Overgrown Goldfish – Carp
My last qualified fish before I became unqualified for the Mixed-Bag tourney was a Carp. Some people apparently get ‘fever’ from this.
While I am not one in on the ‘Carp-Craze’- I was intrigued at the gold color and symmetry of its scales. For the record, and not to be a total hater- the fish did fight well and put a big bend in the rod. But in the end I still think Carp are ugly fish. For those of you who don’t. I’ve made the featured photo above. I made it with my iPad on Autodesk Sketchbook Pro, and you can use it as a wallpaper/background for the electronic device of your choosing; for free!
See you on the high ground,
AirborneAngler
D-day plus 155 (D+155)
Cease fire, cease fire!
Everyone, I have an announcement to make…
I will no longer be a participant in the main contest of the Texas Hill Country Mixed Bag Tourney. Sad as this sounds, the AirborneAngler is not out of ranks. In fact, its more of a promotion. As a new Editor for TexasRiverBum.com, organizer of the Mixed Bag Tourney, I am no longer eligible as staff. I will be participating in the staff and sponsor running- which, oddly enough puts me in first place!!! Aside from Mike, everyone you’re welcome.
I am excited to be on the TRB team (does this make me Pro?) and look forward to the new challenges in my fly fishing adventures to ever be… “on the high ground”.
See you there,
AirborneAngler
Folly 12 o’clock high
“One last cast,” that’s what I told myself as I cast my new, super-short, 3wt fly rod. I went to Brushy Creek for lunch because the itch to learn the feel of my Cabela’s CGR fiberglass rod was insatiable. The short 5’9″ set up was exactly what I needed working this creek. Like many waters running through the Texas Hill Country, Brushy Creek is exactly that- brushy, overgrown with not-a-lotta room to work with. Clearance is limited and this little glass fly rod was just the ticket to tackle it.
The only fish that came to hand was a nice little bass. The fun thing I am learning on fiberglass is how the rod doubles over no matter the size of fish. When I said one last cast (again)- I double checked my watch. If I didn’t run back to the office- literally run… I wasn’t going to make my one o’clock meeting. Not allowed to be late I did like any good paratrooper would do; I did the airborne shuffle back on in.
I made it on time… barely.
Foolish as it may have been to risk being late for a lunch time fish- making it on time by the skin of my teeth made that little bass that much larger.
Go fish something.
See you on the high ground,
AirborneAngler
D-Day plus 141 (D+141)
Confirmation Carp- tango (target) down!
There you have it folks, the bottom line is up front. Memorial Day 2012 the hex of the golden ghost MIA on my Texas Hill Country Mixed Bag campaign was broken.
Fishing began late in the weekend on Sunday afternoon due to other previous engagements. Being somewhat in the area, I first made way to the Frio River at and below Garner State Park thru to Concan, Tx. Two words- epic fail. Being the Memorial Day weekend with river-goers out in force, every point of access along the Frio River was maxed out to capacity and then some. Such to the extent that I could only assume there was no solace to be found even places in between. So, I moved on.
This brought me to the far eligible areas of the Mixed Bag tourney on the Nueces River. As fate and the Texas heat would have it, this too was no-go as well. Starting in Uvalde, Tx I found the Nueces to be all dried up with hardly a spits worth of dual-hydrogenated mono-oxygen to be found. Greatly depressed I moved up river with higher hopes and less expectations.
With slowly diminishing day light I pressed up north checking each access point for a possible throw in as the flow trickled in. These points too held cooler-laden, lawn chair-toting, folks as well- but to a much lesser degree. Finally, I found an unassuming point which was very hidden away that I was able to put in at. A resident/swimmer in the area making the beer run from the near by pool to her truck cooler noticed me rigging up. The conversation was short and she feinted kindness. I was greeted, questioned where I was from, how I found the spot, and friendly reminded to have my fishing license close on hand. Apparently, the local game warden “Javie” in the area was quick to ask and check for licenses. Oh, and I was advised to stay off the banks- the “other neighbors” were quick to ask people to step off their property as well.
Undeterred, I raced into the cool clear water. Being used to the stained Colorado River, and more recently the equally stained Guadalupe, I was astonished at the swimming pool clarity. Kindly greeting and passing by the resident’s flock of companions I pushed up river. When I hit the first bend in the Nueces is where I bumped in to fish. The first was a good-sized Redbreast sunfish, who true to form, fought like a bass thrice his size.
Next in contact was an equally sized slab of Rio Grande Perch. I am always amazed by the beauty of thier markings. They never cease to cause my head to cant and release smile. Shortly thereafter I was near assaulted by some freaky-sized, top-water, wolf spider-looking arachnid. Shrieked like a girl. Then, I shrieked like a girl again when escaping the man-eating spider coming within a foot of a man-eating snake. Fortunately, no one was around to pull my man card and you have to accept/believe me when I say they both had fierce fangs and ugly scowls.
With the impending end-of-evening nautical twilight upon me I headed back in. While fishing the Nueces and scouting the Frio rivers was fun- I did have a hit list I had to get to; and I knew exactly where my target was. So, I packed up and took the longest possible country road route to the Pedernales Falls State Park. The Pedernales River is where I would find my tango gathered in mass. With the drive weighing in on me I settled in a half hour shy at the Lyndon B. Johnson National Historic Park. Not planning on camping until the moment, I made due to sleep in my vehicle. As you can imagine the slumber was not the best but I made due- sacrifices had to be made. Before I knew it I was back up and racing to beat the sun rise to assault the water.
Because we know where it goes from here I’ll try keep it short. For a solid 3 hours no carp cared for what I cast. Giving up all my carp targeting flies I tied on old faithful; Dave’s Flying Cat. The flying cat has been my go-to fly for this entire tourney. This time it did not disappoint either. I had basically given up on carp and started aiming for drum. I pushed off from the carp sanctuary pool I had been swatting the surface at and moved further down the Pedernales River. Then across the bank I saw a shadow. I cast to it swiftly. In a blur whatever the flying cat had landed behind turned and simply took the offering.
Fellow fly anglers say their precious carp are intelligent, or instinctivvely intelligent. I say they are dumb trash fish who spook at the sign of anything; rain drop, fly on the water, anything. Call me a hater sure- but they do put up a good fight. This one took several good runs that made me put him on the reel. I was worried he’s break the 4x leader I had on line. But at the end of the day, I won. See how he turns his head in shame?
Recap, three Texas Hill Country rivers, two days, one carp. Winning.
See you on the high ground,
AirborneAngler
Dirty Worm (Micro Worming)
Spoiler Alert: The contents of this post contain non-traditional fly fishing techniques. Purist read at your own risk.
What is micro worming? Well, I call it dirty fly fishing- but fly fishing none the less. It’s simple, high-stick-dead-drift a Texas rigged soft plastic worm on a bone fish hook… and voilá! You are micro worming.
Purist argument- it’s not fly fishing. Not a dry fly. You didn’t tie it. Dirty dirty dirty.
Rebuttal: If you don’t tie your own flies already- you have no room to talk. Just my opinion. So, purists may have a point there in the fly. For non purists, it’s just another underwater pattern. However, the technique, high-stick-dead-drifting is a fly fishing technique; and the delivery system is still a fly rod and fly line.
So, what’s not fly fishing about?
Maybe you can call it more fly catching? All I know is this technique is deadly on Small Mouth Bass and Guadalupe Bass.
If the guy who taught me this wants credit for this technique- admit your guilt in the comments below. I’ll reference, cite, and hyperlink below for the annals of history to credit your infamy fame. If you want to deny the genius of the dirty worm and hide in shame- I’ll never admit your name rhymes with ‘Dave’.
Promise.
See you on the high ground,
AirborneAngler
UPDATED: I found this dirty little secret here.
OD Damsel DP
New fly boxes demand new flies. Not by merit of the box being new- but in the likely scenario that it’s a larger fly box and there’s more space for more flies. So let the fly tying begin!
In stalking Redhorse and Carp for the Texas Hill Country Mixed Bag Tourney– I’ve learned to tie a new fly for my casting arsenal.
Disclaimer- sharpshooters be warned; I suck at tying flies and as with many things in life I learn misguided. Or in cases of less failure- by the numbers, crawl, walk, run.
The intent here is to tie a fly both a Carp and a Redhorse are willing to take; dual purpose. For the clever- you now understand this jacked up hybrid fly’s nomenclature: OD Damsel-DP.
To be clear, I am a fan of neither Carp or Redhorse suckers. However, i personally believe fly tying adds a new dynamic to the full enjoyment of fly fishing. So if and when I catch a Carp or Redhorse on one of my own self tied flies- I’ll be proud I caught it on a OD Damsel-DP; size 16.
See you on the high ground,
AirboneAngler
Stalking Redhorse
The first thing you will notice is that there is no photo to accompany this post. The reason being lies in the dynamic of the word “stalking”. I did not choose “secured” or “caught” because I have done neither with the Redhorse; I have only been stalking it.
Participating in what possibly might be the “Best Fly Fishing Tournament in Texas“, I have been actively pursuing the Redhorse on the Guadalupe River for the Texas Hill Country Mixed Bag tourney to no avail.
Alas, all (both) my attempts have been in vain and the Guadalupe River has denied me. So, this is a net call to all my fellow fly fishing anglers. I need your help. All previous patterns, a few bead headed nymphs and scuds, have been ignored by the packs of wandering Redhorses I’ve found. I do not know if it I the particular patterns or set up- but so far it’s been no dice.
What’s your advice? Choice of pattern, method to rig, and technique to fish? Let me know in the comments below. To the first person who’s tips and techniques work I will, in trade, offer 5 self tied Texas River Bum Flying Cats.
Thanks.
See you on the high ground,
AirborneAngler
Gasper
Here is a sketch of a fresh water drum I fished out of the Colorado River a few weeks back. It turned out to be too small for the Texas Hill Country Mixed Bag tourney- but this little drum inspired enough motivation to pick up pencil and paper for a little FishArt.
And without the filter.
As soon as I can hit the Colorado River again I’ll be fly fishing for more drum. Hopefully to pick up some points if not just more FishArt inspiration. Stand fast and be ready!
See you on the high ground,
AirborneAngler
D-Day plus 107 (D+107)
Well it’s about time isn’t it? No I was not lost out on patrol- but I was on patrol fly fishing the heck out of my float tube. Only until yesterday- I had nothing to report.
I’ve been out handfuls of times since the last Texas Hill Country Mixed-Bag battle tracking update flutter kicking my float tube up and down the river. In short I will cover the near-misses.
There was a 10″ fresh water drum I was excited about on the Colorado River I caught a few weeks back.
The excitement was short lived when I checked to see that 14″ was the minimum. But the biggest near miss was my cell phone; a $500.00 fail. Out on the Guadalupe River just above Canyon Lake I met up with an old Airborne buddy to chase- well anything with fins. That excitement was also short lived when I dropped my Otterbox encased phone into 11′ of water. Repeated dives did not even recover the body. Although we grabbed randomly and several rocks near the same shape and size.
Lastly, I’d show you a picture of a near miss trout, but the Guadalupe hasn’t been kind to me and I don’t have one of those either. 3 skunk attempts tells me she does not like me. So why, with all this failure am I posting you ask?
Because I win.
I mean that I’ve won a moral victory anyway- the contest isn’t over yet but I’m riding high back in second! Judges will likely have to confirm that it is Guadalupe Bass, but man was this one a beaut. Dave and I spent 13 hours on the water and this unconfirmed Guadalupe Bass was caught roughly within the first half hour. That’s all the points the Guad would cough up for me that day. But even if it gets reassigned to a smallie- it’s only worth more points.
Winning.
See you on the high ground,
AirborneAngler
***Update*** As it turns out my Guadie is in fact judged to be a Smallmouth Bass. ***That is all***
Deadman’s Cast with dieFische
Fly troopers on your feet! Let me direct your attention to Eric Feldkamp, aka diefische, comrade and participant in this edition of Deadman’s Cast. While maybe not his style- I like to think of dieFische as the Fonz of fly fishing. Just that cool. Ayyy. So let’s get started.
AirborneAngler (AA): I hope you don’t mind me pairing you with Fonzie of Happy Days (reference for any whippersnappers following along). Is there another/different TV persona you see yourself better compared to?
Eric Feldkamp (EF): I guess I would have to say that I always felt like a cross between Chris and Fleischman off of Northern Exposure. One part of me is an artistic, adventurous spirit looking for the meaning of the universe while wrapped in my own ego and the other half is a practical, self stressed worrier that seems to find fault in everything. It makes for a rather manic life.
AA: On your website dieFische.org you explain one, not only how to pronounce dee-fish-uhh, but also how it means all the fish. Where did you get your passion for all the fish and be honest- which fish is your favorite?
EF: I’ve been lucky enough to live in a lot of places in my 40 years on this giant spinning orb. Some places have been amazingly blessed with nature and adventure, and others…not so much. When I moved to Austin a while back, I quickly realized that one thing that set it apart from many towns is it’s amazing abundance of creeks and rivers. They are clean enough you can actually step in them without exposing yourself to immediate medical danger. Once the joy of the water was there it didn’t take long to notice the fish and the excuses they provided to get wet, cool off, and get a little leisurely exercise.
After I started fishing religiously, I couldn’t believe how in the course of a conversation people would always ask if there was REALLY fishing around Austin. The fact that there was so much of it EVERYWHERE around here, and that people who loved to fish, but only thought they could do it on the coast or in Colorado were clueless to the treasures in places as close as Barton Springs. THAT was why I started “die Fische” and the passion to experience every option around here.
As far as fish go, I really have a special spot in my heart for the natives. When I pull a Guadalupe out of the water and see those diamond markings, it just feels right. The Rio Grandes (while technically not native around here) have always been special to me as well, when you pull them close they look like glowing star charts with deep hidden meanings. Plus, the sections of river you find them both on can hold their own against any of the big “Fly Fishing Waters”.
AA: While taking a photo of Rio Grande a glaring beam of light bounces off the water blinding you momentarily- but enough to throw you off your balance. In your disarray you slip. Choose your most likely fate:
a) you knock your noggin’ into an eternal deep sleep
b) you fight your way to your feet only to be choked out by tangled fly line
c) choke on a minnow you near swallow submerged
d) or other?
EF: D: Two Gar grab my pant legs, one on each side. They drag me down into the deep pocket of water I’ve fished 100 times. It always looked like it was ten, maybe twelve feet deep, but they take me much deeper than that. Suddenly Rio’s start swirling around my head like phosphorescent ravers on an Ectasy binge. Shortly thereafter I find myself face to face with the King of the Deep, the mighty Channel Cat, he speaks in a heavy, deep voice that sounds like a strange combination of James Earl Jones and Louis Armstrong, suffice to say it’s deep, much like the water that is seeping in every pore. The words are non-descript but comforting and full of love. The lack of oxygen and the relaxed state I’m drifting into take hold, and before slipping away into the darkness, I confess my unbridaled love for my wife, and my son before being entertained for eternity in the after life by the Dance of the Lizard King.
AA: Wow, that is quite a vivid response. Add one more detail for us- which body of water do you meet your demise on?
EF: Pedernales. EVERY time I fish there alone I feel a strange death and rebirth, so dying there wouldn’t really be much of a shock.
AA: Ok, I can understand that. So then, name two rivers- one is heaven, the other is hell.
EF: Heaven? Barton Creek. Every time I go there (when there is water) it blows my mind that this oasis is right here in the epicenter of this crazy urban forest.
Hell? Any major river that has been written off as a sewer pipe for progress. The one that immediately comes to mind is Missouri River in Omaha, Nebraska. In all the years i lived there i would stare at that river and feel some magnetic pull that i was never able to realize because of the immense lack of respect it saw. Floating cow corpses were not uncommon to see washing downstream in the endless stream of muck. It wasn’t until i lived in Oregon, Colorado and Austin later in life that i saw clear water and realized what power flowing water has over me.
AA: Please elaborate.
EF: Pollution, arrogance and greed have ruined many a things, but waterways are the most obvious. Just glance at these waters and you can feel it. Killing an environment for short term gains is in my mind the true definition of hell (or evil for that matter).
The flip side of the coin is Barton Creek. It means so much to so many people that it remains clean and healthy in spite of the development around it. Many people I talk to say that when Barton Creek goes to crap from development, that is the day they will sign the death warrant for Austin. I happen to agree, it helps keep so many people (including me) centered that it truly deserves the amazing reputation it has developed. It’s freakin unreal, i just wish the party goers passing through town would realize that and give it the respect it deserves before they kill it (or at least access to it).
AA: When you pass your readers ban together for a dieFische monument. What is your crowning achievement they recognize and where do they place it?
EF: I don’t want to sound like a Oprah Winfrey Do Gooder, but if anything, I want to be remembered for getting people to wake up and realize that the dream is all around them. If you believe everything you see in fly fishing videos, websites, and magazines, then it’s all about the biggest fish and the most remote, exotic locations. It sells reels, rods, and plane trips with guides, but it also stokes the fire that seems to be raging across this country, the dissatisfaction with what you DO have and the hopes to achieve what you DON’T. Die Fische is a movement more than anything else, one of embracing what you have and enjoying it to the max. So you have an Eagle Claw 2WT rod and are catching 6” Bluegill? Do you have the capacity to enjoy that and make the most of it? If so, the joy you feel suddenly equates to that of a dude on a flats boat with a 10WT catching tarpon. It’s all about perspective and appreciation, unfortunately that doesn’t sell DVD’s or magazines so it’s not what you read or hear about.
Don’t get me wrong, I love going to Colorado to visit for family and fish for trout on Eleven Mile or the Dream Stream, but when I’m here at home I don’t pine after those waters, I head to Barton Creek and immerse myself in everything it has too offer.
It can be magical here, and I just want people to see (and experience) that. Those that get it, get it. Those that don’t? I just feel sad for them.
It’s all around you people.
AA: I hear you. I’ve stopped trying to explain at the office that the 10″ Rio I got over the weekend really is a helluva catch. Although I will admit I will never look at another Rio in the same way again. (Normally, I just sing the song in my head when one is on line, “Her name is Rio and she”- never mind). In closing I’ve prepare the following award for you… “Attention to orders! The Department of Fly Anglers hereby presents dieFische of the Texas Hill Country Regiment the Humanitarian Angling Award for his dedication to Barton Creek and all Texas Hill Country Rivers. Your steadfast devotion is inspirational and the epitome of the heart of true fly angler. Your actions bring great credit upon yourself, the Texas Hill Country, and Fly Anglers World Wide. Signed this 5th day of July 2012.”
There you have it folks- the man, the myth, the legend dieFische.
See you on the high ground,
AirborneAngler
The AirborneAngler 