Thankful for…

In fitting with the spirit of the day, i would like to give thanks and say…

“I’m thankful for having an inquisitive, creative son and a wife that understands how much fishing really means to me.”

While my wife and her visiting sister took it easy inside this morning, my five-year old son Paolo and i headed out to the trailer, temporarily set up as my “den”, to spend some time pursuing our own creative endeavors. He had planned on working on some drawings and i was hoping to tie some flies. It was already shaping up to be a nice morning of Papa and son activity. Once out there though, he apparently had a change of plans as he asked,

“Can i learn how to tie flies with you?”.

If you have any sort of heart at all, you can imagine how mine swelled with pride at these completely unexpected words.

Slightly teary eyed (i blame it on the humidity), i proceeded to show him how to tie what is really a Zebra Midge with red thread, or as i call it “The Matador”. I explained step by step what needed to be done and then seated a fresh hook in the vise for him. He had promised he would pay attention and be a good student, which he was, but he proceeded to blow my mind by tying a pretty decent “Matador” on his very first attempt at ever tying anything. Yeah the ribbing is off, there is some thread hanging off the rear, but this was his FIRST FLY! ON A SIZE 20 HOOK! My first fly, a Wooly Bugger, didn’t even look like a fly, more like something a cat barfed up after one to many lint ball buffets, and here was my son tying something that actually looked quite a bit like what it was supposed to.

I’m thankful for a host of things, but today i was just thankful to have that moment where a father and his son connect. Thank you Paolo.

-Papa

Barton Creek is Full of Skunks!

Man, it felt good to be wading some crystal clear water today. I left work a little early and headed down to Barton Creek and spent about an hour checking it out. I spotted one Largemouth around 16 inches which i unfortunately scared away with my heavy footsteps on the bank. Other than that i saw a few Sunfish in the 6- 8 inch range. I really don’t have anything to report other than this..

Spend every minute you can in the water…you’ll be a better flyfisher / person for it.

River Guide

Living in an area of the country where water levels can vary so drastically from week to week used to make for a lot of frustration. Driving for a couple hours and hiking a mile or so just to find a trickle of water was a waste of a day off. So stumbling on the USGS water flow site felt like i won the Superbowl, WAY less wasted hours.

A few months back i “drank the punch” and got an iphone, my main reasoning being that it could help me discover and mark new areas. It’s done a fair job of that, but in retrospect investing in some Topo maps and a pencil might have been a better idea. The second reason i bit the bullet was so that i could check water levels on the road. Unfortunately if you have ever tried to use the USGS site on a smart phone (or whatever these phones are called) you understand why my iphone almost ended up in the flooding flows of the Guadalupe.

Enter “River Guide” for the iphone, an application that as near as i can tell compiles all the numbers from the USGS and translates them into a graphic based application that tells you more than the original source. Instead of just telling you current levels and flows it gives you a visual indicator (arrow) as to whether or not the water is on its way up, down, or holding steady. With the new version you actually get maps that will show you where the monitoring station is located.

Now instead of feeling like a schmuck for shelling out an extra $20 a month i can actually justify the expense. With the price of gas being what it is and the fact that i no longer drive from dry bed to dry bed, i think i’m probably at least breaking even.

Texas Trout

I can’t believe it’s here already. Another year has gone by, Christmas is around the corner, and stocking has already begun on the Guadalupe. I didn’t think i was excited to fish for trout this year, but as soon as i realized there were trout an hour away, flows were good, it was nice outside AND i had the day off, i was speeding to the river practically giddy with excitement. So giddy in fact, that i managed to forget socks and one of my boots…not both mind you, just one. Thank goodness i always have the Chacos (sandals) in the car, they were WAY to tight, and awkward as hell to wade with, but it didn’t matter, i was going to be on the water soaking the day in.

The first couple of hours were fruitless, mostly me getting used to swinging an entire nymph rig with my 3WT. I did pretty well getting used to the awkward casting until “WHAMO”, first wind knot of the season. About 10 minutes and an ungodly number of curse words later, i heard some heckling and looked up to realize that i had an audience. Judge and Jacob from Gruene Outfitters were getting a kick out of watching me try to solve the wind knot puzzle. I normally enjoy fishing because of the solitude it brings, but both Judge and Jacob are such nice guys that i actually was happy to see them on the water. Judge was giving Jacob some pointers on nymphing and was kind enough to share a lot of tips with me as well, going so far as to put me in the right spot and point out exactly where to toss my fly. I’d been out there for three hours without catching anything, after just a few casts with Judge’s help,  i had a fish on my line. The indicator dunked ever so briefly beneath the surface, the line went taught, and the Rainbow leapt from the water…MY GOD, LOOK AT THE SIZE OF!….

*SNAP*

And like that it was gone.

Bummed but not beaten, i went back out with the adrenaline still coursing through my veins. A few casts later and i had my first Rainbow of the year, somewhere in the 14-16″ range. It was such a rush that my hands shook nervously with excitement, the fish saw his chance, made a break for it, and was back in the river before any celebratory picture could be taken, camera shy i guess. Minutes later i caught the one seen in the above photo, and a soon after, another. It was awesome. I can’t even remember the last time i caught three fish in one day (not including Sunfish). It’s also been a while since i’ve been on the water, had other people around, and actually enjoyed it. Thanks guys.

A Massive Bridge and The Fish That Live Below.

At the suggestion of a reader i spent a few hours exploring some areas of east Austin the other day. The focus of my exploration was Onion Creek between McKinney State Park and it’s confluence with the Colorado. There’s not a lot out there unfortunately. A lot of low water crossings bounded by closed roads, junkyards and landfills, a few eerie run down trailers bordering what will soon be subdivisions, and lastly, a beautiful park…WHAT?!

Strange as it may seem, Richard Moya Park lies right on the east side of the Austin Airport. The park is bordered on the south and east side by Onion Creek which was flowing at around 10 CFS when i was there. There are some nice deep pools (i’m guessing 4-6 feet deep) with nice riffles linking them together. Although i saw a couple Guadalupe Bass in the 12-16″ range i couldn’t seem to entice them with any thing i had. Judging from the foot paths wandering along the banks and the endless stream of discarded live bait containers, i’m guessing that catch and release isn’t practiced heavily here, so the bass are rightfully cautious.

Although the bass were leery, there were many longear that were more than willing to take a popper. Unfortunately many of these fish were so small (5-7 inches) it was hard to get the crushed barbed poppers free without damaging the fish. Two or three poppers were lost as i cut the lines and apologized for leaving these fish with temporary impediments. It got to be so dam annoying and depressing that eventually i decided to give it a rest for the day as i’m not in the habit of wasting flies or possibly killing a fish by manhandling it to death.

The park is home to a giant bridge that used to span the Colorado River in downtown Austin. Judging by the size it must have stemmed from bank to bank back in the days before Town Lake was damed up as much as it is now.The bridge is big though, doubly so because it spans a creek that on this day was only 10 feet wide down below the bridge. The bridge seemed sort of sad and forlorned, created to bring North and South Austin together, and now resigned to a park that almost nobody has heard of.

It did seem to enjoy the fact though that it due to their size, it could shade and protect so many tiny fish. And honestly, once i put down the rod and paid attention, i could tell they enjoyed the bridge too.

If I Would Have Known it Was That Kind of Party…

Man. It’s getting to feel like Henry’s Fork around here. Yesterday i spent the whole day wandering around Pedernales State Park, over the course of the day i ran into three fly fishers, that’s right, THREE! I think i might have previously seen three fly fishers total in the fifty or so times i’ve been there. Good thing there’s five miles of river so we weren’t fishing elbow to elbow. So many people it almost felt like a Party.

I headed out to the river with some crayfish patterns, in my “Little Green Book” (pictured below), hoping (again) to catch my first Carp. I’m not sure what i’m doing wrong but i can spot and cast to them over and over and i just can’t seem to get them interested.

After a couple hundred casts i watched my crayfish sink into the abyss once more when suddenly, there was a tug on my line as if the earth itself was trying to inhale my line. My line zipped to my left, out of the current and then just as quickly shot back to my right as my reel hummed. Sweet Mary…a monster fish! I was starting to doubt whether or not the 4WT could pull this monster carp out of the current when suddenly the leviathan leapt into from water to air…and i noticed the massive stache.

CRAP…NOT CARP!

The channel cat put up a huge fight, he zigged, i zagged. He leapt, i bowed. And then he was in the net, all 20+ inches of him. As i stood there staring, all i could think was “Fu-Manchu”.  The mustache always reminds me of the wise master from any number of Kung Fu movies.

Oh, ye Zen fish of oriental descent, speak your wise words.

“Pssst…grasshopper…the secret of the universe is that you return me to my dark, inky depth.”

“Yes, sensei.”

The only fish i had all day, all though i saw schools of Carp all over the place. They seemed preoccupied though, uninterested in anything that i tried to share with them. Most likely they were to busy discussing the ideals behind their Little Red Books.

"Little Green Book"

Family…

Thank you David and Chloe for the reminder, and Emily for the great photo.

Photo taken from Fishkamp.com.

Straw Hat and Son Go Fishing

Normally Sunday is “Family Fun Day” around our house, but my wife has been kind enough to volunteer time at our sons school, so it was Paolo and i alone today. When i asked what he wanted to do together i received an enthusiastic, “Let’s go fishing!” Couldn’t be a prouder Papa.

So we set off towards Bastrop State Park for two reasons,  the first being that i thought fishing a pond might be a nice change from all my recent exploits on creeks and rivers, and two, they have a SWEET playground there that is one of Paolos’ favorites.

After a couple hours of orienteering (my game) and some sort of “Star Wars Pictionary”  (Paolo’s game) we headed for the pond that wasn’t much more than a swollen puddle when i had seen it last. Pulling into the parking lot i was elated to see that the pond/lake had risen a good 4-5 feet since early in the summer. Even though it was drizzling, Bass boils could be seen sporadically in the weedbeds.

Unfortunately by the time i got Paolo and i strung up, the slight drizzle we had experienced for the last few hours had turned into a full on down pour. We made the best of it by setting up camp in the back of the Element snacking and swapping stories.

The best part of being driven to relax in the back of the car was when Paolo pointed out what a scientist would describe as “The light refracting off wave undulations caused by the raindrops colliding with the lakes surface.”  Paolo however saw it the way a five year old sees things and instead it was “A bunch of fish bathed in light swimming and dancing  around just under the surface of the water, or possibly thousands of Polar bears ice skating around on the lake.”

That’s my little artist.

We’re Only Happy…

A little something fun done with a photo of my father and a Brown that he caught on the Green River in Utah.

Original photo most likely taken by CJ.

Really Universe? You Have to be Kidding.

So i spent the whole day hiking Guadalupe State Park yesterday. I only caught one fish, a Guadalupe Bass that was so small he couldn’t have been more than six inches. I felt so bad about snagging him that i gave plenty of slack so he could throw the hook, which is exactly what happened. After being skunked the day before at Pedernales i was surprised to find that i didn’t really care, don’t get me wrong…i love catching fish, but on days like these simply being alone on the outdoors is its own reward.

So i realized it was getting late quick and that i should be heading home. But somehow in my Zen state (without any food in my stomach due to leaving it on the living room floor) i tapped into the fact that i should check out the Other parking lot incase anything was going on there. I can’t imagine what the inner me really thought would be there, but as i pulled up i saw a huge truck festooned in “Yolo Board” branding. As any regular reader will know, i’ve been chomping at the bit to get a “Yolo Yak” to fish from on all the rivers around here. So imagine pulling up in a parking lot with one car to find it bearing the object of your desire strapped to the top of a truck.

Had this happened a few years ago i would have been jumping out of my skull analyzing the probabilities, anymore i’ve just come to realize that’s the way the universe works so i really wasn’t shocked that this i ran into this single man, sponsored by a small company, dealing in something so foreign to most, with the object of my desire strapped to his truck. It all seemed inevitable.

Anyway it was Dave Meadows whose life i had stumbled into. He’s currently touring the US while writing a blog about it and was nice enough to grab the Yolo Yak off his truck and help me down to the river with it. Folks…this is the future of floating rivers and catching fish, seriously. Being high above the water you’re able to see fish you would never spot from a sit on top. Plus the simple act of basically walking on water is a hard thing to explain in words. Cruising under Cypress and over whitewater from the perspective afforded was nothing short of spectacular.

Thank you Dave for making an already chance encounter that much more special by taking time out of your day to let me check it out.

High and Dry

It’s hard to believe that all of the ground i hiked yesterday at Pedernales State Park was under water just a couple weeks ago. The rains back then registered at over 20,000 CFS. An amazing number when you consider that 50-100 is the average flow, but even more eye popping when you walk down the banks now, look up and see an uprooted tree perched 50 feet up in another tree.

The conditions were a little weird with water clarity only being about twelve inches. I know that there a lot of fish in there but i just couldn’t seem to spot any, i’m guessing they’re hunkered down on the bottom waiting for the “Four Fishmen of the Apocalypse” to come swimming in, drought and parasites in tow.

I’m not sure what the deal is, but i feel like i’m loosing any skills that i might have acquired over the last few years of fly-fishing, what with the continual skunked days and all. I mean i guess it is possible that the fish are a little nervous after spending months in drought conditions, only to have them be replaced by flooding flows. It just seems so weird to blame a fish that is living completely in the moment, while my mind and cast might be distracted by a thousand things such as, how am i going to get out of debt, should i go back to school, and why the hell aren’t the fish biting?

The highlight of the day was seeing the colors that the cooler weather is bringing out. The Bald Cypress are turning rust red, the flowers are blooming like wild fire and the vegetation is doing everything it can to harness the recent surplus of water before the freezing temperatures set in.

I really only saw a couple fish at all during a whole day of fishing, and these were Carp feeding off the surface, so if you’re willing to risk possible disappointment be my guest, just bring lots of dries.

Oh yeah, when you start getting frustrated from the lack of bites on your fly, just look up…look around…suck it in, and smile. It worked for me.

The Mighty Barton Creek

I’ve spent a lot of time in and around the flowing waters of Barton Creek. And by “a lot” I mean less than some, but more than most.  I’ve been with it through bad times, where the disappearing water left little more than rings to show it had once been there.  I’ve also seen it during good times, like now, when the waters’ flow swaggers through the hills as if it has always been more than a creek, maybe even a mighty River.

During all these years my favorite area has been around the Hill of Life.  A hill that along with the limestone cliffs, frames this area of the “River”.  During a recent fly-fishing/hike it was this vibrant and magical area that was my focus.

I had hiked from Lost Creek down past the Hill of Life, fishing as I went, disappointed with every casts in my ability to find and arouse any fish into striking.  The high waters caused all aspects of the “River” to be unfamiliar.  Banks I normally cast from had disappeared under a steady flow of liquid Gin.  Rocks that I normally waded out to throw line from were so far under water that the only way to spot them was by looking for the whitewater they were stirring up on the surface.  That combined with the excessive growth of plant life brought on by recent rains made for a strange “lost/deja vu” feeling that nagged at me throughout the day.

The Bluegill that saved my sanity.

After hours of wandering around, looking for fish, it was a small Bluegill that came to rescue me from my recent streak of fishless days.  It’s still amazing to me that after all these years, given the right amount of disappointment, something so small can bring you back to why you took up  fishing in the first place.

After the Bluegill I promised the “River” that one more fish would be sufficient to soothe my anxiety about “loosing” my fishing abilities. One Red Breast later I was loading up my pack and breaking my four piece down into two sections to facilitate its transportation through the forest, while simultaneously keeping it ready for any sudden fish sightings.

On and on, two miles back through Cypress and Cedar, along a limestone cropping that was still damp from rain,  making every step something that was closely calculated. After fording the river close to the car, with the sun dropping behind the bluffs, and exhausted from the evening of hiking, i look down to see (or not see) the tip section of my rod is not in my hands.

…DAMN…

According to the Virginia Creeper, it's Fall.

After about 30 seconds of weighing my options i found myself slogging back across the river to look for the proverbial “needle in a haystack”, the needle being the tip of my 3WT, and the haystack being two miles of trails blanketed in thick foliage. After making  it all the way to the turn around point and heading back for one last sweep on the way to the car, i found myself talking to the “River”.

At first it was just me expressing my hope at finding my tip. But as I hit the “intense” part of the trail again, where you climb up and down along the bluffs, the sky turned into overcast grayness with shards of intense light highlighting different features all around.  As i progressed without any sight of my rod tip, my interaction with the “River” became much more intimate.  I found myself  conversing out loud, with the “River” as if it were a friend that I was only now catching up with, despite years of occasional fleeting interaction.

NOTE: I just now typed up an entire two paragraphs of what happened next, but realized that it was such a special experience that it probably should be kept inside and brought forth around a campfire, instead of…say, a blog.  Suffice to say:

1. No mind altering substances were involved.
2. I am not what you would call “spiritual”
3. I had one of the most “spiritual” experiences I’ve ever had.
4. I found my rod tip.

Thats right.  After hiking for miles I was ready to cross the “River”, be done with the whole thing and head home. Standing there on the bank, I asked the “River” one last time if was willing to help bring me back to my rod tip.  I was calm, I was serene, I glanced down…

and there…

it…

was.

Miles of vegetation, water and overgrowth, and I found a sixteen inch long, 1/8th of an inch thick piece of dark green carbon fiber.

Thank you Barton River,

Le Russo

Proposition #9

Last night my wife and i had a great time at Scholz’ here in Austin, Texas. We enjoyed free barbecue and the film “The Present” by one of my favorite filmmakers, Thomas Campbell.  The event was put on by the Central Texas chapter of the Surfrider Foundation to raise awareness about Proposition #9, something that i hadn’t even heard of before attending this event.  Apparently on November 9th Texans will have the opportunity to make public access to Texas’s beaches part of the Texas constitution.

“The passage of Proposition 9 has the potential to set a precedent for the protection of public beach access and that every coastal state in the United States can strive to draft and implement.” - Surfline.com

Anyone that’s ever enjoyed surfing, fishing or simply strolling along the Texas coast should be aware that they have the chance to preserve that pleasure for themselves and others.  With the rest of Texas being one massive swath of private property it’s really the only place left where one can wander.

So…GET OUT AND VOTE “YES” ON PROPOSITION #9 ON NOV. 3RD!

Screening "The Present", courtesy of the Surfrider Foundation.

Be Careful What You Wish For!

Okay, enough already. It’s getting to be so a fly-fisher can’t go anywhere but the San Marcos, and not even there if he doesn’t have a car.

Having just one car this week meant that “Family Fun Day” (aka Sunday) was my first chance to get further than a bike ride away from the homestead.  After taking a family vote we all ended up piling in the Element and headed out for the mighty Pedernales River to hike, explore, and possibly fish.  The water flow there had been dropping for days, so i hoped against hope that i’d be able to spot a few fish. No such luck. There is just too much water all over Central Texas right now (what a difference six months can make).  None the less, it was nice to cast some line and try some of my newly invented flies, if for no other reason than to see if they floated.

I have off on Thursday, i should have a car again, and i’m hoping (for the first time in a long time) that it doesn’t rain much between now and then. But just to cover my bases i’ll be heading to the San Marcos. I promise not to do any more dances or say any more prayers under my breath wishing for rain…at least for a while.

Pedernales Falls at 100 CFS.

Good Luck Fish!

Man…there is a lot of water around us right now.  To bad it doesn’t stick around longer.

This morning i checked the USGS graph, saw that Barton Creek had a healthy flow of 50 CFS, and decided to spend an evening trying to redeem myself after getting skunked last time i was there.  After biking an hour, in the wind, i showed up at one of the access points to Barton Creek only to find a locked gate, and a sign informing me that the trails were closed.  GREAT.

So on i biked to the Lost Creek entrance knowing i could get in there and fish. However, when i showed up this was the sight that drained every ounce of fisherman out of me (above photo).  One thousand cubic feet of water per second flowing through my fishes’s home.  Quite considerable when you observe that the average is 2-4 CFS.  When i got back home i found this graph.  Bad timing, good thing the photo was taken from a hammock with me perched inside reading some fly fishing literature.  I hope the fish were as relaxed as i was.