...

College Basketball!

2011-11-12T09:18:00.001-08:00

Finally! The season is here.

I DVRed both the Duke/Belmont game and the Gonzaga/EWU gams and watched them late last night. Duke beat a TOUGH Belmont team (NCAA team last year, ten players back) and GU beat EWU in a crappy game. Neither of my teams looked great...could be a long season!

WFF's First Carp

2011-11-09T18:45:00.001-08:00

Thank god for good cameras and a relatively stable memory. I must go through my pictures several times a week in the offseason. What a day this was...

I really need to go fishing.

It is all about the average

2011-11-05T17:30:00.001-07:00

And looking through my pictures from this year I realize how lucky I am to say this.

Just your average Columbia river carp.

Is it spring yet?

The Spin Move

2011-10-31T16:55:00.001-07:00

That's my boy. At times I feel bad for the little bugger; he has my full on competitive nature, but at 5 doesn't know how to handle it (at 36 I have my moments too). It is awfully fun to watch him run around on the football field though...I am pretty sure he turned to look back and talk a little trash in that last picture. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree!

2011-10-29T20:16:00.000-07:00

Having some motivation issues. Thought about going tomorrow, but came up with a million reasons not too. The real reason? I have zero chance of spotting, stalking and catching anything like this tomorrow.

That was a bad ass fish Wendy. And I am already dreaming of spring.

Wendy Berrell and the micro

2011-10-24T21:39:00.001-07:00

Dug up this old Wendy Berrell post while chatting with Mctage. Check it out...

http://fishingandthinking.blogspot.com/2007_05_01_archive.html

Wendy tells a far better tale than I, but I stole some of these pics without his permission. He'll forgive me if enough of you check out his blog.

Go check out his tale from 2007. Monster carp on the micro rod...

Wendy's Blog is always a good read.

2011-10-23T12:12:00.000-07:00

Waiting with the kids to see Blue Man Group. Looking at pictures. Man what a fish!

Outdoor Blogger Network

2011-10-21T18:52:00.001-07:00

Happy one year anniversary to Outdoor Blogger Network ! If you haven't checked them out, you should. Great place to find cool blogs. If you are a blogger, sign up and join the fun...they do a ton of great gear reviews and it is nice to have such an active community of outdoor bloggers.

End of season blues

2011-10-20T20:20:00.001-07:00

They have sunk in out for me. I have been pretty busy, and with the sun being tired (as Mr. P says) and the water being cold my carping will be reduced to local ponds until spring. It makes me a little (a lot actually) sad. It was a great season.

Most years I am relatively content to tie flies, watch basketball and wait for spring. I usually make a Deschutes run in late winter, but for the most part...I hang out at home. This year, I hope to do more of this.

Feb. blue winged olive red side...not a huge fish, but they are awfully pretty. I am thinking I will do more of this too...

Late fall Clackamas steelhead. I haven't swung flies in a while, but the coho in Alaska woke that desire up again. I am looking forward to some cold, rainy, misty steelhead mornings swinging flies for fish a lot brighter than this one was. I also think I will do some of this...

Sight fishing to bull trout on the Metolius. Personally, I love the boots and think they are a cool fish. It will be good to get reacquainted this winter.

I am hoping for an interesting off season!

No go today

2011-10-16T18:30:00.001-07:00

I actually got in the jeep, drove as far as the nearest Starbucks and instead of grabbing coffee and hitting the road, I sat in the parking lot for a few minutes and listened to the radio. Then I drove home and put all of my gear away. Truth be told, I just wanted to hang with the kids and wife. So I did. We ran errands and dinked around the house. I gave both kids baths and carried JJ around on my shoulders. It was a nice day. No fishing, no fly shops.

But, since this is (technically) a fly fishing blog...here are some bass from a few weeks ago. It has to be said...bass are dumb. I fished in the pouring rain with wooly buggers and goofy looking flies and caught a ton of these little suckers. I had one bigger (15 inches?) bass leap and throw the hook, but for the most part all I caught were these little guys. Neat water though...small stream, wadeable, and all the bass were in the tailouts. Pretty neat tromping around a river, flinging flies and catching bass. I plan to do more of this next year now that the kids are relatively proficient with their ultralight spinning rods. The best part of this day...I got hammered by rain. It was awesome. When a guy is geared up properly, waders and jacket on, layers done just right...fishing in the rain rocks.

My season is over

2011-10-09T20:43:00.001-07:00

I was fortunate enough to fish with Brian from The Haddis Catch today, and frankly, we agonized over where to go and what to chase. The plethora of options available to an angler in OR in the fall is a little overwhelming. The trout fishing is great, steelhead abound, salmon swim in the rivers, and sea run cuts can be caught near the coast. With all of those options in prime condition...we chose a 50/50 shot at carp instead. It was about what I expected (but not what I talked myself into thinking it would be). We saw some fish, but not in the numbers nor in the locations I usually find the fish. The biggest issue was the weather. Fall is here in OR, and with it comes clouds, and some rain. We fished the bulk of the day with no sun, and a good chunk of the day with dark, ominous clouds. And yes, we got rained on...but we still found some fish.

This bad boy was the first fish we landed but not the first we hooked. She tipped the scales at just over 20 lbs...a great way to end the season! We hooked a total of 7 fish, and landed two. I lost three fish to the weed beds, one to an extremely dull hook, and landed one other fish in the 9-11 lb range. Brian had one solid hookup, but he set the hook one way just as the carp (15 lb range) sprinted the other way...I heard the line snap from thirty feet away.

Despite tough visibility and a rough time actually landing fish, it was a rewarding day. I enjoyed fishing with Brian and we had enough "holy shit did you see that" moments to carry us through. I have to say this too...we saw some absolute monster carp. Brian had the misfortune of snagging a rock as a real bruiser (25-30 lb range) turned to follow his fly. Another three seconds without hooking that rock and Brian would have had something that could pull back.

We closed the day (and my season) fishing in a downpour. A mist came through, the rain fell hard and we squinted into the deluge looking for carp. A fitting way to close things down. How many months until spring?

Check out the size of that tail. Carp are awesome.

I miss carp

2011-10-08T15:33:00.001-07:00

Might get one more semi decent outing in...maybe. Water temps are falling fast.

Final thoughts

2011-10-04T22:06:00.001-07:00

At heart, I am a carp guy. I like the method, the sight fishing, the heat and sun and shallow water but there is simply no place like Alaska. We haven't managed to screw that place up yet (fight the Pebble Mine!) and Alaska is a treasure.

To see such a place with my dad is well beyond any words I can conjure. I have no pictures to explain what it was like to see him smile, not because of a fish or setting or bear, but because I was smiling. I smiled a lot. I took it in and I exhaled and was not shy in exclaiming or commenting on what was around me. I acted like a kid that I really am, and my dad did the same. You would be hard pressed to find two people more suited to enjoy that experience, and enjoy watching each other enjoy it. I got the impression that a lot of people go to Alaska to use it. We did our best to appreciate it instead. Maybe I am crazy, but it felt right.

When we returned to the lodge on the last day, a feast awaited us all. We sat down to steak and fantastic food...we laughed and looked at pictures and told stories. As dinner ended, my exhausted (but elated) dad went to bed. I looked around at a room full of guides and clients and good conversation and did the right thing. I snuck outside, put on my waders and went to stand in the river one last time. In true storybook fashion, I landed grayling after grayling as the lodge guests started a bonfire that overlooked the river. I stood a few hundred yards away with my boots in the gravel and a fly rod in my hand. I caught grayling as the sun went down and walked back to the lodge with only the light of the campfire as my guide. The trip ended for me there on the river...a size 16 elk haired caddis stuck in the lips of a 19 inch grayling...my feet and legs cold, my fingers wet, my eyes wide open and my heart full.

Thanks for an unforgettable trip dad.

Day seven

2011-10-01T17:37:00.001-07:00

Dinner on the eve of the big pike was a strange event. The general mood was elation...along with my big pike the group had landed 30 and 29 inch rainbows that day. Some truly memorable fish! But everyone knew we had but one day left. Debate raged at all the tables...where to spend the last day on Alaskan waters. My dad seemed to have his mind made up on this one. He was bound and determined to show me the Mountain Lakes and their beauty...a place I was nearly guaranteed to catch a "nuclear" char of staggering colors, but when Pat sat down at our table I leaned over and said:

"Pat, my dad loves to catch big coho. Take us coho fishing tomorrow."

There was little discussion after that...someday I will go back and see those mountain lakes and catch those brightly colored char...but my dad loves to catch big coho. So that is what we did.

When the float plane landed, we jumped out and rigged up ready to go. I nearly caused a major delay because Brad mentioned that they occasionally catch flounders right where we were, so of course I started frantically peppering the area behind the float plane with casts. Eventually, they reeled me in the boat and we were off for another amazing day.

We flung pink and purple leeches...heavy flies that sank quickly and were made entirely of rabbit fur. They undulate and move in the water and the aggressive coho can't resist them. Many of the takes were visual...we would watch the fly as we drifted, swung, or stripped it through the water column and a big coho would bust from the pack like a wolf on the prowl. The fish would close on the fly almost casually and then simply inhale the bug with one big chomp.

My dad and Brad stopped for lunch, and of course I kept fishing. By this point I was really concentrating on the feel of the thing. Standing in the river is much more preferable than fishing from a boat. I could feel the push of the cold, fast water against my legs. My boots dug into the clean gravel and the weight of the line in the water was tangible. If I concentrated and kept my mind blank I swear I could feel the water rushing through the marabou of the fly...pushing against the dumbbell eyes and making the fur dance. I would strip and move the fly, reveling in the sensations and then everything would come tight. Not a jolt or a "hit" as we always say...simply a tightening...drive the hook home with a strip set and the chrome rockets would blast upriver. A veritable smorgasbord of sensations that beats lunch any day in my opinion.

As my dad and brad finished lunch and drifted by me, Brad handed me a sandwich. I took a big bite and watched my dad working the run from the boat as brad walked him downriver. Then a salmon rolled in front of me. I looked around...waist deep in a river, sandwich in hand and salmon rolling. I chomped off another bite, set the sandwhich on my hat and made a cast. Priorities.

We caught fish all day. We caught fish in every run. We caught fish stripping flies, we caught fish swinging flies, we caught fish dead drifting flies. We even caught several fish stripping flies downstream (an apparently ineffective technique) including this awesome dolly varden.

The day was everything I had hoped it would be. My dad loves to catch big coho...and he caught a ton of them.

Day six

2011-09-28T16:20:00.001-07:00

Day six dawned white and surreal. Fog covered the river and we couldn't see to the far shore from the lodge...it was quickly apparent that the float planes might not be in our plans today. Being an odd year, no pink salmon ran up this river so the big rainbows were few and far between, and in short order all five boats would be plying the waters looking for rainbows. We made a quick run downriver, threw some huge leeches, and then gave up on the bows. It wasn't that the fish weren't there, it was more that my dad and I just didn't want to work for them. not a ton of fun slinging this stuff in the cold fog.

When I clipped that sucker off my line, I had no idea that a few hours later I would be begging Duane to dig that fly out of his fly box.

Instead of slinging lead and hunting solitary bows...we took it easy. We boated up to a little pocket of water and pulled over. My dad and Duane sat in the boat and chatted about railroading etc...me...I caught a coho.

This prompted my dad to get out his rod and start throwing some flies around, but by the time he did, I landed another. Then another...in short order my dad got in on the action with a fish...I promptly hooked up for the double shot.

The coho were thick, right on the edge of that little seam in the pictures, but after ripping some fish out of there, they closed their mouths. I switched to my six weight, tied on a dry fly and started walking upriver, catching grayling every few casts. My dad followed after with similar success. The grayling in alaska are just insane. I could have quite easily caught grayling all day long but after an hour or two I walked back to the boat and grabbed my seven weight. Duane and my dad were content to chat, but I figured the coho would be ready to go again...and they were.

The day took on a relaxed, vacation like atmosphere. I would casually catch a coho (or grayling!) on the pink leech, then walk a few feet away and catch a bunch of grayling on dry flies for 30 minutes. After a rest...I would catch another coho. In one spot, I landed 10 coho, my dad 4 and Duane one while trying out some casts with my dads switch rod. I never attempted to keep track of the grayling...many.

Sated and relaxed, we decided to head up through the rapids and go for a boat ride to check out the big lake. Zipping along with Jake sitting next to me I was once again struck by the size of Alaska. Miles of terrain unfolded around me, no power lines or lights...just two grizzly bears roaming a flood plain near an incoming creek. Amazing. We motored slowly into a shallow bay, all of my fisherman's instincts going off like alarm bells...with good reason. Standing on the bow of the boat, I could see fish darting away as we rode through the shallows. A few sightings and I was able to turn to Duane and my dad and say excitedly: "Pike!"

A few minutes later, we were re-rigged with the previous monstrous black leech and the heaviest tippet we could muster. I stalked the shallows on foot, booming casts out into the bay...waiting. Then I saw it...as my extremely visible black leech slid through the water a silver bullet shot towards the fly from ten feet away and slammed into the leech. You just have to love pike on the fly.

We hooted and hollered and caught small pike throughout the bay, watching missiles fly towards our leeches from ten to fifteen feet away. At one point a pike engulfed my leech from behind, severing the twenty lb tippet so cleanly that I never felt an ounce of resistance...water wolves indeed. Then, I spotted a monster fish. It was only two rod lengths away, laying in wait like a crocodile. I yelled to my dad and directed his leech right past the jaws of this fish...twice...with no take. Rather than risk a third cast with the same color, I flipped my five inch long pink leech at the monster...gills flared, and I set the hook.

This was a huge fish, but in the shallow water the battle didn't last long. In short order I had the fish wallowing in six inches of water, too big to do more than roll around. My dad and I were stunned. Duane joined us after securing the boat and we took some pictures of what will likely be the largest pike I will ever catch. We taped the fish at 42 inches long...and FAT. What a fish!

The boat ride home was sweet.

Day five

2011-09-25T19:03:00.001-07:00

Even in Alaska...there are places that get a ton of fishing pressure. On day five we hit such a river, in the hopes of landing a 30 inch rainbow. In short order I went from being the "world's greatest flyfisherman" to a total novice. The big river crushed me, humbled me, and yet...I loved it.

We fished an area called the braids, and the character here was amazing. This is a massive river that pours out of lake Iliamna and is home to the worlds largest salmon run, but the big river is broken up into so many channels that a guy could easily get lost. There are small channels and big channels and tons of places for a big rainbow to sit and eat salmon eggs. The current is deceptive...running deep and strong so we fished with long leaders, heavy lead and in my case, no indicators. Gone are the wooded edges and tree covered slopes...instead, the braids are a maze of grass and water. Quite simply an amazing place.

We moved along in the boat, looking for ledges and drop offs below sockeye, places the big bows could lurk out of that current and eat the drifting salmon eggs. We found such spots, but I never found my rhythm. Truthfully...my dad easily out fished me on this day. I could point out the fact that he was in the back of the boat and therefore the first through every hole (true) or I could point out the fact that our guide Pat like to see my dad out fish me (also true) but basically...my dad is a bad ass nymph fisherman. Give him a subsurface fly and put him in a river and he will catch fish. He beat on me pretty good this day (oh yeah...he had an 11 ft switch rod too...last excuse for me!)

One thing about the big river...those trout kick ass. We had one fish leap out of the water and hit the side of the boat from about six feet away...mere inches from actually landing in the boat. Another trout my dad hooked (of course) jumped straight put of the water and was easily higher than our heads as we sat in the boat. I will never forget that leap...a silver, gleaming rainbow so pale they look like salmon flying through the air and crashing back into the clear, cold water. Dad lost that fish but who cares...what a moment.

All in all this was the toughest day of our trip, but I was content. I watched my dad show me how it was done. I stood on the bow of the jet boat as we zoomed around the braids, holding the bow rope and calling out to Pat when I spotted a "holy shit" fish. I saw salmon, chum and sockeye, and I caught some trout and ate a sandwich. Who could complain?

Oh, and back at the lodge, after dinner...I suited back up and whacked the grayling as the sun went down. Another unforgettable day with my dad.

JJ

2011-09-24T17:13:00.001-07:00

Turning the corner:

See ya!

Day four

2011-09-22T16:25:00.001-07:00

I wrote this after a day of coho fishing. I was sitting by myself in the main lodge, having just caught another bundle of grayling. I was warm, had a cup of tea and a cookie in front of me and I was very, very happy. Thanks again for such a memorable trip dad.

Silver salmon. Coho. Chromers and sea lice, bucks and hens, kypes and leaps and death rolls. Skated dry flies. Chuck and duck streamers, wakes and bear tracks.

Sick, sick fishing. My shoulders ache from both throwing a heavily weighted pink marabou monstrosity, and from fighting coho in the 10-16 lb range. My dad is already in bed, exhausted from the same. At one point Scott looked over at us and said "is that the fifth or sixth double you guys have had?". We hadn't left the first run yet. Leaping salmon are burned in my mind, similar to the line burn on my fingers. One of my knuckles is bleeding from a solid crack by a spinning reel and the image of fly line ripping off the surface as a salmon races upriver is locked in my mind forever.

But despite numbers of huge coho that defy reason or attempts to pin down, one image series will never be forgotten. Popping dry fly coho.

Late in the day, sated and feeling good I tied on Scott's goofy looking foam and marabou popper. I walked down the middle of a run, quartering the cast downstream and letting the fly swing and wake...popping to create extra disturbance every second or so. After twenty or thirty casts I started laughing out loud at the absurdity of it all...popping what was essentially a bass bug over the tops of dozens of coho that were readily eating a lead eyed streamer. What was I doing? As nice as it was to be throwing something that weighed less than a small person, I had just walked halfway down a run without a hit...ten minutes without hooking a fish felt like an eternity! Fortunately, I kept casting while laughing and on about cast 40 or so it happened. A big boil appeared about 8 ft behind the fly, and then a wake started following. I started saying "oh, oh, oh" over and over again as the bulge of water kept coming, but I kept popping and swinging that fly. After what seemed like a mile of river (and likely took 5 seconds or so which really is a long time) the fish reached the fly and a big black gummed mouth opened up and simply engulfed that popping, goofy ass bass fly. I waited until I felt the weight of the fish and then drove the hook home with a vengeance and the fish exploded in typical coho style.

Just a crazy, inexplicable thing.

Just another day in Alaska.

2011-09-20T18:38:00.000-07:00

Quite possibly the most insane day of fishing in my entire life. There have been times in my fishing life that I felt like a horrible angler (cough, learning to carp fish, cough) and there have been times when I felt I had finally figured this fly rod game out. On this day and on this river, anyone (and I do mean anyone) would have felt like an all star. Basically, if you could get your fly into the water, you could catch a fish. Thinking back, we hooked at least one fish while taking photos and my dad actually attempted three roll casts unsuccessfully...because his fly was stuck in a fish. There were other boats on the river, and I don't recall one instance of looking at a boat without seeing at least one of the two anglers hooked up to a fish. It was so ridiculous and insane that partway through the day our guide Tyler said to me, "ok...no more blind fishing for you. You need to spot a fish and call your shot the rest of the day."

That barely slowed me down.

Oh, and we are not talking about tiny fish here. Check out this bow:

The bulk of the fish were arctic char, which had me really excited. I was hoping to catch a big one and I caught several in the 25 inch range, with my biggest char measuring 26.5 inches long. Char are awesome fish...they bulldog deep and pull hard and in the heavy current it was a battle to bring a fish to the net.

To top off what was just a crazy, silly, obscene day of fishing...we landed here:

Alaska is simply beautiful, and being there, looking around knowing that no power lines mar the horizon, no concrete pushes aside the grass and no exhaust fumes poison the air is indescribable. Plus, you get to fish.

The method was the same as our prior day, but different. Bigger river, more salmon, more current...basically the entire river was a broad, knee to waist deep riffle covered in salmon. Back at the lodge Pat told me they get about 500,000 spawning sockeye in that river, and most of them spawn in the top half mile or so. I believe it. The river was carpeted in salmon, and the rainbow and char were just stacked up eating eggs.

The trick was to cast right on top of the salmon. You wanted the bead to be too high in the water column to bump or snag a salmon, but drop into position within a foot or two of the salmon's tail. If you did it right, you hooked a fish. With so many salmon in the river, you had to steer around them quite a bit...the trout and char were basically everywhere the salmon weren't. So much life.

We had our first bear sighting as well. Our poor guide Tyler had been hinting about lunch for quite a while. In fact, I was literally speeding to hook fish quickly so he couldn't pull us to shore...then we saw the bear eating lunch in our spot. Worked out for me...

The day ended too soon. Out of nowhere our float plane cruised by overhead, and we zipped up the river to head off to the lodge. We got back with sore arms and big smiles...

After a huge dinner, I went back out for another bundle of grayling.

I just reread this post...and first off, my apologies for the general suckiness and lack of direction and structure. Pretty poor piece of writing but as I reflect on that day, it fits. Day two was a mass of chaos and bent rods, fish being hooked and lines getting twisted. I kept leaping out of the boat to fight a fish or stalk a big gray shadow I saw just out of range, we took random pictures of random fish...I don't have a clue which fish were the really big ones. The entire day was a big jumble, much like the crappy post above...I will just leave it at that. It still makes me smile.

Day two

2011-09-16T20:20:00.001-07:00

I am a bit of a wuss when it comes to airplanes and boats...basically I get sick. So on the morning of day two I was stuck with a crazy rush of excitement and a horrible feeling because I had been told this would be our longest flight. We crabbed our way into a headwind and I did my best to avoid puking while staring out the window at the Alaskan wilderness. Eventually, we circled in to land on a tiny lake and as the plane got lower, I could see salmon splashing up a small creek. Sickness forgotten.

We hopped out of the plane, rigged up our six weights and jumped in the small jet boat. Shortly, we were rocketing up river and all I could see were salmon. There were red salmon everywhere...pushing up the ruffles, sprinting from the boat, dead on the bank and half eaten by bears on the shore. Never have I seen such a vivid combination of death and life and future life in one place. I was staggered by it all.

We pulled up on a gravel bar and Brad, our guide for the day put my dad in a spot to blind fish below a riffle. Brad could tell I was stunned and overwhelmed and he patiently explained all that lay before me. As I relaxed, focussed and began to take in the small pieces rather than the whole the rainbow trout appeared as if from nowhere. Grey ghosts flitting in and out of the bright red salmon, white mouths flashing on pale pink eggs. Now and again a brief and violent tussle would occur as the territorial sockeye would bite and snap at the silky smooth rainbows. I was entranced, but as interesting as this activity was, at heart I am a hunter. I could see my targets and it didn't take long for me to slip into predator mode and start targeting some fish. In moments...my dad and I were on the fish.

Nymphing is something I have always enjoyed and I have never been one to have an issue fishing with or without an indicator. it came back to me quickly, and my dad has long been a deadly nymph fisherman. We flat out hammered the trout. For the most part, I preferred spotting my targets first, but dad would simply find a good drift below a salmon and hook up in moments. I would peer into the water waiting to spot the grey bows as they darted and fed and then float a fly right into their lane. I set the hook on movement and color, and was rewarded with speed and acrobatics. All day long we saw fish fly through the air and salmon scatter as the line and trout cut through the river. Simply amazing fishing.

Late in the day Brad and my dad stopped for lunch. I stood nearby in a tailout and caught fish after fish while smelling the hot soup and coffee. Brad then took me on top of a thirty foot cliff for a better view of the river and I immediately spotted a large group of suckers near the base of the cliff. True to who I am I got all excited and threw more than a few casts at those elusive suckers...according to Brad I might be his only client ever to try to catch a sucker in Alaska! While standing on the cliff, I did manage to drift an egg pattern in front of a feeding bow and Brad quickly scrambled down the cliff to net the fish.

The day continued in such epic fashion, something that by lunchtime was utterly predictable. I stood in the middle of a long run laughing out loud with my dad above me in the boat. Literally every salmon I could see had a rainbow sitting behind it...and I could see countless salmon.

The flight home didn't seem as long. Maybe it was the tailwind, or the movies playing in my mind...maybe it was just the fishing. We landed at the lodge and stepped inside to a fresh and wonderful salmon dinner. As the crew sat around and told stories of the day I slipped outside and back into my waders. Brad spotted me gearing up and made a joke about me being "hardcore" but the truth was at that moment I had two choices. One, join what truly was a great group of people telling stories and reliving the day...or two, go make some more memories. Easy choice despite the rain and cold waders.

35-40 grayling later I was back inside. My hands cradled a warm cup of tea and my eyes were closed as I listened to the silence of the Alaskan night. My eyes were closed...but I could see plenty.

The Royal Coachman Lodge-day one

2011-09-15T17:02:00.001-07:00

It is hard to describe the sheer size and scope of Alaska. Flying in on the bigger planes into Anchorage and then Dillingham the scope of the state was striking, but riding in a Dehavallind Beaver takes that perspective and makes you realize...well, that you didn't know the half of it. Tundra and lakes roll away as far as you can see. Trees dot the horizons, rivers snake through the land, some looking like skinny strings of water, others raging in a torrent. The Beaver flies low enough that you can see the contours and bends, and you can imagine yourself walking those gravel bottoms and listening to nothing but the wind. It is big country, and at some point the lack of roads simply staggers you.

My first cast into an Alaskan river was hurried...rushed actually. I was simply dying to get a fly in the river. We waded into position in front of the lodge to fish for an hour or so prior to dinner. It was evident that the guides and the experienced clients were not taking this evening's session seriously, this wasn't why they had come but as always with me, I was focussed. I had to force myself to calm down simply to keep from madly scrambling ahead of the two guys leading the way. Grayling rose all over the big gravel tai out in front of us, but despite the splashes and dotted rise forms all around, I could see the exact spot that I wanted to cast a fly. The guide put us into position (with me as far from the spot I wanted as I could be) and the four of us started flinging caddis patterns at the rising grayling. My cast was rushed, and total crap. I pulled the fly in and made a show of checking my dry dropper rig, but in reality I just needed a breath. As I looked at my flies and concentrated on my breathing a couple of the guys hooked up, and Tyler hollered at me to head farther up the bar...right to the spot I had been eyeballing since our plane circled to land at the lodge.

Wading into position, I couldn't see anything rising like I had seen on the tailout, but the river turned here and formed a "not quite" back eddy. Just enough flow to create a calm bucket in the midst of the heavy flow. Finally relaxed and breathing like a normal person, I made my cast and stacked some line to get a nice drift in the strange currents. The elk haired caddis floated for 3 or 4 seconds, and a 16 inch grayling leapt out of the beautiful Alaskan water, and as it turned downward for the river it engulfed my fly. I landed the fish, and took a long moment to admire this rare beauty. Then I kept casting...and kept landing fish. A while later my dad joined me and the bucket continued to produce...fish after fish. All told I must have landed 35-40 grayling, all on an elk haired caddis that now has a place of honor embedded in my hat.

As introductions to Alaska go, this was a good one. Later that night my dad went to bed, tired from the day and thinking of tomorrow. I stayed up and watched the river. Day one was at an end.

Back home

2011-09-12T20:51:00.001-07:00

Nothing in the world like having your kids charge you as you exit the terminal. My heart nearly stopped.

Many reports to follow, but for now, just know that Alaska is simply amazing. A few pics...

I might have a "little" more to say about this pike. What a pig!

The coho were amazing. My dad couldn't get enough.

This picture just screamed Alaska to me.

More to come, rainbows, dolly varden, arctic char, sockeye salmon, pike, coho...and grayling. Tons and tons of grayling.

Glad to be home!

Memories

2011-09-11T17:29:00.001-07:00

So much to say about this trip, and over the next few weeks I will likely put a lot of those words down here. But for now, I just want to make sure to thank my mom and dad for this trip. When my dad went last year with his friends and told me all about it, I had no clue we would be up there together just a year later. Things worked out for him to take me up here and I can't say thank you enough. Big thanks also to my wife and two fantastic kids. Truth be told, I miss them dearly and despite the fantastic time with my dad I cannot wait to get home and hold them.

As I look back through the days and think about the moments that will stay with me, there are simply too many to list. One thought leads to another, and the cascade of images in my mind is slightly overwhelming. I will sort through things in the days to come, but I am thankful to have spent this time in this place with my dad. The best part of the trip for me is that in every memory, every mental picture and every story I can tell...he is there. What an amazing place to share with your dad.

Thanks Dad! I love you!

One day left

2011-09-09T23:24:00.001-07:00

We spent the last two days primarily looking for big rainbows...in Alaska that means hunting for a thirty incher. We fished a couple of big, tough rivers...heavy currents and egg patterns or huge leeches fished deep. We caught some nice fish, but no real monsters. About half way through the second day we found a group of coho and focussed in those fish for a while. My dad landed 4-5 and I got ten or so before we had worn that group out. Tired of slinging lead, I switched up to a dry fly and caught a million grayling up to 19 inches. The grayling fishing is simply incredible and everyone up here virtually ignores them. I can't begin to guess how many grayling I have caught this week, all on a size 16 elk haired caddis.

My dad was tired, and we had some time left in the day so our guide Dwayne took us up into a huge lake for a boat ride and to see the scenery. We spotted two grizzlies and then pulled I to a shallow bay and saw a bunch of small pike milling around. This was a big surprise but we took advantage of it and my dad caught his first pike on the fly. I caught a few as well and then spotted a huge pike. I directed my dad to the fish and he ran his black leech by it a few times, then I took a shot with the pink and managed to land a 42 inch monster pike. Huge fish, it was so fat I could barely lift it out of the water (disclaimer, my arm is shot from fighting fish and slinging lead).

One day left...hoping to head to the coast to chase my dad's favorite fish.

Quick recap, day two and three

2011-09-07T22:39:00.001-07:00

My arm is shot. We hit a short, two mile long river in day two that gets about 500,000 spawning sockeye. I think all of those sockeye were in the first half mile of river, along with an equal number of arctic char and rainbow following them to eat eggs. We caught countless char...and I mean countless. The biggest char was 26.5 inches, and the biggest rainbow was 25 inches. Most of the fish were between 18-22 inches, but the numbers were scary. The last third of the day, our guide Tyler told me I was no longer allowed to fish blind...I had to spot a fish and call my shot to make things interesting. It barely slowed me down a stitch...dad stood in the front of the boat wailing on char, and I stalked the shallows nearby sight fishing to big char laying behind the sockeye. What a day.

Day three we chased coho...once again, we caught too many fish too count. Dad and I both landed one in the 16 lb range but most of the fish were around twelve. We caught fish stripping big lead eyed pink marabou streamers...fish after fish. Late in the day, I switched it up and managed one on a popping foam dry fly...the highlight of the day for me.

Dad and I are having an amazing time in what is simply an incredible place. More to come, off for big rainbows tomorrow.

Wow

2011-09-05T23:43:00.001-07:00

What a start. First off, the lodge has WIFI. I was secretly terrified I wouldn't be able to communicate with my wife, but we have been emailing since I arrived Sunday. Secondly, this place...Alaska...is amazing. Full reports and pictures will trickle in slowly because I quite simply don't have the words right now. The sheer scope of this state is beyond comprehension in just a few days of wandering. We fished our first "full" day today on the copper river and dad and I slayed rainbows left and right. Epic fits. Salmon everywhere (I caught one) and every good drift behind a salmon meant a rainbow in the 18-24 inch range. Sick, sick fishing. Both evenings after "dinner" (nearly a five star affair, Liz is amazing) I have rigged up and chased grayling on caddis patterns in front of the lodge. In two sessions, I am probably in the 60 fish range...most are 13-16 inches, and I have topped out at 19 (tonight). Like I said, sick, sick fishing.

Tomorrow I hope to get a big char. Alaska is a special place.

Anchorage

2011-09-03T21:08:00.001-07:00

Off to Dillingham and the lodge tomorrow. Hope to be rigged up and tossing dry flies to grayling before dinner.

At the airport

2011-09-03T10:47:00.001-07:00

About to jet off to anchorage. Hard to believe this trip is here, and I can't thank my dad enough for taking me up to Alaska. This will be quite the experience!

Royal Coachman Lodge here we come!

For a guy that hates to pack

2011-08-31T17:34:00.001-07:00

I think I knocked that shit out of the park.

Managed to cram it all in a carry-on...no sense being separated from my waders! I did go from four rods down to two. I don't think I will need two 7 wts and the gloomis native run glx beat out the sage vt2. Still missing the mosquito head net, think I will pick one up tomorrow.

I hate packing

2011-08-30T17:51:00.001-07:00

I feel like this is a good start though. 4 rods and three reels...waders, boots, jacket, etc. Still a long way to go and the packing part of a trip is never something I enjoy. At least I don't need to worry about a bunch of flies. Going from "carp prepared" to "Alaska prepared" is a big jump!

Should I be worried that this is the extent of my preparation thus far and I leave Saturday?

25 lbs of big ass carp

2011-08-28T20:47:00.001-07:00

Slob. This monster was snoozing off the edge of the flat when a size 10 rust (singlebarbed free range dubbed) soft hackle gently splashed down about eight inches away. As the fly sank she eased down after it into the depths. I counted to three and lifted the rod. Slob.

Dr. Cane stuck this fish on a perfect worm take off an outstanding cast. The worm sank inches from the tailer...touched down and we saw the tail stop. The fish went horizontal, eased forward, went vertical and it was fish on.

This little guy ate a soft hackle like a feeding trout. The fish was stationed on a gravel bar facing into the current. It darted left and ate something. It darted right and ate something. It darted left again and ate my soft hackle.

This fish came off of sheer seduction. A tailing fish, it proved the rare exception that could resist a San Juan worm. Then along hopped a smallish looking bug...skittering and swimming. The fish followed...paused...followed and ate.

This fish came with persistence. Despite perfect positioning and some well placed flies...no take. Again and again this was repeated until the fish had simply had enough and stopped tailing and headed for deep water. In a last ditch effort I flipped the flies in front...strip, strip, strip, strip...the fish paused and I set the hook.

Carp on the fly.

Bass and kids

2011-08-27T20:22:00.001-07:00

The ease with which a person can catch bass on a spinning rod is shocking. Buy a couple of five foot ultra light rods, some blue fox spinners and jigs, add the pudding river (local warm water spot) and it comes together in a hurry. Been out three times with the kids. We carry three spinning rods (one each...sorry, but helping a five and six year old while fly casting is tough) and we catch small bass. Lots of them. First time out, we caught four (I hooked them all). Second time, we hooked about fifteen with the kids pulling their weight by slow rolling jigs along the bottom. Tonight, JJ and I landed eight. Nothing huge, mostly dinky smallmouth but they are great fun for the kids with those ultra light rods. We caught two largemouth too...not bad fish a five and six year olds. The most important part...the kids are having a blast.

Just over a week to go

2011-08-25T21:48:00.001-07:00

The Royal Coachman Lodge

I can hardly believe this trip is so close. Thanks to The Reel John Montana I will find out if a carp fisherman can still catch trout...and salmon...and char...and grayling (and I secretly want to try for a sheefish if possible).

A week in the wilderness of Alaska with my dad. We will have some stories to tell.

Things I learned today

2011-08-23T21:14:00.001-07:00

Big carp are tough. The plan today was to move quickly through the soft bottomed shallows, and focus on narrow gravel bars and deep edges. I was after big carp, and they just don't spend much time in places where they are easy to find. For a change...the plan worked pretty well. I skipped through the shallows mainly by being very picky about targets...I only cast at fish that were almost certain to eat. Once on the bars and edges I slowed my pace and lo and behold...big carp were tailing up and down the gravel. I got dozens of shots at fish in the mid teens but as already mentioned...big carp are tough! I couldn't get close to the fish because the cobble was so loud, and if I cast the fly close enough to get a take, the fish spooked...casting far enough away to avoid spooking the fish became a guessing game of which way the fish would turn. Most of the time, I guessed wrong. Carp don't get big by ignoring their surroundings, and you have to be on your game to fool them. Despite tons of chances, I only hooked one real monster (easy mid 20s...probably bigger) that promptly broke me off in a weed bed. I landed a handful of fish in the teens, but nothing huge.

Sleeping carp are tough. But catchable. After getting destroyed looking for big fish I stumbled onto at least 50 carp sleeping in the sun. Sleeping/sunning carp in deep water are my least favorite targets...but in shallow water they can be caught. Step number one, be a stealthy son of a bitch. Step two, dap a soft hackle on the fish. Rinse and repeat. I stuck a bunch of the sunbathers...fortunately they were spread put in a long line so I just inched along and pulled them from the pack. Occasionally I would have to wake the fish up to get them to eat. This is best accomplished by setting your fly on their nose. They usually shake their head like a dog, back up and eat the falling fly. After today, I am now saying that sleeping carp in shallow water are easy. The deep water sleepers still suck though.

The trick is in the retrieve. On the way back, I had caught my fill of fish and decided to mess with various retrieves. I had visions of Door County in my head and really wanted to see if I could get the fish to chase. I stuck to soft hackles, but tried long, slow retrieves, sudden stop and go, fast foot long strips, and then it happened. I put the soft hackle to the right of a cruiser and started stripping in fast, tiny, one inch pulls. The fish perked up and eased forward and I let the fly settle...paused, and then more fast, one inch strips. After a few strips the line came tight and it was fish on! I repeated this retrieve all the way back and it flat out worked like a charm. I still had to put the fly much closer than in Door County but the short strips seemed to get some attention, and while I wouldn't say the fish were chasing, the definitely moved to the fly. My usual method of sinking the fly in view and letting the fish find it is deadly, but it was fun to get the fish to move a bit!

The last thing I learned today...mirror carp are still the coolest.

Up close and personal

2011-08-17T20:28:00.001-07:00

The outdoor blogger network put up a prompt about pictures that are up close and personal. Reminded me of these pictures...man do I dig mirror carp!

Words of wisdom

2011-08-15T20:08:00.001-07:00

From legendary WA carp angler WT: "You cannot underestimate the importance of direct sunlight when fly fishing for carp."

So yeah...I showed up with sharp hooks, fresh tippet, eagle eyes and willing arms but when the sky is covered in high, white clouds you are basically going for a walk. Don't get me wrong, a guy can make that work for you but the general "no visibility" method is to move like molasses and peer into the mirror like surface with laser focus. This method usually results in dapping at happily tailing fish from a few feet away, but when the area you are fishing is covered in baseball sized cobble the old sneaky approach ain't happening. With stealth unavailable to us, we had to rely completely on vision, and spotting the fish at a distance was a problem. As such, we had to work at it, but we put a few fish in the net.

As the sun started to peek out from the cloud cover, we found a few mor fish and were able to decipher the takes. There were no gimmes today. Takes were subtle and the cast had to be right on the fish. They just didn't want to move to the fly...in fact, despite the rock covered bottom I had some mild success with the venerable SJW.

I was fishing my standard two fly rig and changing up the back fly, but the front worm seemed to be the ticket. The fish were tailing, or slowly cruising along the cobble and when I could get the worm I. Front of them without spooking them, they ate it pretty well. We moved along from spot to spot, fishing gorgeous water and hooking enough fish to be happy. All told we likely landed ten fish, maybe a couple more. I broke a couple off being careless and trying to horse the fish in (I tried to "hot beach" one by sprinting up the gravel bar and dragging the fish like an anchor...the hook straightened and he popped loose in the shallows but I sprinted back down the bar and scooped the little bugger up with one hand!) I freely admit that I am addicted to the take. I love watching the fish turn, or flair their gills or see the fly float into their mouth...landing them is a bonus. I just like to hook them.

We had a nearly perfect hour in the early afternoon. The sun broke through, the wind died and we fished in a glorious setting. Rather than rush it, we went slower. We caught a few fish, took some pictures, and in general enjoyed the river.

What started out with the frustration of no visibility and spooked fish turned into some spotty action for the bulk of the day, and an hour or so of near perfect conditions. We experienced the gamut of carping on the Columbia, even ending the day literally blown off the river by the wind. All told, a great outing with Travis. I texted back and forth with Mr. P that evening, telling him about the day, and the last exchange summed it up best.

JM: Solid day. Some really memorable takes.
Mr. P: Excellent

2011-08-13T21:15:00.000-07:00

Currently, I am sharpening flies.

I plan on needing sharp hooks tomorrow.

Been busy

2011-08-10T22:07:00.001-07:00

At work...all I can say is that I need an outing. The spring trips (Wendy and WFF, McTage, Door) weigh heavily on my mind.

I can feel this carping season slipping away. August remains but September is likely a no go for me, albeit for good reason (Alaska here I come!)

Quite simply...I need an outing.

I am a lucky man

2011-08-05T19:22:00.001-07:00

Today was quite a day. First off, I wasn't in the office. Don't get me wrong, I have a great job and feel very fortunate to be able to say so, but don't we work for moments like these? Sitting on some rocks, eating a sandwich with your kids and watching the waves pound the shore is highly desirable. Note the nets and bucket, this was primarily a crayfish expedition, just the three of us, the river and hopefully a few claws and tails. Still, the river isn't the same without a fly rod in hand, and a quick glance in a nearby bay showed a half a dozen tailing carp taking shelter from the wind and waves. I hooked one up, spent a minute letting the fish have it's way and turned it over to a couple of young pros.

Not a bad fish, probably 14 lbs and for the record, we called it after one. There were still fish tailing but the kids wanted crayfish, and due to the waves a change of scenery was needed. But first, the release.

The second stop had what we wanted and without the wind and waves. It didn't take long before we were netting and grabbing some crayfish.

Elia is a future biologist for sure, and the goal of capturing crayfish seems to be to transplant them into the man made pond in our neighborhood. We have turned at least a dozen loose, and there is some seriously high excitement when she or JJ spot "sparky" or "two claw" crawling around the local pond. We drove straight home and within minutes another batch of crayfish was swimming and crawling around the neighborhood...it won't be long before the kids report a "reary" sighting.

It was a great day for me. I spent most of the day in awe of how awesome my kids are and watching these distinctive little people interact with the world around them. They love everything. They are excited by everything. We should all be so lucky.

A nice surprise

2011-08-05T17:44:00.001-07:00

Got home from a great outing with the kids (report to come later) and I found a nice care package from Mctage. Thanks man! Technically I won these in a lottery off of a donation I made in Trevor's name for the carp slam in CO. But I honestly forgot he was doing the fly lottery deal until my name came up...great surprise as McTage ties a heck of a fly.

I promise to get these on the water as soon as possible...thanks man!

Blast from the past

2011-08-03T19:51:00.001-07:00

Old picture. 2007 maybe? It is funny, I remember many takes, many misses, many "holy shit did you see that" moments but I don't remember many actual fish. Just further proof to me that fly fishing, especially for carp, is not about the end product. Like so many things it is the sequence of events that leads to the conclusion that really matters. Did you spot the fish before it spotted you? Good stalk? Better presentation and did that fish really just turn it's head? All of the above for this guy.

Sweet picture though.

Be appreciative

2011-07-31T08:04:00.001-07:00

0745 and we are in the jeep with the top down. Sunglasses on, and my kids laughing in the back seat at my dumb jokes. Next stop some coffee and talk. JJ turned five today, and woke me up with a hug and enthusiasm. It took a moment for me to stir and he ran to the top of the stairs and yelled to Kelly "I guess we will just have to open presents without him!" thankfully, they didn't and I am still replaying the smiles and looks on his face. Does the content of the package matter as much as the unknown? My ever thoughtful daughter picked out an angry bird's black bomber plush toy and JJ is thrilled and Elia is all smiles and heart.

The sun is in the sky, the wind is on my face and my kid's laughter is in my ears. Despite the turmoil that often surrounds us, if you look for it, you can find moments where all is right with the world.

First carp on the fly

2011-07-30T21:45:00.001-07:00

The cast was good...far enough up current to give the fly time to sink, and a few inches short on a broad side shot, enough to make the fish move slightly. As spence's fly sank I could see it in my mind floating through the water column. I could see the fly hit bottom and tumble, tumble toward the waiting carp. I broke away from my daydream just as the big carp darted to the side and a white maw opened in the water...

"Set, set set!" I yelled and spence reared back on the rod and came tight to the fish. The big carp (15-18 lbs) lurched forward a foot and out of the corner of my eye I saw the rod tip jerk downward toward the water. Then the carp crouched back on it's haunches like a leopard about to pounce and the leapt forward and off the gravel bar. The reel sang and spun and spence smiled and hollered. The fish blasted for deep water and as I watched the reel move at warp speed I told spence to palm the reel to keep it from back spooking. His palm touched the reel and in an instant the big carp broke the 12 lb tippet.

The big carp kept the fly but spence was the one hooked.

A few minutes later he brought his first carp to hand...a nice 11 lber. Not bad for a guy who hadn't picked up a fly rod before today. Carp on the fly is a master's class...differential equations vs the basic math of panfish or the multiplication tables of trout. Re: not for beginners. He managed to hook three and land one, and I landed a handful but the fish didn't make it easy today. We worked for our shots, and I think I hooked more than just a few carp.

Fishing with my dad

2011-07-26T21:01:00.001-07:00

The plan was to fish for a couple of hours on some water that we don't fish often. It is good to cover new water...walk areas that you have only looked at once or twice. Often times it is even better to try someplace you have never been, but my dad doesn't cover ground like he used to, so he leaves the full on exploration to me! This time, we wandered down a flat that I rarely fish, not because it isn't good, simply because all the river is good. It didn't take long to find the fish.

The sun was high, the wind was down and my dad and I were wandering knee deep flats with seven weight fly rods. That pretty much sums up the day. We didn't fish long or particularly well, in fact, the first hour or so was actually pretty tough. The fish were there but they were not reacting well to the green nymph. They ate it, don't get me wrong but with no wind and great visibility we were making roughly 35 ft casts and the trick was detecting the take. Many times the fly would be I position, the fish on it and then they would dart away. "spooked on the fly" my dad would say...my own theory is different. I think they ate, spit, then spooked. After a while I switched from a green nymph to an orange nymph (courtesy of singled barbed's awesome Free Range Dubbing) and immediately the tide turned in our favor. Suddenly the takes were more noticeable...the fish reacted and moved more assertively to the fly and we started catching the fish we should catch.

Amazing what a difference the color of the body made in this day. In a couple of hours, I landed 9 and my dad 4. All but one of mine was in the orange nymph, the other one on the green. I think most of my dad's came in the orange as well.

Best take of the day came when I was off by myself for a bit. I was walking on a gravel bank with fantastic visibility and spotted a nicer fish holding just off the bank in some relatively heavy current. I put the fly well upriver and could just envision the nymph dropping to the gravel and tumbling along like in a trout stream. As the fly neared the fish's position the carp darted sideways like a trout and ate something...I set the hook and the fish blasted downriver into my backing. I could not stop this fish, and he went further into my backing than any fish I have ever hooked. Scaled out at 16 lbs...really fun tale and fish.

That is a lot of line missing.

As always, great to fish with my dad. He really has taken to this carp thing...and every once in a while he even listens to me and changes flies!

Have you seen your backing lately?

2011-07-23T21:54:00.001-07:00

I have.

No huge fish to hand today but I had a 16 lber go farther into my backing than any fish I have ever hooked. Just a crazy hot fish. 15-18 lb carp seem to be the apex athletes out here...they will crush you, while the really big girls just bulldog a bit.

Man do I love catching carp on the fly!

Some days it doesn't go as planned

2011-07-18T19:49:00.001-07:00

I have managed to sneak out for a couple of carp outings of late, neither of which was a rousing success. I met up with Mr. P for a short trip, best described here. We caught some fish, but nothing like what we were looking for, and Jim broke his rod. Try fishing for carp with one fly rod sometime...it only works because Jim is a pleasure to fish with.

The second outing was a bigger success in terms of fish, but again, it just wasn't what we were looking for. But this time...we had a boat!

Travis was kind enough to take my dad and I exploring, and in a boat it is certainly a lot easier to look at new water. The experience was stellar, the company superb, but the catching only so so. Check out the sky in this picture and you will know why.

Carp fishing is tough under any conditions, but combine dead calm surface water and no sun and you basically spend the day saying "there goes one". I did manage to land 8 fish, the largest at 16 lbs, and my dad and Travis each caught one, but it was tough. The highlight for me (other than meeting Travis and fishing with my dad) was a blind cast and hook up to a tailer. I stalked the fish on a huge flat, spooking multiple fish while enroute to the only one I could see (it's tail was completely out of the water). After a long cast, I kept the line tight and slowly pulled my flies into the zone until the tail disappeared and the line came tight...very cool.

Fishing with Travis was great...very laid back guy that clearly knows his carping! He stuck a nice fish with the same blind method...we were reduced to this method most of the day. Not the most productive way to catch carp out here.

All in all both days were different than planned, but both had a lot to offer. Jim and I got to fish literally side by side and swap high water spring stories...great fun. Travis, dad and I got to explore stunning new water and lost track of how many times we said "I need to come back here". Carp fishing is tough, and things don't always come together as planned, but as I walked down a long gravel bar, birds wheeling overhead talking to Travis and looking for tails breaking the surface I realized that sometimes...you really don't have to catch fish. Sometimes the experience is enough.

US Carp Pro

2011-07-13T19:17:00.001-07:00

Check out the latest issue of US Carp Pro. Several fly related articles in there with some nice flies by The Roughfisher and good stuff by Dave Mcool...heck, if you can't sleep check out my article to cure your insomnia. Another job well done these guys.

Lake MI day four

2011-07-12T20:35:00.001-07:00

The undeniable fact of life is that you keep getting older. Time wears away at us slowly, but the effects of that wear jump out at you faster than expected. One day your back hurts when you get out of bed...all on it's own. One day you see the opening and go for the drive but can't get there and turn the ball over. One day you groan audibly when you bend over to unlace your wading boots...where did that come from? Looking back, while it seemed like the pace of life had suddenly caught up to us, we had slowed quite a bit over the years. Don't get me wrong...four days is the perfect amount for a fishing trip...three is too short and five makes us miss our families to the point of not enjoying the fishing, but the length of each individual day and the type of day has gradually gotten easier over the years. We still forget the simple things, like eating, or carrying water, but now we will actually stop to grab something when driving from spot to spot. And while we still basically fish all the available hours...we do it a lot slower and a lot more relaxed.

Are we older? Wiser? Or simply in worse shape.

Regardless, day four dawned on two old, wise, and out of shape fisherman. We were cruising through a small town, enjoying our coffee and thinking ahead to the flat we planned to fish when Wendy pointed out that we were literally driving by tailing carp. We pulled over as the harbor town awoke, geared up to some strange looks from the dog walkers and vacationers, walked into the bay (in plain and loving sight of some gear fisherman) and promptly caught some carp.

It was that simple. A nice family took some photos for us, you can see their shadows. We wandered around the flat, answering questions while peppering carp with casts and landing fish. It was all insanely relaxed...and simple. Carp fishing for the civilized.

We ended the day and the trip where we started...casting for smallies back at the day one spot. We didn't fish long, just one relatively quick and dirty walk through the area. We were nearly out of flies, down to some pretty hefty tippet and both of us were thinking of our kids and wives (wiser). The fish were there still, and we caught them. Pretty simple really.

It was quite a drive back to our families, but Wendy and I have known each other a long time and the hours tend to move quickly amongst friends. We had a lot to reminisce about, and recounted take after take and fish after fish, but mostly we spoke of families and life. Fishing trips are about so much more than fishing, a fact we are both acutely aware of but make no effort to acknowledge. Sometimes it is best to just be, and just do, and let things settle. Lake MI 2.0 was the perfect mix of this for us. We crested at an impossible high and slowly came down and unwound on day four...and speaking for myself I got what I needed from this trip, just don't ask me to define what that was.

Thanks again to Wendy for sticking with me all these years and making these crazy adventures so memorable. Couldn't ask for a better guy to fish with. Most of all though, thanks to our families...giving up so much time for something you don't fully understand is an amazing thing to do, and I can't thank you enough.

So how do we top this one Wendy?

Lake MI day three

2011-07-10T20:16:00.001-07:00

Exhausted and exhilarated...but ready for more, we fueled up on some good grub at the end of day two. We both had a whitefish rueben (with coleslaw instead of sauerkraut) and as we chowed down we lamented the state of our fly boxes. Simply put, we didn't have enough of the "right" offerings. Sure, we had caught fish on a variety of our normal stuff, with the legion of doom, soft hackle and even my first Carp (of several) on the venerable backstabber by Jay Zimmerman making an appearance...but what we wanted to fish was big, rabbit fur flies. We wanted the chase. Thankfully, Wendy came prepared and after dinner he whipped up a bundle of squirrel strip flies that would prove irresistible to these great lakes carp. With a fresh batch of flies and a forecast of full on sun...we had high hopes for day three.

And we were not disappointed.

We took it to the carp. It was an absolute clinic. Some days you feel like you have the game figured out. Some days you just know that your next shot (or three or ten) are flat out going in the basket. Some days, you are basically unstoppable. Any athlete has felt it...we were in the zone.

The fish were cruising down the shallow flats, eagerly casting from side to side, and we were on 'em. Our casts were accurate and the fish were cooperative. We scaled a bundle of fish in the 16-19 lb range, and saw so many cool takes that I really can't remember many individual eats. There were a lot of eats.

Many doubles. We fished our first stop for the bulk of the day...it was simply too good to leave. Every time we thought about walking out of there another dark shape would appear on the edge of our vision and we would slip right back into hunting mode. I hooked a massive fish on the deep edge in 6 ft of crystal clear water. After a long battle (easy 45 minutes...just kidding) I towed the fish toward the net and as it turned for one last mini run Wendy and I knew we were in trouble. One slap of the tail against the roughed up leader and that fish was gone. In retrospect...likely a 30 lber.

Eventually, we left that magical flat...and found more magic. As Wendy said...we pounded on tailing carp until we flat out couldn't see anymore. I actually started blind casting for smallmouth just to change things up...and I caught three nice smallies in minutes. Sick, sick fishing. Oh...and Wendy stuck a 23 lb beast.

The fish were everywhere, and as the sun got low and visibility got worse, we saw a lot of this.

That'd be probably 40 carp swimming for safer waters. Being within casting distance of Wendy and I on this day equaled not safe.

We trudged back to the car in semi darkness...many, many fish were hooked. Many, many flies were mauled. All four of our legs were tired, and all four of our arms were exhausted. Catching that many carp is a workout. Our bodies were busted...our gear destroyed. We had no leaders left...just cobbled together bits of tippet, most of them frayed and ugly. Our flies looked like they had been puked up by a cat and both of our reels were wheezing like old men after a long walk. Even our boots had seen better days.

Yes...that is duck tape.

It was awesome. Lake MI...I thank you.

Lake MI day two

2011-07-08T20:35:00.001-07:00

Despite the relative smallmouth slaughter toward the end of day one, we left the cheap hotel the next morning with only one thought on our minds. Carp. Well...and coffee. After fueling up we hit the lake, talking as we walked a short trail to the water...it went something like this.

Me: this overcast is going to kill us.

Wendy: might be tough to know if they are there.

Me: I am just praying we step into the water and spook some fish, just so we know they are there.

We step into the water ten seconds later and a carp spooks from about three feet away. Thirty seconds after that I spot one and plop a big, black, goby looking fly in front of it. First lake MI carp for me.

After that the day took on the tone we had expected for the trip. During the planning stages we talked about and hoped to hit the tail end of the spawn. We figured it would be easier to find the fish this way, and we would be able to fish the edges for feeding fish. It came together for most of the day just like that on this flat. The spawners were easy to see, so we poked slowly along the edges and stuck plenty of fish.

Then we stuck our noses through a tiny little opening in a closed off bay to peek at the main lake. What we saw was incredible.

It certainly helped that we caught our first real sun at the exact moment we stepped into this setting, but the real stunner was the piles of cruising and marauding fish that patrolled the shoreline. Wendy hooked up in seconds.

We split up and each proceeded to lay the smack down on the fish, with crazy aggressive takes...stuff we just hadn't seen on the Big C out west.

Eventually we left that flat relatively sated and feeling good. We hoofed around, mostly walking and spotting the occasional fish...but honestly, we were done. We considered the day a wild success and with smiles on our faces we headed to the car.

The problem? One last cast syndrome. The minute our boots were on dry land we started wanting more...thinking not about the last take...but the next take. So we gave in, and rushed to one more spot as the sun was still visible.

One last cast turned into another...and another and another. In the fading light we reminded ourselves that good things happen when your boots are wet.

Elia, JJ, and 44 lbs of carp

2011-07-03T18:07:00.001-07:00

Check out this bad boy that JJ duked it out with today.

That'd be 23 lbs of carp. When i handed that rod to JJ I figured I would never know how big the fish was, but he got it done.

Slipped out with the kids today, with a plan involving rocky bottoms and the hunt for crayfish...unfortunately the water is still really high (though not fishing from sunken picnic tables high) so we couldn't find any rocks to flip over. We did run into the above bad girl who munched the little green soft hackle in a heartbeat. I played the fish for a few minutes before handing her fate over to a 4 year old. We also caught this monster just a few minutes before JJ's game of tug of war.

21 lbs on the nose, though neither kid got a shot at this one...this fish was just too hot. Elia got in on the action with a standard 11 lb male, and JJ got to do his favorite part of fishing...he eyeballs that net like there are cookies in it.

Nice assist JJ!

Will get some more lake MI pictures up this week, but any day you can take two fish totaling 44 lbs (plus an 11 lber) with your kids involved is indeed a great day!

The release of the 23 lber...

2011-07-02T09:29:00.000-07:00

Us carp fisherman need to stick together...with that in mind, take a moment to donate to the Denver Trout Unlimited Carp Slam! Drop a few dollars on the competitor of choice...For the record, I had to back McTage with my donation this year...sorry MG but the "Mctage method" of catching smallmouth on the fly must have brought at least a dozen nice smallies to hand for Wendy Berrell and I on Lake MI. That kind of priceless info tipped the scales.

And how do I get one of those cool shirts?

Smallmouth on the Fly

2011-07-01T17:33:00.001-07:00

I admit it...as I lay in bed not sleeping (I don't sleep well in hotels) at the end of day one I briefly considered changing the name of the blog to Smallmouth on the Fly. Yes, I was that enamored with our day one encounter with these bulldog like fish. I had caught smallies before, but never as many large fish in such a unique setting. And you have to admit, they are beautiful fish.

Mostly though, that evening's wild smallmouth bite was like throwing a drowning man a life preserver. Wendy and I drove to the flats absolutely BRIMMING with confidence. Armed with last years experience and a sudden and gracious nod from a local who pinpointed places he had seen carp only days before our arrival, we knew we would find the fish. And we did, but as many have said before, you cannot underestimate the importance of direct sunlight when fly fishing for carp. And we had no sun (I cheated, the first pic is from the last day...sue me.)

That would be our windshield wipers in full on frantic mode. I took that pic as the day ended, but it threatened all day. Still, we saw carp. We walked an amazing flat and saw good numbers of fish but 99 percent were onto us...Wendy Berrell, consummate pro that he is stuck the one carp that didn't know we were there (plus a nice smallmouth blind casting to a dock). So we walked, and drove, and looked and toward the end of the day it had begun to feel like our last trip...a lot of walking and looking. But then it happened.

We slipped around a sharp point, zero visibility and both of our thoughts drifting towards calling it and leaving to go watch the NBA draft (honestly, I think we both were waiting for the other guy to throw in the towel first) when I kicked up a smallie right at my feet. I threw a long cast down the bank and blindly stripped the fly back...whack! Fish on...as legendary OR gear angler Ex-Bass Guide would say as soon as releasing the fish..."nice long cast, retrieve...and whack!" Another smallie on the fly.

For the next couple of hours, under an increasingly dark and dreary sky we absolutely hammered the smallmouth bass. Most were in the 15 inch range but at least 6 or 7 were 17 inches or better. When the shadows were right we could actually see the fish and cast right to them, but many were caught on blind casts. We stripped the flies fast, we stripped them slow, we stopped and started and sometimes we just let the flies sit and would pick up the fish when the line moved. The water was full of bass, and they liked our flies.

Bass are fun, especially in such numbers. They don't run and are not as big or powerful as carp, but they bulldog, deep, tug hard and occasionally leap like a rainbow. We had a blast wailing away like tourney pros, hooting and hollering and rejoicing at finding some great fishing on lake MI.

I laid there that night and thought about dropping the carp thing for the next day...we spent some time talking about it. The forecast remained bleak for sun loving carp fisherman, and the bass were fun. And easy. No doubt in my mind we could have kept fishing for bass and slayed them for four days. But then I thought about those huge gravel flats, and big, dark shapes cruising. I though about large, meaty flies and long, blistering runs into my backing. When I woke up, it was raining. We hustled to the car through the rain, glaring at the dark sky and with barely a word drove north to explore a well known carp flat. Once again we were brimming with confidence despite a dark and rainy sky...bass were forgotten (or at least put aside) and we were back on the hunt for carp.

And this time, it paid off.

Lake MI 2.0

2011-06-27T09:35:00.001-07:00

In a few words...massive success. We only had two days of sun, but that didn't stop us from putting the hurt on the fish. Rough numbers for the trip...

75-80 total carp to hand

45-50 smallmouth bass to hand.

Largest fish, a 23 lb beast caught by Wendy Berrell. I got one at 21 lbs as well.

Roughly 10 smallmouth in the 17-18 inch range...we weighed one of those fish at dead on 4 lbs.

Lost flies...countless.

Destroyed gear list...many leaders, and not one but two pairs of boots (lost the felt soles off both my Simms and Wendy's redington boots).

Pictures never do a trip justice, but this time they might come close. We took some fantastic photos. It will be a while before I get home to put up pictures, so keep an eye on Wendy's blog...he will likely get pictures up before me.

So many visual memories in my head right now...crazy. Wendy and I spoke frequently about how blessed we have been to keep up this tradition, and how our trips keep evolving. Truly special time...a big thanks to Kelly and the kids and mrs. Wendy and his little ones as well.

More later.

Mostly sunny and a high of 75

2011-06-25T20:16:00.001-07:00

Yeah, that plus Wendy Berrell and myself prowling the flats is enough to make a guy feel sorry for the carp of lake MI. We put a serious hurt on the carp today, landing somewhere in the neighborhood of 40 carp, and a half dozen or so smallmouth. Once again we threw big rabbit and squirrel flies onto rocky flats, enticing follows and turns and dashes and big, white rimmed open mouth takes. Stunning stuff. Too many memorable takes too recount. Lake MI is and amazing resource.

One day left. We will once again stalk the flats, primarily looking for some real brutes to top our best two fish of the trip thus far (23 lbs for Wendy and 21 for me). The forecast for tomorrow...mostly sunny and a high of 75.

Day 2

2011-06-24T18:37:00.001-07:00

After tearing up the smallies last night, I totally get the smallmouth bass thing. Prior to last night I hadn't had good action or caught any big smallies...pretty cool fish.

Still, today dawned with more rain clouds and dark sky but we didn't hesitate. We skipped a sure thing smallie slaughtering and went exploring for carp.

And we found em. Lots and lots of them. Instead of slaughtering smallies, we slaughtered the carp. We didn't count but had at least 25 to hand between the two of us, the biggest at 19 lbs and the vast bulk of fish right around 11. While the numbers were good, what made the day great is these freaking carp absolutely chase flies with abandon. No time was spent "detecting the take". Instead, we lead the fish, plopped a big, huge, rabbit stripped lead eyed monstrosity out there and stripped like hell. Some crushing takes and truly memorable moments. Two day of this stuff remaining.

And tomorrow's forecast...mostly sunny.

Great Lakes Carp

2011-06-23T20:23:00.001-07:00

Day one...we saw carp. Big improvement over our last attempt out here. Wendy even caught a little 11 lber (and I snagged one in the face). Still a stunningly beautiful setting and just an amazing experience but we fished all day in high, nasty dark cloud cover. We quite simply couldn't see anything. With a little sun I think we would have been in business with the carp but it didn't happen today. The bulk of the carp we saw were already spooked, we just couldn't spot them in time.

Fortunately, there are a just a couple of smallmouth around here. Toward the end of the day we started blasting casts along the rock edges of the flats and began hammering the smallies...big ones too. We even got to do a little smallie sight fishing when we would catch a nice shoreline shadow. All told, we landed roughly 22-24 smallmouth with at least 6 or 7 in the 17-18 inch range. Flat out great evening session.

Tired, and ready for more.

Sleeping carp

2011-06-20T06:46:00.001-07:00

Mr. P just wrote a nice blog with some comments on sleeping carp. It seems like Jim and I have been on the same wavelength, or more likely fishing to the same type of post spawn carp. Throughout the season any dedicated carper will come across lots of resting carp. Oftentimes they are simply laying near the surface soaking up heat from the sun, tempting targets that are, in general, a waste of time. They are not active feeders, nor are they likely to suddenly decide to eat but if no other targets are available...you might as well fling some flies.

After years of casting at every carp I can lay eyes on my thoughts are pretty simple when it comes to sleeping or sunning carp. If they are in deep water, 1 out of 100 might eat. If they are sunning/sleeping in shallow water you absolutely can talk them into a meal. The conversation is the tricky part and usually requires a change of flies. You no longer want a quick sinking bottom heavy dredger, instead, fish something light and airy that has motion without requiring much movement to activate said motion. My past favorite...the rubber legged hares ear. My current favorite (shocker here)...the soft hackle nymph with a light bead.

The method is what you would expect, but works best when you are a stealthy SOB and can dap, rather than cast to the fish. Sneak right in there and hang that fly inches from his face. I mean inches, as in 1-3 and not 6-8. That distinction is the difference between catching one and thinking they can't be caught. If the fish doesn't either eat, or slowly spook out of there after a few repeated slow sinks past their mouth...I usually try to wake them up. It is shocking how often this works...but it does. Ask Mctage. If they don't eat, and don't spook I will quite simply rest the fly on their face...as close to the mouth as possible. Try not to laugh and spook the fish when you see your size 10 soft hackle resting on the carp's lip like bad teenage facial hair. Leave it there for a second and what usually happens is the carp wakes up and swims backwards a few inches...I just let the nymph fall and then jig it upwards right in front of the suddenly awake and aware fish. Usually, this is an instant take. They simply reach up and grab the fly. Truth be told...I have caught many nice carp using this seemingly ridiculous technique. Bonk em, then jig. In close quarters on shallow water sleeping carp, it is often the only way to talk them into a meal.

Happy fathers day!

2011-06-19T13:29:00.001-07:00

Happy fathers day to everyone out there. Good day to remind Yourself how lucky we all are. Good day to reflect on things, and hug your kids...actually everyday is a good day to hug your kids.

Some old pictures of JJ and Elia.

My kids both have boundless passion. While frustrating at times, I know it will serve them well in the long run. Life without passion would flat out suck.

Happy fathers day to my dad as well! We have lots of great memories together and I am thankful for all he has taught me, even if his "cat like reflexes" are mostly in his mind nowadays.

This September my dad is taking me to the Royal Coachman Lodge in Alaska. Going to be a special trip in an amazing place. Thanks dad! And happy fathers day!

Remembering

2011-06-15T19:47:00.001-07:00

So I am still not really sure where to go with all of this. The truth is, we slayed 'em. We caught tons of really nice carp and a few really big carp, and a couple of really monstrous carp. The trip was an amazing success regardless of conditions if you look at just the numbers, but carping is certainly about more than just the numbers. Fishing is about more than just the numbers...at least to those that really love it.

There are always those particular moments that hit you when on the water. I remember in particular the smallest fish that I caught all trip. We were walking back for a last ditch effort and what was supposed to be a travel zone turned into a carping zone. We spotted fish way up in some grass and caught one or two each...small ones like I said but one that I caught was a take that will replay in my mind. I was crouched at the waist with the fish slow cruising to me through pockets of grass. I dapped a fly into the opening to which the fish was headed and when he cleared the debris the fish reached up like it was picking an apple and grabbed my suspended fly. This was in about 6 inches of water.

I remember Mctage sticking a 16 lb athlete on the open river. Another slow cruiser (my favorite targets) out on the deep edge of the deep and flooded flat. I am not sure how he saw the fish or the take...I just remember the smile as that rocket took off into the depths of the Columbia.

I remember the grass. We fished two kinds of grass...stuff so thick and field grass high that the name of the game was picking an opening and hanging your fly there, hoping the target chose that particular path. And we fished cropped and manicured grass next to picnic tables...so lush and vibrant and green that it was distracting to see these big, dark alien shapes cruising and tailing where families should have been playing frisbee and eating potato salad. In many cases the fish were tailing so vigorously that we simply couldn't get the fly through the grass to the fish's level.

I remember slowing down and taking a moment to look at several of the fish we caught and marvel. Carp are amazing creatures. Big fins, massive tails and broad shoulders...they truly are fascinating. So efficient. At one point, after releasing the big, 31 lb female I grabbed my rod and took a few steps back to the water and stopped. I looked up Mctage and said I needed to take a few minutes to really enjoy that experience properly. I sat on the bank and watched him fish. After a few minutes, I got up and waded back out into the carp. I don't remember if I caught another one that night.

Big fish

2011-06-13T20:21:00.001-07:00

So day 4 ended with me dropping off an exhausted Mctage at the airport. We fished hard, had a blast and stuck some serious fish. I don't really know where to start so I will just extend a big thank you to Mctage for expending the effort to get out here from CO. I had a great time fishing with him and he clearly knows his carp. We fished about 2/3 of the day today but caught enough carp to end the trip having laid our hands on roughly 100 total fish. Mctage caught what I believe is his largest carp ever at 23 lbs.

This fish was a serious beast and required a shallow water stalk on his knees to get into position to get the eat. We landed several other absolute monster carp. I landed a 21 lb fish on the first day and also managed to land a 22, 23 and 31 lb carp. Here are a few pictures of the 31 lb bruiser.

This fish took a size 8 black and orange soft hackle. What a hog.

Still a lot of thoughts slipping through my head and I will sort through some things and put up (a lot) more pictures over the next few days. The carp were tough, with the takes being as subtle as they ever get, but as is always the case with carping, good things happen when your boots are in the water. We saw some amazing things and fished in some interesting places...more on all of that later. For now all I can say is what a trip!

Day Three in 3 words

2011-06-12T18:56:00.001-07:00

Twenty-two.

Twenty-three.

Thirty-one.

Day, we get too cocky

2011-06-11T21:24:00.001-07:00

Riding the day one high we rolled the dice a bit and fished some water that I knew was a bit of a crap shoot. Turned out ok, but it wasn't red hot. The fish were there but with the high water we struggled to get any good presentations. All told we landed 11 fish, with the best being a broad shouldered 16 lb athlete that took Mctage for a serious ride. We closed the day fishing the worst water imaginable...literally a flooded forest, full downed trees and pitfalls. We caught three in that mess.

Overall...good stuff happening here in Oregon.

Those CO boys can fish!

2011-06-10T21:55:00.001-07:00

Mctage arrived last night and we just finished day one. If it wasn't clear before, let me tell you. CO has some serious carpers. Mctage eclipsed double digits his first day out fishing in the jungle, plucking carp from the brush and grass with ease. It was quite a day with roughly 40 carp brought to hand, and our five biggest fish were 20, 19, 18, 18, and 16. We set the bar high for the rest of the trip.

Day two tomorrow. Pray for clear water and sunny skies!

Stories

2011-06-08T16:49:00.001-07:00

Midway through day two I hadn't stuck a fish. I was happy as a clam (though I doubt clams in the Columbia are happy...major carp fodder) and had spent most of the morning running back and forth netting fish, taking pictures and giving out high fives to a pair of smiling fisherman. It wasn't red hot, but we were doing ok with a few nice fish, including this great double.

Note the blue sky...that always makes me smile. We had some rays, and the boys were taking advantage of the light. After moving through the mud flats we came to series of small, rocky bays. Normally this is one of my favorite spots on the river but given the water levels we were struggling. The fish were there, tailing in the boulders but the wading was brutal. Repeated slips and falls and one badly bashed shin marked our efforts, with just enough shots to keep us moving down the treacherous water. This is big fish water though, and it did bring us our biggest "to hand" fish. As we stumbled along I spotted a big tail waving amongst the boulders. WFF was on my right and quickly put a fly on the fish but an errant gust of wind contributed to a nasty tangle and ended his attempt at the feeding carp. I looked over at Wendy but he was too far away to risk the movement in the slippery conditions, so I flipped my two fly rig to the fish. As the flies sank I snuck a glance at WFF and said "he is going to eat that." A second later I set the hook and the fish screamed out into the river. This was one of the few fish we hooked that had room to run, and it felt good to see my backing. Approximately 45 minutes later (in dog years) Wendy deftly netted this nice carp.

The fish tipped the scales at over 15 lbs, and while we all hooked bigger fish, this was the biggest we managed to net. It came on a perfect situation...an actively tailing fish in amongst the boulders, a soft presentation and a short, sharp head turn to the fly...memorable.

In the thick of it

2011-06-06T20:25:00.001-07:00

Or, why I bought some 16 lb leaders on Sunday.

The jungle. This ain't carp fishing for the faint of heart. Hook em close and hang on...

If these fish get more than ten feet away, it is game over...unless you are good at mazes and can follow a fish through this stuff.

All told, the three of us broke off something like 17 carp in one day fishing in that mess. We would have landed more had we stuck to the open road.

Fun stuff, but I miss my flats.

Stories

2011-06-05T09:30:00.001-07:00

The one hand hold. Tradition, however limited with regard to carp on the fly here in OR requires an attempt at a one hand hold by any and all visitors. Why...because Wendy did it one time and I thought it was funny. As was typical with regard to the massive enthusiasm and smiles that WFF exhibited throughout this adventure, the one hand hold was accepted as a personal challenge, to great effect.

The trick of course is finding the right size fish. Years of study have determined that the one hand hold is possible only with fish under 12 lbs, and the higher end of that scale increases the difficult dramatically. As you can see, WFF took right to the challenge and found multiple opportunities for the statue of liberty pose.

At one point he was so immersed in the vegetation of the forest that even as he whooped and hollered to indicate he had hooked yet another carp, neither Wendy nor myself knew where he was in the maze of trees and brush. Not to worry...by this point in the trip WFF was an old hand and knew just what to do.

Nicely done WFF. Nicely done.

Stories

2011-06-04T09:53:00.000-07:00

Have I mentioned the water was high? With my favorite areas neck deep I was scraping the bottom of the proverbial fish in a barrel deal to put WFF and Wendy on some fish. Late in day one we headed to a tiny strip of backwater that I knew held some carp. Typically I fish big, open water with flats and gravel bars...nice big landscapes. This slough was more like an oversize drainage ditch...narrow and deep with just a 50 by 50 area where the carp are catchable. I have found that sunning carp are nearly impossible if they are in deep water, but if you can find those same sunning fish in waist deep or shallower, you can talk them into eating. The slough was just over waist deep, and there must have been 30 carp spread out in the shallow area...sunning. Time for some fancy talking.

First up was WFF. He snuck down the bank like a seasoned pro, armed with instructions to hook the nearest fish and flat haul his ass out of the scrum so we could take more fish from the group. No pictures of this, but I got a sweet video of WFF basically spoon-feeding a nice 12 lber from a rod length away. When the fish took he clamped onto that sob like a dog with a bone and didn't give the fish an inch. Three minutes later and the fish was in Wendy's net.

Quick disclaimer...if I read one more online forum post about a 45 minute fight with a common carp I am going to puke. If you are really taking that long to fight a fish you are doing the fish no justice. I know carp can kick major ass, but don't wear them out for the better part of an hour! If you fought a carp for 45 minutes one of two things is true...you have no concept of time or that fish will be dead 5 minutes after it swims away. End of rant.

Wendy slipped into the area next and I joined him, leaving WFF on the high ground to take some sweet photos. As established in many years worth of past posts...Wendy is a pro and he stuck a nice fish in short order, straining to keep said fish from blowing up the area.

I slipped up to Wendy and netted the fish, right around our 12 lb avg for the trip. Wendy offered up the area to me but I pushed him forward a few feet, figuring we could get one more fish before they were all spooked. As he lined up a cast on a nice one WFF shouted from above..."big fish to the left!" wendy and I swiveled a bit and saw a massive head sliding towards us, about twenty feet away. I grabbed the camera and flipped on the video mode as Wendy made the cast. By the time I had the camera up the big fish had eaten, the hook had been set and WFF was screaming like a little girl. At this point all hell broke loose. Wendy was leaping around fighting a truly huge carp and somehow dancing waist deep water like JJ does when he sees the ice cream truck. I am hollering like we just won the state basketball title and WFF is nearly in spasms on the bank at the size of this carp. Suddenly Wendy turns towards the camera and shouts "This is the biggest fucking carp you have ever seen!" One more four year old dance step from Wendy, rod bent double and POW. The fish breaks him off. He drops his hands parallel to the water in a WTF gesture, and looks blankly over his shoulder at me. I turn off the camera and we all stare at the water as if we could somehow get that 10 seconds back if we looked deep enough. It was a huge fish.

The Players

2011-06-01T20:01:00.001-07:00

Wendy Berrell

Wendy is a thoughtful guy. Thoughtful as in considerate and kind, and also thoughtful as in, well...full of thoughts. It is rare that he can't find the heart of a matter or discussion and rarer still that he can't pinpoint said heart in a the space of a few words. I remember one year Wendy considering the merits of a new flyrod or a plane ticket to Portland. He easily and quickly bought the ticket saying simply, "I would rather spend money on an experience than an object." It quite simply is a pleasure to fish with him.

Winona Fly Factory

WFF spent the bulk of four days smiling. He smiled into the chocolate milk waters of the Columbia, he smiled into the white, cloud filled sky, he smiled at the broken Tippett and bent hooks, and he smiled right into the teeth of the 25 mph winds. What more can you ask for in a fishing companion? Well, it would be nice if he could tie...and WFF is a world class fly tier. He tied flies in the backseat as we drove from spot to spot on the river. I would fish with WFF any day.

John Montana

Not to toot my own horn, but I am relatively adept at finding carp. That and the willingness to immediately and forcefully point out a blown cast or a missed take are pretty clearly my best attributes as a fishing partner. I guess one sort of cancels the other out. Sort of.

Cyprinus Carpio

The common carp is unquestionably one of the most exciting freshwater gamefish in the world. Name another fish that feeds in shallow water, takes flies readily, sprints like an Olympic athlete and is capable of breaking a fly rod on their second or third run. There simply is very little like the common carp in freshwater that can combine such qualities as a gamefish with the sheer excitement of the method used in catching them. When carp fishing with a flyrod, even getting a refusal is enough to raise your heart rate.

When you put this set of players together...only good things can happen.

One thing that is nearly always true

2011-05-31T17:14:00.001-07:00

If you put your boots in the water and start walking, you are bound to see something cool. That held true throughout the 4 day swing with a couple of legends from MN. I am sure those four days will provide some fodder for the blog and all three of my regular readers can expect a decent stream of photos and updates over the next few days, but for the most part I am having a tough time putting things together in my head. The basics are there (crappy, cold, high water...big winds, limited sun, good company etc) but the details and particulars are still awash in the general awesomeness that is 4 days of flyrod carping with buddies. Four days of nothing but water and sky and fly rods and legions of doom and puffy lips and broken Tippett and bent hooks and good pizza and busted shins and horrible netting techniques and carp. Lots and lots of carp. Granted they weren't always in spots we could catch them and they often were hard to see, fuzzy shapes slinking along in thigh deep cloudy water, ghosts with the potential to thrill and amaze if you could just make them out a little better! Anyone who has done this knows of what I speak...so tantalizingly close to epic that settling for amazing seems too much to bear.

So we went with it, and I will likely spend some time this week doing what we did...putting our boots in the water and walking until we saw something cool. Unable to put any decent structure to those days together in my head, I am just going to plod along and see what comes out. Hell, we got enough good images to tell the story better than my piss poor writing can, so let's just wing this. Starting with a shot taken by Wendy Berrell.

A flat out money shot that came about solely because we kept our boots in the water. With the river a mess we walked into this field and proceeded to wack the carp in knee deep water amongst the small shrubs and large trees. Note WFF in the background stalking some carp. He stuck his share back there too.

The difficulty here was the fish had immediate and dangerous access to piles of bushes, trees, deadfall, blackberry bushes and god knows what else so we basically had to clamp down on their asses and hang on. I broke off 10 fish in one day using 12 lb mono. What a trip!

We found em, but had a heck of a time pulling them out. The basic fact is that if you keep moving, you might find something cool.

End of the trip

2011-05-30T11:14:00.001-07:00

Much more to come, but Wendy and WFF are winging home as I type. Just want to put out a thank you to those guys for expending the effort to join me out here. Wendy and I go back a long ways and our time on the water together is important to us both. Really enjoyed fishing with WFF as well, that sob simply never stopped smiling. Condition were just short of brutal. One day of full sun and little wind but the river is higher than I have ever seen it and most days the wind hammered us (to the tune of 25 mph yesterday). We roughed it out, worked hard and put right around 60 carp in the net in four days. Broke off tons of fish in brush and debris from the high water, so the big boys eluded us...we figured an average weight of around 12 lbs. Thanks again to you two for making the journey and being great sports about the rough conditions! More pics and stories to come, but for now, a great shot by WFF of a small fish that I caught. This is what it is all about.

Brief interruption

2011-05-29T21:59:00.001-07:00

Back to the day 4 report and some awesome pictures soon...but have to give a big thank you to Singlebarbed! Got home from a great trip to see this:

And for the record, Keith Barton dubbing was used in the flies that stuck several of the 18 carp we landed today. The deadly free range dubbing will soon be applied to more flies...I need to replace the 10 I left stuck in puffy carp lips today. Tough to land em when their primary escape route includes a path through flooded blackberry bushes. More to come on that, but a quick picture:

Thanks for the dubbing Keith. That stuff rocks and will cause many, many carp to have sore lips.

Day Three Highlights

2011-05-28T21:45:00.001-07:00

Wendy Berrell is a carping machine. He and his Legion of Doom fly are a deadly combination.

WFF put a 100 yard stalk on our first "tail out of water"tailer...and stuck the fish in one cast.

I watched a fully scaled mirror pounce on Wendy's LOD like the fish had been waiting his whole life to see that fly.

I got skunked.

The river is a mess, but we are slogging through. Caught some fish, saw some cool stuff and ended the day eating burgers, wings and watching UFC 130. In short, we are kicking ass.

One day remains.

Picture of a picture

2011-05-27T21:12:00.001-07:00

When my dad got his first digital camera he used to tell me to "zoom in and take a picture of a picture." I think what he was asking me to do was crop a photo. Well, these next few shots really are pictures of the LCD screen of my camera. Basically, I left the laptop at home. Still, despite the cards stacked against WFF and Wendy Berrell in the form of gale force winds, a river that appears to be made of sludge, water that is so far in the trees the birds all have wet feet, and some relatively piss poor guiding...the boys are putting some fish on the bank. Hell, I have even caught a couple. In short, the river tried to kick our ass and we are kicking right back. Round three tomorrow.

Day One

2011-05-26T21:25:00.001-07:00

Wendy Berrell and WFF landed yesterday for four days of carping. Four days on the river with a couple of good dudes. Pretty tough to beat so a big thanks to Kelly, Emily and Liz! Day one ended and despite horrid river conditions, we did pretty well. The big C is pretty big right now and so murky we were afraid to even get in the water. We hit a few ponds and worked our way into some fish despite less than ideal water. WFF landed his first ever Oregon carp, a 14 lb bruiser that put a smile on all of our faces. Wendy hooked the "biggest f'ing carp you've ever seen!" (he screamed that into the camera...awesome video) and I managed a few fish myself. All told, 16 fish landed for just over 176 lbs in total weight. No monsters brought to hand yet, though we all had our chances.

More of the same tomorrow.

One bad fish

2011-05-22T14:24:00.001-07:00

From 2008 with Wendy Berrell. I poached this bitch while Wendy was working a (much smaller) tailer. A good host would have said, "hey...there is a pig". Instead I sauntered over and stuck her. I get that from my old man...fair warning to anyone coming for a visit.