A Week With The Folks

Even before they arrived my folks had requested a fly fishing lesson. So it was no surprise that when they touched down it was still high on their list of things to do.

We headed up to Big M Fishery in Lincoln. The guys at Big M took excellent care of us by providing shuttle service to and from the fishing area and even unloading our gear from the golf cart.

We spent the first hour or so going over casting instruction, as neither had ever fly fished. They both picked it up very rapidly and were soon out at the 30-40 ft range. Time for fishing with flies! A quick lesson on retrieving the fly and line control and they were off. Armed with their new casting skills and some buggers we started to probe the depths in search of some hungry fish.

Within minutes my Mom's line began to swim away and her voice cracked with excitement when she she yelled "Adrian, Adrian, what do I do?" Unfortunately not enough pressure was applied and the pull on the end of the line ceased. Another small explanation about fighting fish with barbless hooks and we were back to it. The first strip of the second cast resulted in another fish pulling on the end of the line. This time, determined to keep good tension during the fight, the fish arrived at the bank. This was my mother's first fish ever! Although not a monster by most measurements it was definitely huge for for the two of us and will be one that will not be forgotten. The look in her eyes as she touched its fins and then said 'thanks' as it swam away will stick with me forever.
As fatherhood aproaches me, I have spent even more time reflecting upon my past and things I would like to change for the future. I have a great appreciation for the sacrafices my parrents made, which have allowed me many great opportunities. Thanks for everthing Mom and Dad and for a great day out on the water. Looking forward to our next outing.

Also a special thanks to Shawn Pittard for his help throughout the day and for capturing some great pix.

The tug is the drug
Adrian

Salt For Steelhead?

The muggy air caused every pore in my body to open and spit as we stepped outside. It was also a soothing break for my bone-dry eyes which had just endured 8 hours of recycled, fart filled airplane air. Yea baby, we are no longer in Kansas and there probably isn't a steelhead within 2000 miles. But we were in Mexico and on a quest for another chrome fish, Tarpon and the possibility of a slam.

We were hurried into a shuttle to head off to the place we would call home for the next few days. Before we even departed from the airport we were questioned by one of our shuttle-mates repeatedly about our plans. You know the type, the ones who can't stop talking. This guy had a very close vocal resemblance to Zed (Bobcat Goldthwait) from Police Academy. His voice almost cracking as he released his excited words in an not quite yelling but not quite talking voice. He even pulled out a bank wrapped wad of 100 one dollar bills, explaining that " this is the only way to go in Mexico....tip with lots of singles and you can get anything you want here!" I would have paid at least and extra $20 to be the next ones off the shuttle but our fate was sealed. We got to spend the following half-hour hearing about all his previous travels and his plans while in Cancun.

Once we arrived at our abode (The Blue Bay Club), checked in, cranked the AC, and got our first cervasa we were finally at ease. Now only a single res less night lay between us and some stalking on the flats (a few more cervasa and a good Cuban cigar made quick work of the evening).

The first morning started off with a short boat ride from the marina. The channel inlet into the lagoon area was like something out of a movie. Apocalypse Now flashed through my mind as we turned the first corner and got a view of the thick green vegetation surrounding the channel and lagoon. I was even so in ah that I didn't even reach for the camera.

We began by casting into the numerous holes along the edges of the mangroves. Because the water in this lagoon was quite deep we were pretty much blind casting to areas that looked good or to the rings left by a fish that had rolled. The entire time that we were back in this area fish were rolling back up in the mangroves and along their edges. The casting was somewhat tight and the gaps we were aiming for were sometimes only a foot or two wide with overhanging branches! We jumped a number of fish but most made one jump and then headed straight for the mangroves which caused one of two outcomes; a break-off or the fish coming unbuttoned. We did land one nice Snook.

The balance of the first day we spent outside of the mangroves on the flats. We had a few shots at some Bones and Permit but no fish to hand. A front also moved in and brought with it a good dose of wind and some heavy chop.

Day 2 was a complete bust as the winds were very high. In addition to the heavy chop it also caused very significant changes to the tides. The areas we attempted to fish for tarpon were quite high and it was our guides thought that most of the fish were back up in the groves instead of cruising on the edges.

The third day began with a beautiful sunrise and very light winds. 'Time to make up for yesterday' was running through my head as we tootled out through the marina. And it just so happened that was exactly what lay ahead of us.

We covered a few flats searching for the Bones and Permit. We did see three or four schools of bones but they were all on the move. We also came across a few Permit but just like the bones they were completely on the move. The next few hours we spend back up in a series of lagoons and channels sight casting to Tarpon and the action was unbelievable and almost non stop. This is what we had come for and we got our fair share. There is something sweet about spotting, casting to, and leading a fish until your fly disappears into the mouth of a crazy, pissed off Tarpon. A millisecond later the fish 5 feet out of the water thrashing. I have yet to experience anything else like it.

This trip was put together by Keith Kaneko of Angling On The Fly. Kieth has numerous destinations around the world that are all top notch. If you are considering a destination please give Keith a call as I am sure he will have something that will far exceed your expectations.

A Week On The Big Horn

I spent the following week on the Big Horn River with a group of guides from Sweetwater Travel and I can not say enough good things about the experience. I learned a lot of new tips/tricks and definitely expanded my list of fishing destinations.

The weather held nicely and we even got into some surface fish during the early stages of the olive hatch. The most productive techniques were stripping streamers and dead drifted nymphs but I did find a few good stretches of swing water in the lower river.


The grab and first run of these fish were as good as most of the valley halfpounders, they just didn't make multiple runs and put of a fuss when being landed.



The average fish was 15-16 in with a few fish in the 20+ range.

This is a great place and I am sure that I will return. I would love to see this place when the dry flies are going strong during the summer.

The tug is the drug
Adrian

Icy Guides In The Big Sky State

I fished a few runs on the Madison today and I now know why some call it a continuous riffle river. I drove past literally miles of riffles. The picture doesn't quite due it enough justice.


I have totally become spoiled by the weather in California over the past few years. It was 13 degrees when I jumped out of the truck and got suited up. A quick nip form the flask seemed to dull the sting in my fingers before getting into the water.

The water did not provide much in the way of relief and was actually my demise. As there was very little activity on the water (not even any midges flying about) I decided to swing some big ugly sculpin patterns. The below pattern is one of my favorites but a piece of rabbit with some flash would probalby work just as well (this one just has a little more soul).

About half way down the run I had a hard grab and my rod tip dipped deep into the water but no line peeled off the reel and the fish jerked to freedom. "What the hell?" ran quickly through my mind but upon closer inspection my reel had completely frozen and required a few hard pulls of the running line to free things up. I should have known as I was required to chip the ice out of my guides two times prior to the reel disaster.

The last picture is just in case you were unsure if there was any ice along the river.

Well I have another week and a half out here and things are looking up. The weather is about to break and they are expecting temps in the 40's and maybe even the 50's by mid week!!!

I also bumped into a Missoula local and he recommended checking out a spring creek on private ranch over near Livingston. It is Rainbow spawning season and the ranch has a good stretch of water they must travel through to get up to there gravel. So here I am held up in a motel in Livingston eagerly awaiting tomorrow.

The tug is the drug.
Adrian