Is it deer season yet!?

As a man with a one track mind and with the last two trips with the fly rod being nothing short of miserable...."where is deer season!?"

Went last weekend to hang a stand locally and put out one trail cam. I hunt the mountains here in NC some but mostly the massive woods of GA. The hunting in GA is just so much better, more bucks and bigger bucks. Poaching is such a HUGE problem here locally that it drove us to find another area (or state) altogther to hunt. GA has been great to us and we've never looked back.

I'll update often with hunt reports and trail cam pics as I round them up. "Hey, let's go huntin' "--Dean Durham

Dried up and soakin' wet...

Man, trying to wrap words around the worst two days of fishing I've had all year. Wifey and son went out of town so I had two days of nothing else to do but fish...and work a little. Sunday we hit a new brookie stream, stream way low, fish way spooky, and way picky. Did manage a few brookies and a small brownie. Hopped out of that stream and went to an old faithful...still the fish are denying me like a chess geek chasing the prom queen. Still, landed a few.

Monday, made dust out of work at 4:59 and raced up the hill. Walked the 1.5 mile in, fish about 1 hour and the sky opens up worse than anything I've ever experienced. Rain fell at the rate of 4 inches per hour (no, I aint got no gauge in my pocket, checked the stats later) along with dime size hail. I learned the BB size hail that started it sounds kinda cool pinging off your hat, but that dime size slammin' your head and neck is rather painful. I hoofed it out in record time...the old toyota never looked so good. No pics as I had nothing on my mind but a roof over my head. Needless to say, after then soaking my truck in wet clothes, I had to ride to work today sitting on two towels as to not appear as if I pee'd my pants on the way in...

With that said, I have a 4-80 Sage for sale along with a huge assortment of supporting equipment.....KIDDING!!! But, I'm ready to say...bring on deer season.

A crawdad and a single double...

This past Friday my fishing partner and I scheduled a day off from work with not much in mind but daylight to dark fishing...and that's just about what we accomplished.

The day started off like most any fishing day, left the house to meet up around 5:45am and then rode up in one truck. We had this ridiculous idea of fishing a particular section of one of our favorite streams long enough to take two trucks, one parked at beginning and end. Luckily, after sleeping on the notion, we both found out the other had the same thought that this probably could not be done in one day of fishing. It would have been about 3 miles of water, not to mention the hike in and out.

I'm no Indian track reader, but after a night of heavy fog and dew I can tell a fresh truck track in the forest road on the way up. Much to our dismay and surprise a truck was parked at the trailhead we had chosen. We decided to do the usual and peer into the truck to see if it looked like a fisherman or a hiker. This area attracks hikers 10 to 1 over fisherman. My buddy was two inches from the window looking for fishing gear and this man pops up from the back of the double cab dodge. After a few minutes he finally opened the window and we explained what was up. Good thing he was friendly. Anyhow, we learned he was a solo hiker and we would be rewarded for our very early arrival. It was funny though to see the look on his face to be awakened by two very ugly fly fisherman. We also disappointed him as we didn't have a hot bacon, egg and cheese biscuit in the truck.

After the quick intro to the anonymous hiker, we changed shoes, grabed the necessary and off we went. It's rare I get a full day to fish, I usually do the half day thing or even shorter. So, I went with the old backpack that's carried everything from college books to deer pee. I packed only the most necessary gear, leaders, tippett and one box of flies...then plenty of food and water. I despise getting hungry or thirsty while fishing. I can't relax if this happens so I take extra whenever possible.

Once we hit the water we did the usual hopscotch approach. This works well and leaves every likely spot fished. It wasn't long and I was into a nice rainbow that went MAD on my yellow stimi size 10. I actually didn't look too hard for the hatch as I'm very confident in a few different flies this time of year. I learned quick the fish that were gonna hit were gonna hit HARD. Some of the strikes were off the chart and out of the water. At first we were missing more than we landed as it always takes me a minute or three to shake out the anixety and slow things down. Then, we stuck most every fish with near 'bout professionalism. I was quite impressed with our showdown this day.

As the trip progressed we couldn't help but notice the blasted uncanny ability these fish have at spotting us at up to 20+ feet away as we approached. We finally decided to waste little time on the long slow stretches because we had all day and the effort to not spook these runs wasn't worth the return. We had an unlimited amount of stream to cover and all day to do so. As I finally approached one of my favorite pools I was more than ready to sneak into position and giver her a roll. But, guess stinkin' what happened!?!? I got sickly hungup on the second attempt. I was more than let down as I just retied and refused to break off to the devil laurel. I kindly moved aside and let my partner have at it. The biggun' we know lives there didn't make an apperance but for the first time in our careers two fish were landed at once. A nice fat rainbow went for the dry as another much smaller cousin followed closely for the nymph. A recommended a slight slowdown in the retrive and WHAMMY, two fish on at once. What a gift from this favorite hole.

As the day wore on we finally approached another huge pool that gives us fits and usually leaves us empty handed. There isn't an easy way to approach this hole and not give up a big ugly shadow. I easily crept over a boulder to take a look see and noticed a nice 12 incher up near the surface feeding like a starving kid at the KFC buffet. My partner offered me the chance at him and I quickly accepted. But, as luck would have it here comes a hiker and two gigantic dogs. Needless to say the hyper hiker needed directions and that fish was gone quicker than he appeared.

We decided at this point to just stop for lunch and check the time. We had been on the water about 4-5 hours and landed numerous fish but we weren't done yet. From here forward was a new stretch of water for both of us. We had fished other sections on numerous occassions but not this particular one. The fishing for the next couple of hours was nothing short of epic. The rainbows came out in force and abundance ever better than the early morning. We had finally gotten our ninja skills down to a clumsy science and could throw any fly in the box for an offering and they would take as if it were their last meal...just as long as we weren't sloppy of course. No slapping of the water was permitted. We had now located our new second favorite hole that produced 6 healthy fish.

One small item of note, and part of my blog entry title, are the tons of crawdads this stream plays host. (many people calls these boogers "crawfish", but here in the south they are crawdads) This is where another first was revealed when a very hungry fresh water lobster decided to take on a flashy nymph. He was saddened when he realized the bead head was only for looks and not some sort of shiny cherry topping.

The total count was lost at somewhere around 25. No real piggies on this day, but what we gave up in quality was returned in quantity. The last few hours did seem to drain on us as the fishing tapered off a great deal, but no way we could forget the past 7 hours of endless strikes. When we finally ended the day we lucked up and located a quicker trail back to the road...when we got to the top we blaimed each other for not bringing that second truck. The 2 mile hike back down wasn't very pleasent in soggy shorts...

Two Days...

I got two days of fishing coming up and I'm more than pumped. It's gonna be hot as torment but I won't be working...so who cares! Right?

Friday I'll be chasing trout in probably low, clear water which makes for difficult conditions for my big, clumsy rear. This will be a return trip for this stream already this year, but it has become one of my favorite. Friend of mine somehow found a 14" brown in there last week...I hope to get a good look at him too. He kindly released him since I told him where I'd go fish if I had a day off.

Saturday I'm going slumming for bluegill and smallies on a local "near and dear" stream. The section we'll be on forces me to take a dip or two, it could be floated easily but we're tough and stupid and end up swimming in a couple deep pools. Not to fear though, the water is very slack. What that means on the bad point of view is...no pictures...as I don't own a waterproof camera yet.

Well, posts to come next week with details and I hope good news!

Headwater Bushwackin'

With only hours to go before standing in the firing line of my cousin's wedding, I managed to sneak out for a few hours to the headwaters of one of my favorite streams. This section is tough, with super cagey fish and very tight places...but it's worth it. Three of us made the trip up, anxious to sling some dry flies and try some new sections of this stream. The campers and hikers were out in abundance but thankfully we didn't see any other fisherman. It's always a shock to see so many campers and hikers that don't fish, not that I mind or anything...

As you can see in the next picture it would probably help if I read the local news from time to time. I miss the very local goings on...like rock slides. You see, I live in one county but work in another, so I tend to read the paper from the county I work in. But, this dandy little rock slide didn't keep a worn out Ford and a very worn out Toyota from fishing. Heck, I'm sure I coulda locked the hubs and climbed that sucker if I needed to...agree?

The three of us decided to slipt up. I took the top section and the two of them played hopscotch on the lower section. Upon tying on an elk hair caddis and making my first cast I was rewarded with a surprise...a nice 7" brookie. A brook isn't very rare for this creek but fairly rare as mostly browns and rainbows call it home. I was seconds from a picture when he escaped me. As we all know when the first cast is easy and you think, "Man, this is going to be an excellent day", most often it turns out to be a bust. This wasn't exactly true but the fishing was very difficult for my eight foot sage. If I had any brains I would leave my little 6 footer in the truck for such a dance as this one but I'm a dofus and I love my sage. Cheating on her hurts sometimes.

At the end of the day as I worked my way as high as you could possibly fish, numerous trout were landed and my partner in crime pulled a super nice brown from a very unlikely spot just above a well used camping area...with campers in it. We were happily shocked.

I normally never loose but a fly or two but this stream, I should say, this stream's laurel took many a fly from me this day. I went monkey on a couple to get them back. For some stupid reason I've taken up tying my own flies, I guess now I can afford to loose a couple...???...

Where I been...

I been hidin. Not really. Been fishing twice since my last post but not much to report. Took the entire family...well, a good bit of them, up to Helton DH for a go 'round with the stockers. But, when we arrived it was HIGH and MUDDDDDDDY. Like pumpin' hot nestle quick without the marshmellows. I do think everyone landed at least one fish. I managed to help my little fragile sis onto a good size brookie. The ONLY place a fish could be found was in the rare and few dead spots on the edges of a run. I slipped up on her while she was still getting the hang of the open face spin rod. I told her, I would bet a couple bucks a fish is waiting for you just behind that big log. That big log slowed the water enough for a fish to hang on in the hydro force mud bath. She couldn't get the cast down so I forced her to get her little toes wet, try mulitple casts and finally it was WHAMMY on a spec. She was pumped. The other highlight was of course watching my son have a blast throwing sticks, rocks, sticks, rocks and rocks in the water. He WILL be an outdoorsman...I'm almost confident.



Most recently, on a whim, Joey and I tried a stream marked as C&R just off the parkway. Dude, what a bust! I'd give the name but I'm gonna save my embarssment cause I'd guess somebody would laugh at us for even trying this hole. I knew quick when we pulled a couple of them stoopid shiners from suspecting holes that the creek was a bust. We high tailed it back out, drove to investigate another stream and then rolled back off the mountain. All I can say is the stream was almost pitiful enough to put me in a fish depression. I almost stopped at the grocery store just to go remind myself what a trout looks like. I can't speak of it anymore or I'll put all my junk on ebay.....kidding!

Hang on for a more decent report this weekend. I got something better up my sleeve.


later

Liquid gold rainbows...

The three day weekend! Ah, the thought of knowing no return for work on the dreaded Monday, 3 days of true un-worked bliss. In this day and age I'm more than grateful to have a job, I live in the one of the hardest hit areas in the US, but I still get the working blues. In my field of work I deal with those businesses struggling to survive and it takes a mental toll on a man. But, back to the issue at hand...no work for 3 days! The idea of a repeat camping/fishing trip like last year's Memorial Day weekend sounded great, but this particular one only held about a 1/3 of that amount of free time.

Early Saturday morning Joey and I headed a little north of our town to smack around some wild rainbows. This stream is his "teeth cutting" ground and he talks of it as if it spew forth liquid gold. But, to an addicted fly fisherman I suppose hungry, wicked-mean bows are liquid gold.

We arrived and finally got the felt wet at around 6:45am and we were very pleased nobody else would give us company. We passed numerous campers in the lower elevations but not at our desired location for the day. We only had about a half day as usual so the stream had to be close and not too much of a walk. Upon initial inspection absolutely no bugs were coming off so we just went with the faithful dry/dropper combo. I rigged up a orange stimiulator with a pheasant tail dropper...a tiny one at that.

My stick of choice today was knocking the dust off the ultralight 3 weight basspro combo..."white river" that call it. I know lots of people, including me, have to start with combos that the big box stores provide due to cost of entry for fly fishing, but this set up is premium in my opinion. It was not a starter rod for me (and not priced as such). I purchased it because it looked and sounded so awesome...and indeed it is. It truely is ULTRALIGHT. I'm not sure but I'd bet it's right at 1 ounce or less and came equipped with a tiny reel that only holds about half of the yardage a normal reel would wrap.

Okay, enough on equipment, hows about the fish!? Well, started out SLOOOOW. Took us about an hour to really get some action. After the sun popped out things picked up quickly. We landed too many to count and a few really good ones. Most all came on the nymph unless we were casting to the more shallow runs or pockets. This stream is a ton of fun and has some excellent pockets and pools. It also has a tremendous population of small trout, which will be great for years to come.

The highlight of the day came while Joey was working one of the largest pools on the creek. The pool had two definite runs, one of each side that spanned probably 40 feet. He just happened to see a nice fish rise and gave him an offering. And WHAM it was on like stink on a donkey. The bow was determined to give his TFO 3 weight a run for the money. I quickly said, "horse that sucker up or you'll be in that laurel." My advise was too late, so in the bush they went, rod dropped and line in hand. He managed him out untangled and realized that boss was crowding 10 inches and had the attitude of a detoxing metal head. A real pig for this tiny stream.

In the end we really did loose count and were surprised and some of the areas we pulled fish from. I even managed one between two blowdowns you couldn't even cast to, I simply eased the fly down, hooked a fish and hoisted him up. I've never had that kinda luck, no matter how big a horseshoe I haul in the back of the 'yota.

Our list of streams to fish continues to grow. I'm thankful for the time and opportunity so close to home.

Thanks for reading, now go catch a fish.

Bluegillin' again...

Ahhh, the weekend again. Nothing beats free time and not having to listen to "The Man" tell you when and where and how. If I ever have to work weekends I better get 3 days off during the week. Don't think I could take it.

This weekend didn't have much time for fishing. Me and my favorite buddy (two year old son "Bubba") spent the better part of Saturday just riding around and scouting some streams. He's still kinda small to be fishing any kind of technical streams...by that I mean streams without a solid, flat bank so he don't fall in over his head. It was wonderful to see most all the high country streams around here flowing good, he loved all the waterfalls.

Late in the day my father-in-law and I took a small jon boat we use from time to time over to a local pond a friend of mine has on his land. We mainly set out just to make sure the boat doesn't leak before we hit a few long float trips in the next couple months. This pond is within 5 minutes of my house which is very awesome. The father-in-law wore me out and didn't mind letting me know. I figure I let him since he let me marry his daughter and all. He was flippin plastic grubs and I was working a popper/dropper combo. I landed a great number of bluegill but the crappies appeared to prefer that little plastic grub as they totally snubbed me. A little rain fell for no more than 2 mintues and the action flat out stopped. I mean, d-e-a-d stopped. So, we packed her up and went home. Not bad for two hours of fishing. Beats answering to "The Man". Did I say that already?

Blown Out Wild Brookies

After a break in the rain we've been getting, the clouds decided to part and give a man a dry hat for a few hours on Saturday. And I must say we had a most excellent day on a wild brook trout stream. We arrived at our "secret" stream at about 6:45am to hear it's normal trickle sound like rushing whitewater. I assumed this stream would have been a good bet for almost normal flows even after all the rain we've gotten over the past two weeks, man did I get surprised! I'm more than thrilled to see the rain after the two years of drought we've had. I told someone 10 inches of rain is a blessing, but all 10 inches don't have to come in 10 minutes. We've had some true frog stranglers lately.

I couldn't help but notice that while at the truck suiting up we were almost dive bombed by what appeared to be some type of morning dun mayfly. I didn't get a good pic but they were very orange in color. So orange I actually didn't have anything in my box that matched it exactly but got pretty darn close with something good enough to bend the rod multiple times.

The only downfall to our day was the flow. Most big holes or runs were flowing so fast with so much hydro they became a waste of time. The Lord did see fit to shine on us though and we landed our fair share of wild brookies. Had the water not been flowing so hard I'm confident that strong hatch of duns woulda proved to be the ticket. I landed nearly all of mine on top with a orange colored stimulator and a few with a tiny bead head, lead wrapped stonefly with a little orange flash. The stoneflies were also coming off strong along with a few yellow sallie type mayflies. Our selection of what to throw was numerous but those duns were coming off by the dozen.

Pushing 11:45am and nearing the end of our alloted time a monster for this creek decided to give us a skipped heartbeat. A very large trout played hide and seek with us for about 20 minutes in a wonderful little pool that held a few nice ones. I had already commited to give my bud this hole since I worked the last one and landed a nice 9 incher. Working the hole in style a smaller fish smacked his dry a few times at the end of the run and shortly after he got all tangled up in a blowdown. "Ah!, what a shame", I said. "No way you can get up there, untangle and not spook that hole." It sounded good and he agreed (it was the truth, seriously). After about two casts the big boy rolled on me but gave me the big DECLINE for what I offered. We both tried and tried (I finally inched up enough to unhook my buddy's fly) for almost 20 minutes but had to hit the road. We'll be back without a doubt and see if he'll hit next time. That fish was nice enough that I would have worked and worked until he hit but we simply didn't have enough time.

I should also note the worst part of the trip was when my partner decided to fall in the stream. I often tell people you always hear about how a man could actually drown in 6 inches of water. Well, apparently that's true (he didn't actually drown thankfully, but I understand better now). He's the only man I know who could get soaked if he was wearing a body suit and standing in a mud puddle. It actually was a very scary fall between two rocks with a quick flow of water and about a 3 foot drop. Good to see he lived, it's hard finding someone who wants to flyfish as much as me and I'd hate to have to go back to solo fishing....just kidding!

And check out this awesome orange salamander. A feller over at the southeastern boards informed me it's a newt of sorts that goes through stages which includes color changes. Go figure! All these years in the woods and on a stream and a first for me.

Well, it was a tremendous day on the water and neither of us forgot mother's day for our baby momma's (wives). Which means we lived to fish another day!

Helton Creek DH

Made it out Saturday with the wife and kid to fish Ashe County's DH at Helton Creek. My wife actually really enjoys to fish and she is very good...I've taught her well. She only spin fishes and has no desire to try the fly rod and I can't blame her a bit. It does seem difficult at first and she's very happy landing fish after fish on the spin rod.

The day was to be an annual outing of about 6 of us family, but due to some sickness just us 3 hit the road. The skies had threatened some rain all day but we only got a very short sprinkle around 1pm. The fishing was pretty good, she landed about 8 or so in less than probably 3 hours of fishing.

Helton, in it's infancy of a DH stream, was awesome. Not to say it still isn't an excellent stocker stream but the line of folks fishing seems endless. The road follows the stream the entire stretch and it's tough to find a good hole or stretch of more than 50 yards to fish to yourself. The first time I fished it I was almost new to trout fishing and new to living in Boone. I went often and learned a ton and caught a ton of fish. Now it seems everyone, along with their brother, knows it exists. I don't really mind at all but it makes it tough to fish when so many folks could care less about giving another man a little room. To lots of people around here that is all they know, stocked streams. The NC Wildlife commission does an excellent job with providing numerous streams to just catch some fish. I commend their efforts.

On the first stop she landed a very nice rainbow on the first cast of the day. I was very thrilled to see this as I figured every trout in the stream had a sore lip by the time we got there, which was about noon. The biggest of the day was about a 14 incher of a very good looking speckled rainbow. And one thing for sure, they sure can grow some big brookies in those tanks.

My son, who is two and a true gift, had a blast just getting completely dirty and tossing rocks, sticks, and whatever else he could pick up into the water. He also loved helping "release" the fish back into the water. A more proper word for him would be "throw" the fish back into the water. We were very careful each one was unharmed. The fly rod got a rest as my hands were full keeping my son from jumping in and taking the fish on my wife's hook. I also was too tied up to take many good pics but I got a few. Each trout was caught on the old faithful "coachdog" rooster tail patter in a 1/8th ounce.

This weekend should find me on a secret wild brookie stream. I hope my SAGE didn't get his feelings hurt too bad just hiding in the back of the truck on this trip...I'll make it up to him with the agressive brookies.

Wild fish in the rain

This past weekend I took by father and bro-in-law into some wilderness in search of the wild trout. I have been the designated guide over the years in the trout world as I'm the one hitting the streams. I grew up in a bass boat with my father, which is much fun in itself, but took up the chase of trout while in college some years back.

I don't know why it is but sometimes it seems when you plan a big trip some kinda weather front will move in to hamper things, and this trip was no exception. But, as an avid outdoorsman constantly chasing things than swim, climb or grunt, I realize it often can increase your chances of success. This particular trip proved the nasty rain front was just what we should have ordered.

So quickly after church we took off to a destination new to my bro-in-law as in the past I normally take him to hatchery streams. However, over the last couple years I've been draggin him to more remote and less worn out water. He just likes to catch fish but I've been trying to come up with new ideas for us as our time to fish together is back to normal since he moved closer back home.

After suiting up at the stream I tied on a #16 para march brown and was quickly awarded with the beauty of a brown pictured above. You can't miss the unmistakable red markings on this brown, a real jewel of a fish. I somehow missed three strikes before finally getting to the top of the run where this much larger fish gave a strike a kid could land. He was just perfect and gave up a great little fight. I thought at this point I wouldn't bother with a dropper but just as that thought ended here came the rain. Never heavy really but very steady. It seemed to end any dry fly action so I quickly went to a #18 BH Prince. This was again my ticket that never needed changing but once...when an overhanging limb stole it...stinkin trees.

We landed numerous fish, probably 15+ total with each an equal #. My bro-in-law took the larger fish, a boss of a brown with his trusty rooster tail. I wasn't undone though and followed him up with another brown of near equal size taken from a very unlikely run in shallower water. Here are the two of them:

I was more than thrilled to simply know a trout of this size was hanging around in this stream but even more thrilled when he landed it. He somehow managed to bring three fish out of this same hole with the larger one being the last to bite.

All in all the day was right on, sometimes you just have to grin and bare weather conditions that just don't feel right at first. Like my dad said on the way up, "the way I see it, the fish are already wet, it'll only bother us." (he's a quick thinker) We had a great time fishing and joking constantly. I'm a dang moron anyhow so all my better friends have an excellent sense of humor.

Oh, I almost forgot. But first! For all you babies who cry when a wild fish dies...you might want to go grab a tissue. Anyhow, my dad layed the SMACK DOWN on a rainbow. Poor little feller didn't know what was coming when he "over-set" the hook. Pulled that booger right out of the water and straight down onto some rocks. That was it for him. It was clearly an accident as these wild fish, no matter their size, can strike like king kong. We had to laugh as we had no other choice. I tried fish CPR for about 10 seconds and woulda brought out the paddles but we left them in the truck. Dad was upset but fish are fish and he didn't intend for it to happen. Wait, I feel like I'm apologizing or something. Now I need a tissue...

Well, until next trip...tight lines and long live the wild trout (unless my dad is fishing and you better learn how to fly)!

More wild feshin'

Following the most excellent fishing trip with my son on Saturday my fellow fishing partner and I hit some wild water after Sunday morning church. The weather was just perfect and so was the water. We took out right after service and took my old yota' while I continued to push it's limits on a dirt road for many miles into some local wilderness. I just can't name the stream as I feel it's a smack in the face as it's whereabouts are already nowhere near a secret. Its steep trail to the stream does continue to keep a great deal of folks at bay, which is a great thing. I'd put up a gate if the NCWRC would let me!

After hitting the trail and eating a pack lunch on the hike in we finally geared up and began casting at around 12ish. No hatches were coming off which was a big surprise given the temps but we quickly started catching fish. I landed quite a few wild bows in the 6-8 inch range on a prince nymph in about a #18 or so. I don't tie flies so knowing exactly what size the hook is when I open the box is near impossible for me and sometimes seems downright pointless. So, at this point I don't really care. But I do recognize enough to know I drug it behind a #12 march brown parachute with about 12"-14" inches of tippet. This combo proved to by my only flies for the day, there was no need to switch because I hit it right on the money for once and luckily didn't have to fumble around diggin through my box all afternoon.

The first bow didn't hang around long enough for a pic but took the prince in a quick run feeding a large pool. After a couple hours I began missing and getting more and more strikes on the march brown and the tippet became frayed, so I clipped off the prince and went DRY solo. It turned out to be the ticket from about 2-4pm. This stream has plenty of fish in it but on this clear water day they proved to be the wiser. My big clumsy rear gets a little anxious at times so I scared a few into a coma I think. All of the fish landed and seen this day were bows with one beautiful brown who took the dry. To my dismay the pic turned out a little fuzzy (seen above).

In the end I probably landed 5 or so and missed twice and many and embarrsingly spooked too many to name. This stream was running near perfect levels and will remain on my top 5 list. And props to my fishin partner in crime...that joker can cast a stinkin' 80 foot roll cast I think. Maybe he'll lend me those skills one day...

"Let me throw it in!"

One of the most fun things to me nowadays about hunting and fishing is taking along my 2 year old son. The boy is a flat out blast to be around and he naturally loves the outdoors. If it's possible for such a thing to be "bred" into a human then he has no option.

On this past beautifully warm Saturday we hit a family pond just up the road. The bluegill that call this place home are ALWAYS hungry and would hit a blasted hopper in December. Gotta love ponds! We switched it up, caught about half on a live cricket with the bobber and dad took his fair share with a dry hopper. Just tons of fun.

His main part was throwing the fish back in the water. "LET ME THROW IT IN!" was the recurring statement heard over and over as we pulled fish after fish out of this pond. I love it!

What a Crappie Afternoon...

My cousin who is an addicted crappie fishermen agreed to take me along on the past Tuesday afternoon in hopes they would be bitin' just as well as he had seen past couple weeks. We also figured with the big front moving in it may help or hurt, you just never know. Lake fishing is like that, you take what you get and sudden changes in pressure can turn them on or off quick.

So, just as quick as I could drive I sped outta work Tuesday around 5'oclock and the both of us were in the boat and on the water by 6. With the extra daylight hours now this is great fun after a long day at work.

We put in at the waterworks ramp on Lake Rhodhiss. This is a home lake for us no doubt as we live less than 10 minutes from this body of water. It gets overlooked I think as a destination due to size and it's proximity to much larger lakes but it's a great fishery. My cousin had simply been wearin' them out past few weeks. Our main target were tree laps both in the coves and on the main channel edges. We worked mainly a plastic shad with a chartreuse tail. Actually we were dippin the solid white shad into a garlic dip that stained them permanently. My cousin is a dang lunatic when it comes to fishing. He shares the same need to feel a fish on the end of a line and probably fishes over 100 days per year. He however loves the crappie more than the trout so at this point I can't get him into fly fishing too much. I can't blame him really, he catches plenty and owns a boat. Fly fishing on a lake is a totally different challenge and even one I don't care much for unless the topwater action is hot.

Anyway, back to the fishing. Our first effort was around a tree lap that he had just discovered late last week. While we pulled into the cove he told me a story about how the homeowner in the monster mansion on the point was down by his dock the other day with shotgun in tow trying to take out some muskrats. Those ugly water rats can do some massive damage to boats and anything that floats. Well, it wasn't long and here came one of them nastly devils. And, shortly thereafter the homeowner slid out the backdoor with his breakdown shotgun by his side. We talked to him for a minute and surprisingly enough he was just as country as us and a very nice fellar. He informed us he took two of them out last week and how they had caused him $2500 in damage to the wiring on his pontoon boat. We then gave him a tip on the one we saw and headed to another tree lap. Most rich folks on our water are typically of the "city" kind who moved here to live on OUR water. Well, not really OURS, but you get the point. I can share with anyone who is kind.

By dark we landed about 10 or so along with the agressive bluegill here and there. I never did break out the fly rod and worked the same shad the whole time on an ultralight setup. We never did get into a gang of them but we gave it more than a big effort and had a great time as expected. My cousin is about as looney as me and we've hung around each other our whole lives. So, when we're together we're catching fish, chasin coon dogs, or deer hunting and always laughing.

And, I know, a good blog is USELESS without pictures...but I left the camera the truck by being in a big hurry. My bad.

Thanks for reading. Nothing but rain here for next few days and lots of it, probably won't hit some water for another week.

Blueline Wild 'Bows

After a week of having a blast in Disney it was back to reality and back to potentially hitting a new stream. Following a good bit of discussion my buddy and I decided on a blueline that is new to us. He had scouted it out a little by truck a week or so back and noted it held plenty of potential. And, we talked to other local friends who had fished the area before and claimed it was indeed worth a shot.

So, after a half day of much needed yard work we left out shortly after noon. The drive was nice as usual and the weather was tremendous. We knew that around 2pm the air temps would peak and we hoped that would also warm the water enough to spark some hatches. We couldn't have appeared to be anymore of a bug genious by around 2:30. The bugs were coming off by the hundreds and the fish got active QUICK.

Unfortunately the pic is out of focus but this is one of the many who made an appearance for about 45 minutes. It was great to see such activity on a wild stream on March 21st. I quickly grabbed a #16 BWO and went to work. We basically stream hopped each other as the widest point in the creek was maybe 10 feet with tons of blowdowns, laurel and anything else to prevent a man from casting. Roll cast and bow and arrow were the main tools of the day.

The hatch began to dwindle down about as quick as it began but the fish continued to cooperate and hit the dries over and over. As usual we missed many more than we landed, or at least I did. My buddy wore me out this time, I think he got upset when I worked him over a few weeks back on some native brookies. Plus, I was a little rusty and sore from the yard work...and this stream was not one to get fancy with. The blowdowns would eat you up if you thought you were gonna get fancy.

We basically finished up the day on the largest pool where a couple more made a fool of me. I had went to a dry/dropper combo due to the depth of the final pool. My indicator fly was a #12 yellow stimulator that I intended to only be an indicator. To my complete shock I missed a tremdous SMACK on the stimi. That's the novice coming back out in me I suppose. It always happens when you switch your footing or go to pick a mayfly out of your nose.

All in all it

was a great day on a great stream with a great hatch. We only fished about 1/4 of what this stream has to offer so it'll get a repeat fer sure. I suspect as we get higher we may get lucky with some brookies.