Winter

Yeah...not my favorite season. For the record, I had been zipping along, staying busy with family, work, and life and it was starting to look like the carping season would be here before I could blink. Then the snow came. Portland was buried in the stuff...and just like that the season that seemed just a few weeks away was swept under a blanket of cold white stuff. Yuck.

We did have some fun the last couple of days:

Sorry for the radio silence of late. I haven't fished since October, but should get after some steelhead soon at a minimum. I got hit in our annual neighborhood Turkey Bowl this year and ended up with a broken nose, concussion, and the worst part, some nerve damage in my right shoulder. Been rehabbing and I am good to go and ready to chase some fish. Soon...even if I have to brave the snow.

Spring, despite how it looks in my front yard...is just around the corner.

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Carp Presentation

I will be at Royal Treatment Fly Shop in West Linn, OR this Saturday, January 25th at 10 am. Good chance to come by, talk some carp and eat some cookies! I plan to stick around for a while and tie a few flies, plus I will bring a bunch of Carp on the Fly hats, $20 if you are interested. If you aren't local, you can pick up a hat here: http://www.carp-on-the-fly.com

Hope to see a bunch of you there!

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Don't miss it!

Click Here:
http://issuu.com/carppro/docs/issue_6?e=6197404%2F6110929

Stop Moving Your Fly

 

As carp on the fly grows and more and more fly fisherman start to chase these fish in more and more places it stands to reason that many new techniques will pop up. We are going to get better at catching these fish. We are going to lean how to catch them in different conditions. We are going to find new bodies of water. All of this makes sense, but there is one thing about carp that we must remember at all times.

They don't want to work for their food.

Granted, some carp are predatory. Some carp chase gobies and crayfish (god I love Lake MI carp) and scuttle after nymphs in the shallows. Some carp can easily be caught with big flies and a solid strip set, but most carp are omnivorous. They eat what they can, always adhering to the concept "as many calories as possible with the smallest output necessary."

So I say "stop moving your fly so much." As a general rule on my home water, I don't move the fly at all. I cast, drag and drop so the fly falls into position on the dinner plate and then wait for the fish to find the fly. I have found this far more effective than stripping or moving the fly into the same position...no idea why, it just seems to work. Once the fly is there I wait...and wait, and watch. If I simply can't wait any longer I will give the fly a tiny twitch, just sort of shaking the line or giving it a 1/2 inch strip to make the fly move a touch...then I let it sit again. If that doesn't work I will resort to really short strips, but most of the time my home carp eat the fly when it is dead still on the bottom (or falling into position).

 

This year when Wendy Berrell and I chased predatory carp we found that keeping this concept in mind upped our catch rate significantly. Not every carp was ready or willing to hunt down and eat a two inch long bunny leech...some just wouldn't pursue. But...when we simply dapped or dropped the same fly on them and let it sit on the bottom, we often got some head turn "Columbia river" style takes. As the trip progressed I messed around with smallish nymphs and finally a hybrid. They all worked when presented without movement. On the last day, I stuck and landed 13 carp on a size 8 hybrid, all just by leaving the fly and letting the fish find and eat it.

As much as I love watching the chase, when I really want to catch some fish, I let the fly sit. Sometimes it pays to simply stop moving your fly.

 

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A few photos

It has been quite some time since I have picked up a fly rod. Life has been busy, and I simply haven't made it to a river much of late. I intend to remedy that soon with a run to the coast, or maybe some trout on the Deschutes...until then I look at pictures and dream of warm weather. I had an MRI the other day for a suspected torn rotator cuff (negative...phew) and spent the 15 minutes in that horrid tube day dreaming of lake MI and the big C...good outings store up good thoughts and you never know when they will come in handy. A few weeks and I will be back on the water...until then, a few of my favorite "non hero" pictures.

Carp Tails

Forage

Carp Divots

Targets

 

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Scouting

Mr. P and I figure that between the two of us we have walked roughly 290 miles of the Columbia river...on both sides. Granted, we may have skipped some stretches but ultimately that is a relatively true statement. I tell people all the time that if you walk a half mile of river in the middle of July and DON'T see a carp...you aren't looking. We have a target rich environment.

With winter bearing down on us though, I find myself wishing I could find the carp right now. Where do they go on the big c? No idea really, though I assume they run deep, find a temperature they like and hang out in a gigantic carp ball. That would be quite a sight. One thing I have figured out is that I am much more likely to find them when the temperature is warming than when it is cooling. A 52 degree water temp on the drop...empty flats and bays...52 degrees on the rise, well, you have a shot then. If you know what to look for.

Basically, you want three things. First, you need a stretch of water that is totally out of the current. Much of the Columbia is slow, but almost all of it moves at some pace...find the areas that are the most stagnant and you are 1/3 of the way to an early season river carp. Second, sun. You need a place that will soak in the rays...no shadows, cliffs, weird topography that limits the light...you want that stagnant water soaking up the rays. Lastly, you want a dark, softer bottom to absorb that light. Anyone that reads this knows that most of my season is spent stalking cold, cobble and gravel bars, but when you want to find them in late February or early March you gotta play the game. The glory shots will come in July...find the mud, find the sun, and avoid the current and you can find early season river carp.

 

 

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Meat eater

 

Wendy Berrell and I had been riding a pretty good high. We smacked Lake MI around and were laying into the carp left, right, back and forth. Our bay of choice was literally frothing with fish...targets everywhere...and some were hungry. This fish was highly memorable. For the most part, we had been spotting fish and casting to specific cruisers in relatively shallow water. The depth, and color of the bottom made visibility perfect, and when we found a player, the cat and mouse game of stripping and killing the flies was intoxicating. As the bay narrowed a bit, I slipped to the deeper edge...still only waist deep but gone were the perfectly clean visuals of the knee deep water, replaced instead by groups of moving black masses...carp, milling free from the spawning frenzy to circle out and then back into the scrum. I couldn't clearly see individual fish, nor mouth nor fins or scales,but I could see hordes and groups moving through the deeper channel. On the big C...this is a zero sum game...but on lake MI...they eat meat.

 

I threw the rabbit monstrosity above well ahead of one group, giving time for the heavy dumbell eyes to pull the fly to the bottom. When the marauders were a few feet away I hopped that fly right across their path...skittering, moving, jumping and stopping every few inches. I could see in my mind as the rabbit pulsed and the fly jigged with each strip and rod shake. Out of the middle of said pack of predators, one big dark shape broke a 90 and began to follow. Strip, strip, pause...strip, pause...strip, strip, BIG strip and then kill the poor fly and leave it helpless on the bottom as the darkness surged forward, unable to resist. The rest was a matter of one final strip, good tippet and a strong drag.

God bless the meat eaters.

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0/2

I haven't fished in quite a while...just haven't been ready to dive I to salmon and steelhead, and the carp are around in such small numbers that it has been hard to get excited. I finally went out today, shamed into hitting a local pond by a constant barrage of texts and images from Dan Frasier and Wendy Berrell...I just needed to see a carp!

So...I went to a local pond that I usually avoid. Once upon a time, this was my go to local spot. My kids both touched carp there when they were babies (JJ was just six weeks old and in a front pack) and I still head there with the kids to let em catch a few fish on bait.

But when it comes to a fly, these might be the most well educated carp in America. This is a small pond...urban, with a decent, but limited population of carp. Over the years I figure I have caught literally every fish in the pond multiple times and they know what is up now. If they see an outline of a person...gone. A waving fly rod...poof. A splashing fly...zippo...back to the depths. It is a punishment to fish there.

I saw three fish. Two were crawling in some serious shallows, and when I flipped a heavily hackled black fly (the hackle to make it land soft) to the lead fish, both fish spooked and blew mud all over the place in their haste to vacate the area. The third fish was a big one for this pond...maybe 9 lbs. all I could see was the tail, it's head was buried deep in the murk. I snuck into position, and ever so carefully dapped a weighted soft hackle on the fish's head. When the fly broke the surface tension, the fish blew.

Tough go...I already long for the "easy" Columbia river carp!

 

 

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Hats are in!

To check out styles and colors and to place your order, go here:

http://www.carp-on-the-fly.com/

Get one now, supplies are limited!

End of Season

2013 started with a bang, but ended with a whimper. I caught my first carp in February this year, and in early march I was torturing Dan Frasier of Carp Pro with fish by fish text updates on my way to a 26 carp day. An auspicious beginning indeed. Most of the year was great, and I likely will do some recaps throughout the winter and offseason while slumming (kidding) for winter steelhead and salmon.

 

But all good things must come to an end, and for me at least...I think the 2013 carp season has run its course. The recent rains have raised all the rivers, dumping cold water into my beloved Columbia, and while the temps of the main river still hover around 60, the steeply declining graph is a killer for a shallow water sight fishing addict. I could extend the season by looking in some ponds, or chasing small carp around office complexes, but it just isn't what I am after. I want the gravel fish...the tailers and slow cruisers and marauders you find when the sun is high, the water clear and the river warm. These are the top fish...the fish that challenge, then frustrate, but ultimately reward you with blistering runs and golden hues. The book is likely closed on such creatures for 2014.

I went out today in search of one last carp in the gravel. I walked two known big fish haunts, and one area I fish soley for the sheer numbers of 7-8 lb fish that typically abound...but in miles of walking, I saw three carp. Total. I nearly had the storybook ending though. The first carp was 8 feet deep, and I only saw him as I stood on a tall boulder, and I never even took my fly off the guide. Carp two and three were together, and materialized out of nowhere. At first I saw a cloud of dust, then the tail of a 10 lber vigorously feeding in deeper water. Then I realized that the big pile of weeds on the surface next to the ordinary fish was actually a monstrous carp, it's tail breaking the surface as it fed nose down in water that rose to my waist. This was one of the two or three largest fish I had seen all season...it was meant to be...I would make the cast, she would eat, and I would clip off my flies in triumph and head home.

Instead, I made the cast and the fish surged forward toward my flies in a cloud of dust. I had to guess as I could no longer see her head, and I guessed wrong, setting the hook with authority and sending both carp fleeing to the depths of the river. I kept walking, but all I saw was a pod of chinook in a creek mouth. I half heatedly threw a hybrid at them and somehow the oldest, nastiest, moldiest fish ate the fly. No carp, and a moldy salmon.

So 2013 ended with a whimper...

 

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