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
Mother’s Day Misfire
Today’s installment of the Everyday in May challenge: Mother’s Day Misfire at Mansfield Dam.
Apologies first for this not being a touching Mother’s Day post. Did you check the name of the blog though? Mother’s day operations having been completed (like a good son) I found myself with half a day out on the water.
The night before I received the recommendation to hit Mansfield Dam at the top end of Lake Austin. For reference for those unfamiliar with Texas Hill Country lakes- we don’t have any. We take rivers, dam them on both ends and call it a lake. Lake Austin then is really just the Colorado River boxed in between two dams. (That’s dam being said 5 times so far those counting.)
What did not come with the recommendation to hit the dam was intel on the condition of the water. With recent rain all our rivers were pretty much blown out so I was looking for somewhere new. When I hit the water boy was it cold! I felt like an ice cube in my float tube. Additionally, there was a lot of weedy-algae-spounge-like under growth everywhere. When I made my first gripe report back to my “source”, he informed me he had never been there before and to nut up.
So I did. I bounced around in tube but with not much to show. With the weeds below my Flying Cat arsenal was out of the fight. A chartreuse popper had no effects but a cypret minnow finally got the skunk avoiding ping. Hey fingerling bass count but the Redear made me feel better.
With morale low I bumped down to Bull Creek at the lower end of the lake. So far the dam was a misfire, but that wasn’t the biggest one to come. Long story short I lost a decent sized bass. Still not the misfire… wait for it. I lose plenty of fish; bad hook sets, spitting the hook, I mean it happens. Never before have I lost the hook in a fight. That’s the first half of this misfire. The second half is when I saw the same bass cruise by later. How did I know it was him? Because he was holding my Flying Cat like a Joe Camel in his mouth. True story! Misfire!
The water was clear enough for me to see it plainly and painfully. Which, by the way, makes it a good hook set. There was no immediate action drill I could do to recover from this. I wanted to take a picture- but as good as the iPhone camera is (near all my blog photos are take with my iPhone), it just wouldn’t have happened. So in reflex and in vain I sight cast to him. Yeah, I think he was done for the day. And so was I. Keep marching to the sounds of the guns!
See you on the high ground,
AirborneAngler
Today’s topic of Mother’s Day Misfire is a modified prompt of the Everyday in May challenge. For more info click here. For all AirborneAngler Everyday in May posts click here.
More than Fish to Hand
Originally posted at TexasRiverBum.com on 15 August 2011.
0315 – This is going to be rough.
I hate mornings because I am such a slow starter. But my brain slowly goes to recovery mode and recalls the plan to meet my new found friend Dave at his house by o’dark-thirty, (that’s Army translation for anything before sun-up) and in this case is 4:30 in the a.m.
What was I thinking when I signed up for this?
Oh yeah, he is going to teach me fly fishing and apparently fishing universally means the early the better. Well, anything worth doing usually comes at a cost like this so I’ve eagerly agreed to the price of admission.
Dave for some reason has taken up teaching this infantry grunt out of some unknown and unearned kindness. For this I am grateful. I jotted down the mental note of the angler I want to be and assume the debt of “pay it forward”, by the example set before me. There is more than fish in this river today.
We’re heading to the Colorado River to a spot Dave did a recon on the week before. It’s above Lake Travis where the recent dry spell – going on for some time now, has areas of the man-made lake back to its river roots. The water level is nearing 30′ lower than average so our trip has a rediscovery allure to it.
We rig up in the dark. The morning air is already humid and I cannot wait to be waist deep in the cool water. Before I step off the bank I’ve already been taught a new knot and handed newly minted flies. They’re like gold nuggets in my hand, their mettle soon to be tested in battle.
Freshwater Drum (click to enlarge)
My first fish is a drum. He’s a little guy and after a quick photo he’s set free. Either he didn’t learn his lesson, likes me a whole heck of a lot, or has a twin – but my second fish to hand bears a striking resemblance to the first. I’m slowly becoming addicted and am dying to catch a bass. Too many images of the fishing channel trophy bass on cable television flicker in my head. Here fishy, fishy, fishy. Here fishy, fishy, fishy. I’m suddenly 7 years old again and nothing is cooler on earth.
Dave has caught a few small bass and lost a large one before he catches the bass of the day. He does this effortlessly. Literally – he didn’t even try. Frustrated about losing the big bass, he targets gar and eventually lands one on his ultralight outfit after a good fight. I didn’t know gar could dance or that their leaps could span the water’s surface by 20′. Dave coins the term ‘Rocket Fish’ and for me, thus shall gar ever be G.A.R. – Guided Aquatic Rockets.
As he wrangles the 30″ FUGLY-flopping fish into his 24″ net, he patiently wades and closer to the bank so I can close in for the picture-op. He’s removed the hook and flung it to the side. Well, at some point a nosey Largemouth Bass has inquired on the ruckus and found a quick meal; Dave’s hook.
Seriously?
I’m false casting my arm to the point of falling off and still bass-less and with a flick of the fly he finds one. Lesson learned: Murphy’s Law of Texas Fly Casting number 9, don’t care, don’t target- just fish. So, gar fish half in hand – half in net, Dave uses the “3 Stooges” technique to pull in fishy number two of a one cast series.
Longnose Gar and Largemouth Bass (click to enlarge)
Mid-day and we are out of time, the demands of the real world beckon us, so with me still bass-less we have to retreat from these waters. Today was but a small skirmish, to prepare me for the more serious fly fishing engagements I’ll soon face. For me though, I’ve caught more than fish to hand. I’ve caught a fever; hot air, cool water, and I’ve become consumed with casting flies on the water.
Remember your first fish when you caught the fever?
Now days later, every nearby stream beckons me. The current calls to me in the ripples of every brook. The craving for the simple serenity of fly casting soothes my soul when in the water – ironically, the hook is set.
More than fish has come to hand.
See you on the high ground,
AirborneAngler
The AirborneAngler 