Fly Fishing

A Mayfly, Up Close and Personal

I took a bunch of pictures yesterday and, as usual, found myself wondering what I would ever do with them. Thanks to Rebecca and her photo prompt at the Outdoor Blogger Network, I have an excuse to post a couple.

Transparent Mayfly

I still haven’t figured out how to tie a transparent mayfly imitation but I am pretty sure a lot of the rises I saw last evening were to these guys (and gals). Of course, I only say that because I couldn’t see a darn thing on or in the water, even though I was surrounded by rises.

I did get some enthusiastic refusals of a #18 sulfur spinner, though. It is August, the time of long leaders and tiny flies.

Tight lines, y’all.

 

 

Categories: Fly Fishing, Vermont | Tags: , , , , , , | 6 Comments

A Toast to the Unknown Guide

My old friend, Dr. Marcus Feely, recently spent four days here at Fish in a Barrel Pond. He will be back in August, with his wife and family, and again in September, with some lucky young receptionist from his office. Last week, however, he was here by himself.

I hate to say it, but when he is alone he gets lonely and if I stopped to chat every time he wanted to talk I would never get anything done.

I don’t exactly hide, but I can be difficult to find and I don’t exactly skulk, but when Doc Feely is here I do tend to skirt the edges a bit more than usual. My stealthiness is tested during his visits, especially when he stays in the Cahill camp, which I must pass on my way to inspect our overflow spillway. I got out there just fine on Tuesday, crawling on my belly beneath the kitchen window while Doc sat on the front porch, listening to the Red Sox game, but coming back, as I drew near I heard ice in a glass and froze.

Doc Feely was making a drink in the kitchen and I had to think fast. I could stay right where I was and wait, sauntering past after he toddled back out to the porch or I could find an alternate route and be on my merry way. Instead, I panicked when I heard the kitchen screen door squeak open and slap shut, followed by the approaching tinkle of ice in a drink.

I don’t remember the lie I must have told when Doc Feely asked what I was doing 35 feet up a pine tree, but I remember a few of the lies I tried when he insisted I come sit on the porch with him. They weren’t very good ones and I finally climbed down, figuring that if I was going to spend the next part of the afternoon listening to Doc prattle on I might as well do it on the porch with a drink in my hand instead of halfway up a pine, getting covered with sap. Continue reading

Categories: +The Neverwas Nonesuch Angling Society, Fly Fishing, Humor | Tags: , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Vermont Hand Crafted Tenkara Flies

My friend Eugene and his pal Purly decided last fall to see if they couldn’t make a couple of bucks taking advantage of the angling craze that is Tenkara, so I helped them introduce their own line of Hand Crafted Vermont Artisinal Tenkara Rods. We even went so far as to introduce a whole new system of angling, based on the art of “barking” squirrels, employing the principles of “concussive shock” to virtually guarantee fish (and lots of ’em!) nearly every time.

Initial responses were encouraging but it soon became apparent that the ranks of Tenkara practitioners had been infiltrated by one of the baser elements of society; a group that can take any activity, try to make it their own, and suck the fun for everyone right out of it. That’s right, I am referring to the purists. Continue reading

Categories: Fly Fishing, Humor | Tags: , , , , , , , | 18 Comments

Diary of a Trout Bum

JUNE XX, 20XX

4:07 a.m.: Fell asleep last night dreaming of fishing for trout. Every cast on the mark, every retrieve bringing another fish to net. Adoring throngs lined the shore, waving handkerchiefs and shouting, “Huzzah, Quill Gordon, huzzah! Working where others come to play, huzzah! Such fine fly fishing always so close at hand and fishing privileges to boot! Huzzah, Quill Gordon, Huzzah!”

My casts shot out true — back-hand, under-hand and behind my back — and each one hooked a trout. As I motored past the main dock (where twenty beautiful women wearing bikinis and waders went positively bonkers over my patented dipsy-doodle, backwards-between-the-legs triple haul) the cheers changed to whistles and I began to wake up.

The whistles in my dream were in reality the songs of birds, serenading the arrival of first light. Very few people get to experience a real dawn chorus of songbirds any more. Thrushes and warblers, finches and wrens, robins, cat birds, chats, flickers, phoebes and sparrows joining together with dozens and dozens of their neighbors to sing in the morning with what most people interpret as melodious joy. In reality, the songs of birds are more likely to be challenges and threats — territorial exclamations tossed into the dawn — and, when taken that way, it is more an early morning cacophony than lovely dawn chorus.

Stupid noisy birds. Continue reading

Categories: +The Neverwas Nonesuch Angling Society, Fly Fishing, Humor | Tags: , , , , | 10 Comments

Of Mayflies and Trout

It’s not often I am the only person on the pond.

When someone complains about the fishing and I say, “You should have been here on Tuesday!” they think I’m kidding or don’t believe me. Hatches of mayflies can come off as a mere trickle of bugs being chased by a couple of trout or the water can erupt with fish as a blizzard of faeries fills the air. Then, as if someone flipped a switch, the hatch will end and an angler passing by five minutes later won’t know it even happened.

This evening, I was right on time. Continue reading

Categories: Fly Fishing, nature | Tags: , , , , | 11 Comments

Pictures from a Fishing Camp

Other than the obvious absence of anglers, yours truly in particular, what is wrong with this picture? A quiet, gray, drizzly day, emerging insects and rising trout going about their business as they always have and (hopefully) always will; nothing at all wrong with that.

The third weekend of the season is here and laughter spills from the camps at night, mingling with the calls of the loons cutting through the thick evening air. Mornings, brimming with promise and the golden light of dawn are quiet and it truly is possible to find solitude without loneliness.

Time alone on the water, contemplating the ways of belly buttons and trout, is precious but so is time with friends old and new. From far and away or from just down the road they gather and a rainy afternoon becomes occasion for a feast.

Spring has returned and if I pretend the blackflies don’t bother me as they swarm my eyes, crawl up my nose and chew my scalp along the hairline, it’s kind of nice around here.

 

A man recently approached me, saying he had bad news. When I asked what the bad news was he said, “Geese. But wait, it gets worse! They’ve got babies!”

He told me I’d better do something right quick before they got out of hand and ruined the place, like they had at the country club where he plays golf, and he didn’t seem too happy when I told him I didn’t think there were enough geese around to get all bent out of shape about. I assured him I would keep an eye on them and act accordingly, which I will, but it wasn’t that long ago I watched as one pair took turns on the nest through a three-day snow storm.

  

That snow seems a distant memory now but this pair of geese made it through and the babies that man was worried about have made their first trek from the swamp to the open lake. I will never understand how someone can go on and on about “getting away from it all” and then get upset when they see wildlife.

People like that man are fortunately few and far between. Most folks are just happy to be here, at a place where rising trout nip at the heels of emerging mayflies drifting like faeries into the dusky eve; a place where loons still sound their ancient call and the night sounds are frogs, not sirens; a place where one can feel a part of something larger than themselves, dwarfed beneath a massive, starry sky; a place where lessons are learned through stillness, absorbed instead of forced.

Such places are not necessarily so far away.

Go.

Categories: +The Neverwas Nonesuch Angling Society, Fly Fishing, nature | Tags: , , , , , | 3 Comments

Flashback Whatever-the-heck-day-it-is Because I Just Don’t Know Any More

I took a road trip to Maine last spring and found this old calendar page in an antiques store near Sebago Lake.

It’s from a Currier & Ives lithograph and it shows that kids with sticks have been out-fishing men with rods for ages. Two guys in close quarters, fishing tandem flies, is a recipe for disaster even without the added pressure of being out-fished by some punk using a tree branch, and the bad day these guys are having is being made worse by the mangy cur gobbling down their catch. Hooked in the ear or in the ass, it is hard to not laugh at anglers such as these. Continue reading

Categories: Flashback Fridays, Fly Fishing, Humor | Tags: , , , , , | 2 Comments

Flashback Friday: Opening Day!

Opening Day 1947

Opening Day 2011 dawned a tad bit cool and more than just a little breezy, and the members and guests of the Neverwas Nonesuch Angling Society reacted accordingly. Some searched out sheltered spots to cast while others trolled streamers, slapping their way through the chop on the upwind leg of their circuit. By breakfast, most had touched enough trout to have no problem not going back out but a few anglers, suffering from the delusion that nothing matters but numbers, couldn’t be bothered to come in even for coffee.  Continue reading

Categories: +The Neverwas Nonesuch Angling Society, Flashback Fridays, Fly Fishing, Humor | Tags: , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

The Clock is Ticking …

It is hard to think about fishing right now, when this is the best spring has come up with so far:

On the other hand, it is hard not to, with Opening Day here at Fish in a Barrel Pond a mere three and a half weeks away. I don’t know how you prepare for Opening Day in your neck of the woods, but I’m willing to bet I prepare a little differently than you do.

Today, for example, I counted spatulas and ordered 90 rolls of toilet paper.

It’s almost time to start digging out the roads, just as I do every year but, when it comes to the ice on the lake, there’s not much I can do but have faith it will go away on its own, just as it does every year, sometimes with only hours to spare.

Oh, look! A crack!

In the weeks to come, readers of this blog can look forward to more exciting preparation rituals like distributing itchy wool blankets, hitting up the linen service for cold sheets and starchy pillow cases, along with the unveiling of the new brooms (complete with instructions!). Water will flow through pipes and down drains, septic system pumps will be tested (graphic photos!), worn gasketing on wood stoves will be replaced, chimneys will be cleaned and critters will be rousted from their winter homes. There will be setbacks and surprises along the way, I’m sure (there always are) but, come the last Saturday in April, the ice will be off and fish will be on as the members of the Neverwas Nonesuch Angling Society hit the water for the start of the 2011 season at Fish in a Barrel Pond.

Some anglers count themselves fortunate to have one Opening Day excursion to prepare for; Quill Gordon gets to prepare for dozens at once.

Categories: +The Neverwas Nonesuch Angling Society, Fly Fishing, nature | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

Owl Jones Flies (But Don’t His Arms Get Tired?)

Fame can be a dangerous thing. Just look at all the people out there who are only famous for being famous and the train-wrecks their lives can become. It can also be dangerous for us, the spectators, as our desire for famous people is filled by the likes of Justin Bieber and that Lady Gaga fellow. The internet was abuzz last week when Justin Bieber got a haircut. Big deal. He’s what, 12? When Quill Gordon gets a haircut, that will be news. 

But I digress.

Owl Jones recently opened the internet portal to his empire at OwlJones.com. I worry about him, hoping he can handle the fame and adulation, and I hesitate to stroke his already massive ego by writing nice things about him. To keep my pistol-packing pal from Georgia on the straight and narrow, I will not discuss his singing, dancing or film-making abilities. I will leave his regal bearing, trend-setting style and natural good looks out of this discussion, but he does have deceptively dainty fingers.

Midge flies from Owl Jones

Owl ties flies. Some of his creations are displayed and available for sale at his appropriately named page “Owl Jones Flies”. Once you have entered the OwlJones.com portal, there is a tab at the top of the page labeled Blue Ridge Fly Patterns to take you there, too.

I ordered the zebra midges above, and a dozen of his “EZ SK8R Caddis” before the grand unveiling of the new Owl Jones headquarters. In fact, it turns out I ordered these flies during the time he was working out his nefarious plan to dominate the internet through his new web site and, even with everything else on his plate, he tied these flies and got them to me promptly and safely with no fuss at all. That is more than can be said for some bigger, better known sources.

EZ SK8R Caddis from Owl Jones

The caddis are tied so the hook point is on top and doesn’t drag when the fly is “skated” across the water. The hackle is plentiful and stiff so I expect these flies to ride high and skate well. Owl ties them for rough water and some people might think them inappropriate for still water, with all that hackle. Normally, I would agree that flies for lakes and ponds should be tied sparsely, especially those that are fished “dead drift”, allowing the trout a good long look, but to immitate caddis or midges streaking across the surface, that thick hackle will keep these flies up on their tippy-toes where they belong. (An aside: Owl Jones claims his caddis are “bullet proof” but I have yet to hit one. The real test, I suppose, will be the teeth of trout because I am out of patience for standing in the snow, trying to hit a #18 fly from fifty yards out.) 

I have found Owl Jones to be an honest and generous person and his flies are as intricate and well-tied as any I have seen. They will have a spot in my fly box and you should save room in yours for some, too. It will be two months before I can give these southern-tied stream flies a workout on this little New England pond but I have no doubt they will catch fish.

Direct your browser over to OwlJones.com and order some flies! Tell him Quill sent you.

Now Accepting Sponsorships

  

(Owl also sent me a couple of nifty Blue Ridge Trout Bum stickers to dress up my Shappell Jet Sled. I would like to offer this same unsurpassed sponsorship opportunity to my other readers. If you, your business or your organization would like a spot on my sled, drop me a line using the “Contact Quill” tab at the top of this page and we can work out the arrangements. The cost to you? Not a darn thing [other than the cost of a sticker and postage]. Your message is guaranteed to be seen by various woodland creatures and at least a dozen readers of this blog.)

Categories: Fly Fishing, Product and Gear Reviews | Tags: , , , , | 3 Comments

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