D-Day plus 42 (D+42)
Day 42 into the Texas Hill Country Mixed Bag (THCMB) contest and a catfish has me a bit shell shocked. Sometimes even when you win a fight it can leave you a bit what-the-hell-just-happened dazed. Today was no exception.
I started out at a not-so top secret location. While I have been made privy to the location (plus or minus a mile in accordance with THCMB rules) anyone looking at the required fish submission info will learn its locatin. Plus, once you name a place a ‘secret location’- it never is again; thanks Dave! But the contest really is about learning/sharing new locations so mission accomplished;you’re welcome Brandon!
Anyways, I had my usual line up of flies to assault. For the naysayers I did say flies, ie plural. But yes, the flying cat was the first thing I tied on. I would admit it would feel like cheating if the flying cat wasn’t tied by me- but I tie my own now. So, for anyone who wants to pick on me for always using it as my go-to fly, all I can say is check the leader board. And if Jimmy cracks corn and nobody cares- why are we still talking at it?
But again, I digress. The chaos part came into this when I cast near a really tree-root-saturated area. Right next to the bank I landed it really good. I let the fly sink as per Standard Operating Procedure and then twitch… twitch… BANG!
This fish and I did a waltz in the pool. I think it charged me in my float tube once just to spite me. But that wasn’t the slap in the face. Remember the rooty bank? Well, a waltz wasn’t the only dance on this cat’s punch card. He let me know this by using every limb as a may pole.
At one point I found myself using a flipper to foot-lift a root just to untangle all the line he drug out. Yet at another I thought I lost him because tension gave on the line. Slamming back taunt- my fears were put aside as more tangled line became undone. How I landed him I still don’t know- because here is the real shocker…
He was foul hooked in the face! Doesn’t matter it still counts!
It was by far the most all around awkward catch I’ve had to date. And for only fly fishing for a year that doesn’t say much, but it was still weird. In the end I won and got my photo op- even though I’m still slightly dizzy.
At the time of fish submission this ups me to second place and only 5 points off the leader! Go me!
See you on the high ground,
AirborneAngler
Today’s topic of D-Day plus 42 (D+42) is a deviation of the Everyday in May challenge. For more info click here. For all AirborneAngler Everyday in May posts click here.
D-Day plus 26 (D+26)
Conservation shift fire! Shift fire! We’re shifting fire again from today’s Everyday in May topic prompt- standby for a Texas Hill Country Mixed Bag tourney battle tracking update.
Confirm or Deny was the name of the game today.
The weather forecast was 40% chance of rain.
-Deny. There was no chance of rain. It was guaranteed at 100%.
I was skunked on the Guadalupe River hunting trout, yet again.
-Confirm. No comment.
Shifting to the Blanco is a good plan b to avoid the skunk.
-Confirm. This worked a second time. Even in crummy conditions I still hooked up with good size fish. This river is quickly becoming my favorite. When you know what you know- it’s a good feeling. Confidence is always a game changer.
70 plus degree weather in Texas isn’t cold enough to make your hands go numb.
-Deny. I knew it was time to go and was keenly aware of hypothermia settling in when I started insistently laughing at the fact that fishing today was probably a dumb idea. Not ideal conditions to say the least.
You can troll flying cats and hook up with good sized fish.
-Confirm. This was the only method that caught me fish today. With a drop from recent temperatures, a rise in the water table from decent amounts of rain, and a dropping barometer meant the fishing techniques/tactics had to be switched up. I had no idea how to mitigate these conditions but I was determined.
At first I was trying to hit the banks to no avail. Then something odd thing happened. While transitioning from one spot to the next in my float tube I didn’t bother to strip in my line. Feeling lazy I threw a good cast out and let it drag as I flutter kicked away. But, that’s not what was odd. In route I felt a tug.
Its a good idea to get into a float tube the day after an Army Physical Fitness Test. You won’t be sore form head to toe from the day before.
-Deny. Everything hurt! The APFT isn’t that grueling- but when you give your best, as any good trooper will, you’re going to feel it the next day.
Crying in not authorized.
-Confirm. I’ll stop whining now.
After toolboxing around on the Blanco I hit my favorite pool. Tired of working the banks with no luck I decided to try trolling again. This worked! I lined up with the center of the river, cast out and kicked away. Repeatedly, I got hits on my fly. The best catch that up’ed my point standing was the Red Breast sunfish shown above.
Getting skunked on the Guad twice in a row indicated a big fail!
-Deny! I worked hard both times after having my fly reel handed back to me by the Guad. I am not done yet and will come back until I get it right. What it did do for me was make me push hard to figure something out- on both days in very different conditions. It made me exercise what I know and learn to rely on it. It was all about knowing what you know, and knowing what you don’t know. It was all about playing confirm or deny.
I can catch fish. I can win this contest.
-Confirm. I can. Win or lose I’ll do my best and I’m having fun doing it. What games do you play on the water? How do you push yourself when fishing?
Today’s topic of D-Day plus 26 (D+26) is a deviation of the Everyday in May challenge. For more info click here. For all AirborneAngler Everyday in May posts click here.
D-Day plus 20 (D+20)
Murphy’s Law of Combat states, no initial plan survives initial contact intact. This is a true statement. The night before my intent was to hit the Guadalupe River early and hunt some late season Rainbow Trout. Texas spring in the Hill Country feels a lot like summer for most and anything after sun up is pushing it for trout. Unfortunately intent is not defined as action. Having completely overslept the morning in I was finally boots on ground at the Guad about 3 hours late. Fail. I say again, massive fail, over. The view was nice but the water was ugly and cold. I couldn’t keep the algea bottom growth of my fies to save my life. It was floating everywhere. After about four hours of misfires and no fish to show- it was time to shift fire.
Like a wise little grunt I’ve bookmarked every place my Battle-Buddy Dave (aka Fish Drill Instructor) has taken me. I’ve got the intel plugged in and save on my iPhone. I needed to make a quick move and fast before the BOB (big orange ball) dipped over the horizon and I was running blackout (no light) ops. So off to the Blanco I went.
Transitioning over was easy. A quick leader and tippet swap/re-rig drill and I was ready. Right off the bat I had a hunk of a Rio in hand- sort of… I held the line not the fish. This guy was 9″ and took new new arsenal of self tied Flying Cats (as did all the others) I reloaded on the other day. He also had some funky blistering going on. It was nasty- Medic!!!!!
Following in trail was a green sunfish. It bears to note this guy did not want his picture taken and fought it well. I won.
Next to hand was my war face painted warmouth brother. Pretty fish. I have not seen a lot of these fellas before but I have been running into them a lot lately. This was the first one to hand to meet the contest minimum and came in at 8.5″.
Bringing up the rear was a 15.5″ largemouth bass. He wouldn’t sit still either but it always makes my day when I get a decent bass. This was a nice final touch to add points to the board. All in all it was the best thing to get skunked on the Guad that day. Sometimes you have to just know when to shift fire.
See you on the high ground,
AirborneAngler
PS
I wanted to mention the yellow lab that sat in overwatch nearby whom I suspect is part German. He didn’t have any Shepard markings but his half hour psy-op (deterring psychological operations) barking rant screamed to me in accent “Alarm! Alarm! Alarm!”. Like Samuel L. Jackson said in Pulp Fiction dog- “Be cool honey bunny, be cool.”
-AA
Mr. Whiskers
Look, I know my artistic abilities are limited- but I appreciate that some people can’t draw a straight line. Stick figures can be challenging. I’m not one to judge. While I am no Picasso, I like how my iPad or iPhone can add that little extra touch to my fly fishing passions. Because my fly fishing passions can definitely use some kind of mystical/magical help. And don’t let any paratrooper out there lie to you. The Airborne is superstitious, and yes, they believe in magic. Lucky boots, lucky parachute…. whatever.
This was my first catfish caught on a fly. Because a flip-flappy bluegill at a young age gave me a bad fish handling PTSD experience, (thank you Mom for unhooking all my fish the rest of that day) I was glad my lucky friend Dave was there for the step-by-step pointers to avoid the cat’s pointers. I’ve since recovered and learned fish handling judo. Mr. Whiskers portrayed here is in a three fingered fin bar.
The Blanco River where this picture was taken has been on my mind as of late and has been good to me. It’s riffles, runs, and deep pools hold deep magic.
(Insert Bullwinkle voiceover) Hey Rocky, watch me pull a rabbitcatfish outta my hat!
(Insert Rocky voiceover) Not again!
Oh yes, again. Magic. Tah-duh!
See you on the high ground,
AirborneAngler
Humping the ‘yak
Originally posted at TexasRiverBum.com on 14 September 2011.
Foreword, a note from the author: First, the term ‘humping’ in the infantry world simply means to haul, carry, backpack, or even drag a piece of equipment across God’s green earth. This is typically executed uphill in both directions. With this being made clear I also need to add that this written recollection is no tail of grandeur. Not for the glorious experienced fisher anyway. No, this is rather a personal tale of a successful expedition with a new battle buddy on the water. It’s about finding a new challenge and learning. This is my Blanco Basic Training. It all starts with humping the ‘yak.
Dave, my new battle buddy/fly fishing drill instructor, is once again the man with the plan. Unfortunately, I am still not accustomed to the ultra-early mornings he plans (when the French and Indians attack) but I still understand their necessity. My face is mashed against the steering wheel as I wait for him at our link-up site. Drooling over the horn I think-half-dream of the fish I want to catch. Then, with a flash of light the beast catches my cloudy eyes. As I focus a yellow kayak approaches. It’s Dave. Yay Dave!
Load Transfer (click to enlarge)
He has his daughter in tow, Jazmin, or Jaz as Dave calls her. She is riding shotgun and I wave hello as they park next to me. My eyes are half blinded from the yellow ‘yak on the roof of his jeep. We need to down load and transfer the gear because the logistics of finding a place to dump in the river and finding a place to pull out dictates it so. Introductions are made, gear is swapped, and we are off to the Blanco— Wimberley bound.
The First ‘yak Drag (click to enlarge)
Fast forward now and we are at the throw in point. There is always a sense of anxiousness when on the line of departure. There is a sense of knowing the adventure ahead of you from where you are about to step off holds limitless opportunities. The first opportunity I get to snag anything presents itself in the form of the kayak’s bow drag handle, not a fish. We have to drag the boat to the first pool. The day is young and I am fresh so this was totally non-issue. Stepping in water I get chills, in the literal sense! This is a sensation lost six months back when the current Texas heat wave crept in and remains in force still.
Cool clear water—ah!
Practice Pool (click to enlarge)
The ‘yak is humped over to the first pool; this is where I get to play target practice and zero in my cast. Dave had me tie on a Tussle Spider and aim for the opposite bank. Zeroing in takes some time but I am getting there. Then—zip! Snap! Bullets? No, the green flash past me is no tracer. It’s my neon green Tussle Spider and I’ve zipped it past me so fast with just the right snap of the wrist too far to the rear that the snap-pop report I hear follow is the fly tapping the water and snapping off. Grumble, mumble, explicit beep— wait I didn’t lose it! I found it in the brush behind. This little booger is going to be lucky. I can tell.
Now, many reading this have fished before. If not all readers, anyone reading this only cares about the de-brief highlights and any pictures attached. So, I’ll get straight to the highlight reel. The trip went like this: drag the ‘yak, a baby green pig, two cats, drag the ‘yak, another baby pig but this one is flying, then more dragging the ’yak. All this sprinkled liberally with Rio’s and Redbreasts. Do I have your attention yet? Read on and remember this is a rated G story.
First Big pool (click to enlarge)
Slipping into the first big pool of the day, Jazmin right off the bat gets this ginormous Largemouth Bass on line. By Dave’s best guesstimation it beats out her best bass of 19” by at least four inches as it stands on its tail and shakes its gaping maw. All I see is a big green baby pig trying to jump its fat butt out of the water. We have no pics and can neither confirm nor deny the validity of this report. We do however reserve the right to make counter accusations. If scouts honor doesn’t work for you to take our word and you don’t like it—well, whatever. If you do like it—well, whatever anyways. It set the mood for the hunt. We were hungry for the fight.
Did you catch the part where we had to drag the kayak? Look, I’ll stop complaining about it here. (Lie.) It wasn’t that bad. (Lie.) No seriously, I don’t want to complain too bad about it because Dave was playing fish guide and I was really appreciating it. (True.) In fact, it was the kind of guide people pay for. (True again.) But, I in no way envied Jaz as she lightly trotted past drought stricken areas with her lightweight float tube on her back where we had to lift the ‘yak out and carry it. (LIE!)
Kayaks are good and we like; tubes are better. Write that down.
Now here is where unfortunately salt goes in the wound. Insert tab A salt into slot B wound. Jaz lost another giant later down the river, this time a Smallmouth Bass that spent more time in the air than in the water. Dave and Jazmin both: grumble, mumble, explicit beep. Dave crying for the missed picture op, Jaz for the fish.
Channel Catfish (click to enlarge)
We fished all day! It was awesome. I learned (sort-of) how to cast Dave’s weighted Flying Ghost Cat. Caught me a catfish on it—filthy cannibal! And I almost snagged my face in a bad cast. Even more important though was learning how to grab hold of a catfish so they don’t bayonet your hand with their poison pikes. I’m not going to lie; I get squeamish on grabbing fish to de-hook. I know Dave had to be thinking “sissy.” But I got stabbed as a kid by a floppy bluegill and developed Fishy-PTSD since. Don’t laugh! Its reel! So my mom always had to unhook them for me after. Well, momma wasn’t around today and I wasn’t about to ask Dave. So, continue mission and forget I said it. Forget I said it.
Rio Grande Cichlid (click to enlarge)
- Largemouth Bass (click to enlarge)
I did pick up a few Rio’s and they are fun to catch! When Dave lands one you can be sure to hear him cheer them on fast five times, “Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight!” They are tough little guys for their size and are just plain fun. Likewise, the Redbreast Sunfish are equally exciting targets of opportunity. “Fight, fight, fight, fight, fight!”
Redbreast Sunfish (click to enlarge)
The day was great. We caught fish, dragged a kayak, and I learned to set a hook. Note to self, it’s ok if I occasionally launch a fish out of the water in the name of setting hooks. I got lucky several times that none of my fishy’s jumped hook and broke contact. I don’t know how many times I was late to reflex and set but I now know its better late than never. Final learning points: Pecan trees are nice and shakable if you land a fly in them. Cypress trees are not so forgiving. Write that down. So when you cast make sure you have a good battle sight zero and aim small, miss small. The Blanco is a great place to learn and The Green Mile delivers a great mix of chance contact encounters with fish to hand. Get outside and go find some water.
Until then, I’ll see you on the high ground – Airborne Angler
The AirborneAngler 