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March 30, 2006

The Itinerant Angler Podcast Season One, Episode Four

Temple Fork Outfitters is the pre-eminent Far East manufacturer of fly rods, proving that rods can come from abroad and compete one to one with domestic sticks.

The Itinerant Angler Podcast

Episode Four: Temple Fork Outfitters On the Move with Rick Pope

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This week I interview TFO President and founder Rick Pope on foreign manufacturing of fly rods, his experiences with Lefty Kreh and other fly fishing celebrity consultants, and the technology in the pipeline for future TFO products. He also sets me straight about a few misconceptions that may open your eyes on the flyfishing industry.

Special thanks to Old Crow Medicine Show for their permission to use "Gospel Plow" in The Itinerant Angler Podcast. For more excellent modern bluegrass music, visit www.crowmedicine.com.

March 14, 2006

Article: Into a Far, Strange Country


The Great Falls of the Yellowstone and a Madison River brown.
IT ISN'T OFTEN IN LIFE one finds oneself unencumbered enough to agree to a two-week road trip. I know that. Soon enough children, full time jobs, and advancing age will limit my ability and willingness to be on the road for that length of time. For many of the same reasons that have caused me to study casting so intensely as a young man, I decided now was a good time to seize some experiences before those experiences pass me by. When my editor called and offered an assignment that would take me and Lauren, as my tandem photographer, into the West, I jumped at the chance.

Travelogues can be a surprisingly difficult thing to write. No one wants to read the nitty-gritty details of each stop along the road, but when you are in a far strange country for the first time, you want to do justice to the things locals may take for granted. For instance, I got a kick out of all the 'World's Biggest' displays, like the World's Biggest Pink Concrete Prairie Dog, outside Badlands National Park.

Keeping that in mind, I will try to lead you through the wonder I felt at the West's immensity and laid-back atmosphere without boring you with the details of crappy hotels (Dayton, Wyoming), bad food (Dillon, Montana), or broken-down vehicles (Shoshone National Forest, Wyoming) that mark and mar so many trips. Those things happened, but the grandeur of the West made them irrelevant. This was the most exhausting and grueling trip I have ever taken - psychologically hard, and hard on the pocketbook in the sense of being much more expensive than I anticipated - but none of that mattered. I was going West, farther out and for longer than ever before.



The world's largest concrete pink prairie dog


We began our journey in Knoxville, Tennessee, with a wearing sixteen and a half hour day ending in the corn fields of central Iowa. An audiobook of Patrick O'Brian's excellent Master and Commander helped us pass the time, but the really interesting stuff didn't happen until our second day on the road. Rising at dawn, we set out across the South Dakota plains. There seemed to be a surprising number of motorcycles around...

After a few hours and our first encounter with ethanol-laced gasoline, we made a brief stopover in Badlands National Park. The Badlands were formed when sedimentary deposits proved harder than the ground around them, which washed away. Dinosaur skeletons are relatively common and paleontologists journey from around the world to search here. Without judging or glamorizing in any way, it is a historical fact that the Badlands were dangerous territory for whites crossing the plains in the latter part of the 19th century, when the Sioux had been thoroughly aroused by white depredation. You can see how the territory would make an easy spot for ambush.

Thumbing their noses at the arid environment, the locals have made creative use of irrigation and much of the world's supply of hay now comes from these parts. In a bad year, South Dakotan hay might be shipped as far as Kentucky. Then of course there is the ubiquity of Wall Drug. Wall Drug has signs everywhere! You may even have seen ads for Wall Drug, in Wall, South Dakota (named for the sudden cliff face rising out of the prairie on which the town was founded, no doubt) in the background of pictures taken in Vietnam. Wall Drug boasts the widest dispersion of billboards for any mom-and-pop shop on the planet.


The South Dakotan dawn



The hayfields were a break in the monotony of the modern high plains corn industry



Only sunflowers interspersed the corn for much of the heartland.


I, however, resisted the strong urge to take pictures of any of these signs, seeing none that I could really call clever. The Badlands, however stark, are a welcome relief after that much prairie, and I highly recommend the detour off the interstate. The local highway will loop you through the Park, and you won't lose much time. There is a $10 entry fee per vehicle and the crowds might become heavy in July, but by August, the Park was worth the detour.

Almost immediately after leaving the Badlands, the bikers became thick as locusts. At our next stop for gas the answer to this anomaly presented itself: we were just in time for the infamous Sturgis Motorcycle Rally. Bikers were everywhere in this tiny town, just a blip on the interstate close to the old city of Deadwood, South Dakota. The local culture hasn't changed much, apparently, and most officially-sponsored Sturgis memorabilia proudly pointed out the similarities between the riders of yore and the riders of today.


The Badlands border some very good hay country indeed.

Hunter Thompson was once nearly beaten to death at a motorcycle rally (I believe the one that would become Sturgis), and he had to finish his Hell's Angels from a hospital bed. We were luckier, and although we were treated to a few sites that made me glad there were no children along, the day passed uneventfully. Near Sheridan, Wyoming, we began to pick up herds of pronghorn antelope, which are remarkably abundant.

After overnighting in an air conditioner-less cabin in Dayton, Wyoming (my first encounter with a hotel in which air conditioning was not absolutely required to prevent the certain death of patrons), we headed out over the Bighorn National Forest at dawn - a remarkable place if ever there was one.

The Bighorn National Forest is an abrupt range spiking at 10,000 feet where Wyoming in its wisdom allows cattle ranchers to free range their stock. Consequently one must be careful when driving - especially careful in the false light of dawn when so many animals move about.

The difference between the Bighorn National Forest and Yellowstone is Bighorn's wild nature - the animals here are less accustomed to human presence and indeed may be hunted from time to time, but nonetheless the area teems with wildlife. I count sightings in territory such as this as far more worthy than in Yellowstone or the Smokies - indeed, in Yellowstone, I refused to photograph two majestic elk due to the ring of people snapshooting in a circle all around.


A typical Sturgis attendee


The Bighorns rise over central Wyoming like a set of hands breaking the surface of water - jagged and sharp, they provide beautiful views and an abundance of wildlife. Everything in the area is wild, and we saw herds of elk, whitetailed and mule deer, moose, and antelope.

After a layover in the Shoshone National Forest to remove a wheel and check a grinding noise (we had worn out our brake pads descending the Bighorns and later had to get them changed in Gardiner, Montana), we entered Yellowstone. The pictures here must speak for themselves - for the greater part I lack the words. We camped two nights, once near the Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone and once in Mammoth Hot Springs Campground.


Moose, though not abundant, were nonetheless present in the Bighorns and quite unmoved by our presence.

I caught my first wild cutthroat trout in the Yellowstone River itself. Temperatures were in the 30s at night and I was glad of my 20 degree sleeping bag. After a hot day hopper fishing for h4 brookies in the myriad highland prairie streams, we bedded down for the night within spitting distance of the 45th Parallel and Montana. Wolves came and circled around our tent, sending up howls to chill the blood. Mother nature provided hailstorms and rain and a glorious sunset. On the whole, it was the most dramatic night out of doors I have ever spent.

Yellowstone is a magnificent place. Nowhere else have I fished next to wolves, waited out a hailstorm in the midst of a bison stampede, beheld a volcanic lake hundreds of feet deep, or caught large, native, wild trout. I will always value my time there among the most moving travel experiences I have enjoyed. The Parks Service is to be given credit, great credit, for its great wisdom in reworking the management strategy to favor natural competition of natural species. They have taken innumerable criticisms for the reintroduction of wolves, the return of wild hunting techniques in bears, but they have done the nation a great service.


Yellowstone River cutthroat release


Lauren in camp near the Montana border



Gardiner, Montana



Bison caught in a hailstorm



Yellowstone spring creek brookie



Mammoth Hot Springs



The Great Falls of the Yellowstone



Sunset after a sudden storm in Mammoth Hot Springs

As moved as I was by Yellowstone, I must say that Montana's Ruby Valley, our ultimate destination, was no less magnificent in its own way. Here working ranches take the place of wild prairie, but the trout are big and strong in the Madison, Beaverhead, and Bighole Rivers. Farms and ranches stretch to the foothills of the unmanageable Ruby, Pioneer, and Gravelly ranges. Ranchers in this area preserve a way of life that has its own noble place in history, reaping the benefits of their ancestor's unimaginably hard work in carving out workable solutions to nature's extreme measures. Some areas of this valley, on the Big Hole, see only 4" of rain per year - yet the locals manage to grow healthy herds and hay and even grain on it.

The major rivers of the area, the Ruby, Beaverhead, Big Hole, and, one valley over, the Madison watersheds, are all served by local water associations made up of sportsmen and ranchers alike. Thanks to the intervention and lobbying of these cooperative groups, the trout in these rivers are big and strong and have water to swim in despite Montana's six hard years of drought - all without bankrupting the local economy. However, perhaps sensing that this way of life may, like the Plains Indians cultures before it, give way to rising commercial pressures, some local ranchers have turned to lodge-owning and recreation as a means to keep land in the next generation's hands. We stayed at one such lodge, the Big Hole C 4, where Dave Ashcraft and his wife Cindy were very kind to us despite our irregular status.

The Ruby Valley boasts many interesting landmarks, from Virginia City, once a mining town of 10,000 and more and now in a state of "arrested decay," to the strange polygonal barn a local mining baron built to serve his national champion racinghorses in Montana's harsh winters. The top level kept the horses' water wet through a series of moving drops and falls, constantly circulating, while the center story contained enough hay to last through to spring.

This was Sacagawea's home country, and the area is pervaded with Lewis and Clark landmarks. The Beaverhead Rock, which really does resemble a swimming beaver if viewed from the proper angle (about 10 miles due west, not right in front!) was the first landmark Sacagawea recognized and it came as a godsend for the Corps of Discovery, dragging their dugouts naked through what is today the confluence of the Beaverhead and Big Hole Rivers - a nasty, mosquito infested slough. Those mosquitoes haven't moved, and anglers coming to the area should remember to bring a strong repellent (even 40% DEET didn't have much effect.)


Ruby Valley's famous racinghorse barn

This is also the valley where Twin Bridges, Montana, home of the R.L. Winston Rod Company, is located. Twin Bridges is an attractive little blip of a town, and the citizenry was for the most part friendly. A string of little towns dot the road through the valley, and you never know who you might bump into. In Sheridan, the next blip down, Lauren and I ran into David Letterman in a coffeeshop - he has apparently purchased land at the head of the Ruby Valley (which incidentally we later accidentally fished.)

During our time at the Big Hole C4 Lodge we were treated to days fishing the Madison (known locally as the 20 Mile Riffle, but good fishing), the headwaters of the Ruby, brook trout streams in Beaverhead National Forest, the Big Hole (where we killed a rattlesnake), and the Beaverhead. I fished the Madison the first day without Lauren, which was a shame as it was the best fishing of the trip. Two great browns, about three and a half pounds and two and a quarter, respectively, fell victim to a ridiculous experiment of a stonefly pattern I cooked up on my vise in a fit of creativity long ago.

This stonefly pattern was cooked up back in my days on the Little Red River in Arkansas, when we would get very sporadic hatches of what I thought at the time were Little Yellow Sallies (now, having seen a Yellow Sally, I think they might have been h4 golden stones). Hatch-matching is really far from my forte; most of the waters I have fished are tailwaters and the usual patterns are aquatic crustaceans, like scuds, and sculpins or baitfish. This pattern was a standard Hare's Ear, tied with a turkey-flat wing case, but with the addition of goose biot horns and tails, stone-fly style, the whole tied and segmented with neon green floss, and beadheaded. By all rights it shouldn't have worked but I caught two of the nicest fish of my life on the fly, tandem dropped below a streamer.


A Madison River brown

One of the most interesting things I learned on this assignment was how often Western guides will go to a two or three-fly rig in order to get a better feel for what is working. Most of the time I fished either two streamers (to simulate competition for food sources), a streamer deaddrifted with a nymph behind, or two or three nymphs like ducks in a row. To rig these monstrosities, try this little trick:

Tie your fly on normally. I use a clinch knot. Don't improve the clinch knot - the improved clinch is weaker anyway. You could leave a long tag end and drop from there, but that tends to tangle. Instead, cut a piece of tippet about 24" long and double the last six inches over so you can pinch the tag end between thumb and forefinger along with the running end, making a simple loop. Now roll your fingers together with a tight pressure, and the tippet will spring into a pig's tail. Hook the loop of the pig's tail over the back of your first fly and pinch it there with your other hand. Now carefully unclasp your first thumb and forefinger and grab the tag end before it unravels (it isn't that hard, just don't let go all the way but shift your grip forwards a bit). Run the tag end through the loop over the hook gape, pinch, wet, and tighten, and bingo - 20 second dropper rig, a standard clinch knot over the back of the hook! I am proud to say I came up with this by myself and it worked like a champ.

The other truly interesting discovery I made was how Western guides fish the water. In the East, we become accustomed to fishing tailouts and deep holes at a slow pace, making mend after mend to correct microdrag and hoping the fish will accept our pitiful offerings after long deliberation. Western fish don't have the luxury of as much time as a lowwater tailwater trout. They must make a snap decision. As a result (and possibly partly because of the inexperience of my oarsmen), we sailed right through holding lie after holding lie, making snap casts left and right like six-gun slingers and hoping against hope the trout had time to see the pattern. Lies behind pockets, under cut banks, and in tailouts were all explored and as expected many of them had fish in them.


Western browns are cerulean blue instead of red-toned.

However, where the Western guides began to really differ was in water like the Madison. Rather than casting to slow water on either side of a deep, wave-crested riffle, our guides instructed us to cast directly into the riffle on the principle that fish will hold wherever there is enough water and aerial cover - in this case provided by the broken, choppy ceiling. Sure enough, we caught several fish out of these pockets.

By raft or drift boat, the winds on the Madison can be brutal. Indeed, we had one windless day at the start of the guided fishing, then paid for our luck in blood sacrifice for the rest of the week. Our second day on the Madison, Lauren's first alas, the winds blew so hard we could have scudded under a close-reefed topsail for hundreds of miles. Our inexperienced oarsmen picked up some heavy salting and handled us well and I am very thankful to them - thanks Flint and Dave! I only managed one little brown and a couple whitefish, but that was a victory given the conditions. Lauren had a nice brown on for a moment - long enough to run her well into the back of her line, but the wind was so strong the fish had the advantage of simply holding in place and screaming the reel like a bonefish. It snapped her 4x like midge tippet.

To fight these winds and keep our dead drifted nymph and streamer rigs afloat, I used the balloon indicator method that is currently leaking out of the southern Rockies. Neither of my guides had ever seen children's party balloons used as indicators, but they work like champs - especially in heavy seas and winds. To make a balloon indicator, half-hitch a loop in your line at the desired place. Inflate a child's water balloon only as far as needed to fill it out - don't stretch the latex at all. Tie it off well up the stem to make a h4 indicator, then snip off the valve with scissors to keep it from spinning. Place the knot on the other side of the half hitch loop and wet and cinch down. If you want to move it, simply tease out the half hitch. For a placid tailwater this indicator might be too large - but on a high-flow western river it is perfect.

Our next destinations were the Big Hole and Beaverhead rivers. Although I saw a very fine brown holding in an irrigation channel in the Big Hole, the sight of no less than 4 snakes in 200 yards, including at least one and possible two rattlesnakes (I am informed bull snakes resemble rattlers but I wasn't hanging around to find out), we gave up on the Big Hole.


An Owlsey Slough brown

The Beaverhead wasn't much kinder. The winds were still blowing pretty stiffly by Day 4, but worse than that our cloud cover had evaporated and none of the big fish wanted to move. The Beaverhead resembles an eastern spring creek, meandering at low gradient through tall grass and muck that is excellent habitat for mosquitoes. However, it contains the largest fish on balance in Montana and can be a place for spectacular fishing. The recent drought has hit it hard, however, and although it has plenty of water now, the last few years of poor recruitment means there is a generation gap in the trout that will cause the large fish to vanish for a few years when the current generation dies off.

Fortunately, Dave Ashcraft's Big Hole C 4 Lodge sits smack-dab on Owsley Slough, where I moved but failed to hook the largest fish of the trip. This is a true spring creek and not for the faint of heart. Still, I know of nowhere else where one can jump no less than four fawns in an hour's fishing, sometimes almost beneath your feet. The mosquitoes and muddy, soft banks mean this is a young man's fishery, and it may well have been the most dangerous place I encountered on the trip. I fell in the river more than once as a bank gave way, but I still managed some nice browns.

The browns in Owsley Slough were highly unwilling to come up for hoppers despite their abundance on the banks. Really, although we were in the height of hopper season, we never saw much action on the big patterns throughout the trip. I believe I caught one brown on a hopper and handful of brook trout.

The trick at Owsley was to float dry peacock caddis over the trout, then dunk the fly and strip it back at the end of the drift. Casting was tricky, but the fish were rewarding, with some brought to hand as big as 14 inches and a couple seen or lost as big as 22"!

We concluded our trip at the Big Hole C 4 Lodge, and so I will conclude this rambling account there. We had a great time - truly the trip of my lifetime - and I will spare you the grueling hours on the road (32 of them) to return to Knoxville, Tennessee.

If ever you have the chance, this is one far, strange country, you must visit!

For more information on travel and photography, visit the Bulletin Board.

March 13, 2006

Article: Ten Ways to Improve Your Pictures


THE TRUTH IS, anybody can take excellent fishing photos.

With modern point and shoot technology, such arcane concepts as "reciprocity of exposure" and the algebra behind camera stops have become unnecessary for the taking of good pictures. Most photographers starting out today can afford a point and shoot digital camera. With so many new photographers in the game, displays of pictures and fish are becoming increasingly common. What is not becoming common, however, are good pictures.

Think about it. How many pictures have you seen of fish so washed-out you can't see the scales being held by a guy whose skin tone is "three days dead" for every shot that might have belonged in a magazine? The ratio may be 100 to 1.

The following tips and tricks will help you improve your fishing pictures.


This picture was shamelessly lifted from Angie the Fishin' Goddess' "Darkest Fish Contest." I particularly like the dogs circling for the kill.

Trick #1: A Picture is What You Make of It

Throw out the idea that a picture records reality. It isn't true, and too many photographers object that photo editing "makes it not real." Every time you select a subject, you create an unreality. You point the camera, you define the edges of the box your audience sees. Would you include an ugly automobile in a shot of a pristine mountain valley when you could simply move the camera an inch to the right? No! But the automobile was there. Is the mountain valley any less real? Of course not.

A fishing picture is exactly the same. Just because the light wasn't favorable at the time, or a power line crossed the shot, or an angler's hat shaded her face, that doesn't mean you must portray these things in your picture. Remember that and keep an open mind about your options.


This picture was originally washed out, fuzzy, and too far away.
Trick #2: Fill Flash

Fill flash is the most important trick an outdoor photographer can possess. If your subject is wearing a hat and the sun is directly overhead, how would you want her eyes to appear? Dark and shadowy, or bright and sharp? The only way to get light up under that hat brim is to put it there yourself, and fortunately, that little flash on your camera is just the ticket. Too many snapshooters misuse flash, blowing out subjects at night and relying on available light in the day. Flip this misconception on its head.

For night subjects, use no flash and a tripod and a long exposure, or if you must use flash, select the "Slow" or "Rear Curtain" options on your camera's flash menu. Slow and Rear Curtain flash allow the camera to take in ambient light before flashing the subject, so your target is lit, but the background doesn't look like a cave.

In the daytime, use your flash full out. You won't blow out a subject with bright sunlight about. If you're lucky enough to have one of the new digital SLRs, trust the camera to meter the source and provide the correct amount of flash. Review those pictures! If the shot didn't turn out with a full flash, turn it down, or if you can't, cover part of the flash up with a finger.

In the daytime, nothing makes an animal's eye standout like a little glimmer of reflected light. Can't get a flash bright enough on the scene? Don't be afraid to add that glimmer later. Dodge tools in photo editing programs lighten areas, and I have added the bird's eye's glimmer in the following shot.


I couldn't fill flash this goldfinch due to the distance I had to maintain, so I added a glimmer of light in its eye later.
Trick #3 Tic-Tac-Toe Composition

Composition is a tricky problem all in and of itself. The worst thing a photographer can do is to always center every subject. The ancient Greeks understood that certain shapes are more appealing than others. Audiences haven't changed much since then. One easy rule of thumb is the tic-tac-toe board. Imagine a tic-tac-toe grid across your image. The image is divided in thirds both horizontally and vertically. When shooting animals, its hard to go wrong placing a subject's eye directly on one of the points of intersection. Horizons often look better placed on either the upper or lower divider line. Some cameras even include this grid as a display option.

Don't be afraid to break this rule if the subject interests you, however. A horizon at the bottom of an image can make a breathtaking spectacle, while one right at the top of the frame can draw the eye to a line of mountains, for instance.

Trick #4 Aperture and Shutter Speed

Aperture and Shutter speed are generally over-discussed, but it is interesting how many ordinary snapshooters still don't understand the concept. I am not going to try to do what has already been done better, but suffice it to say that larger apertures (and since aperture is a fraction, f/2 is much larger than f/22), let in more light, and small apertures (again, like f/22) let in less. One effect of this difference lies in depth of field, or the zone at which your image goes foggy. Large apertures, like f/2, leave you with a very shallow depth of field, which is great for zooming in on a subject and leaving the rest of the picture blurry. Small apertures give a much deeper depth of field, meaning everything from the guy with the fish to the mountains miles off his shoulder will be in focus. Play around with these settings and pay attention to what you get.


This snail photo, photographed by Lauren Holt Matthews with a Fuji FinePix40i on Macro setting, is a good example of the power of the point and shoot macro.

Trick #5 Point and Shoots Make Great Macros

Digital point and shoot cameras are often fantastic for macro photography. Technically, "macro" used to mean that a lens was capable of producing a subject, say a mayfly, life-sized on the sheet of film. If you took a picture of a mayfly at macro setting and 1:1 zoom, then held the slide up next to the mayfly, the bug and its picture would be the same size.

Digital point and shoot cameras usually don't come with enough lens to actually make a 1:1 ratio, but it doesn't matter nearly as much, because the lenses on these cameras are so small anyway. My Fuji FinePix 40i has a lens size of 8.3mm, or less than a third the size of your average 35mm lens. Because that lens is so small, even if the camera can only manage a 1:3 physical ratio, where the reproduced image is 1/3rd life-size, the small lens and the small chip that corresponds to it makes the point and shoot a better macro outfit than some professional equipment costing many times more. Plus, those small lenses can focus almost on top of a subject, meaning you can just about count the scales on a mayfly's wings if it will only stand still long enough. Finally, macro-setting defaults to a very large aperture on every camera, so your subject will automatically be one of the only things in focus, making for some very dramatic images.


The increased saturation on this carp photo brought out the natural pinks and golds in the fish's scales. They were always there, but the camera couldn't cut enough glare to make it obvious.
Trick #6 Digital Saturation.

Modern Point and shoot cameras have a tendency to render a subject very washed-out and gray. With film, this would be a problem of underexposure, but with digital cameras, the likely culprit is your white balance. Try manipulating the white balance settings on your camera to create a warmer tone.

However, even with the proper white balance, your camera will sometimes turn out some gray shots. This is because digital cameras are calibrated to average the bright and dark elements of your shot to create a mythical 18% gray curve. What that mumbo-jumbo means is the camera will cost you some color. Don't despair! For film-like effects, especially for film such as the excellent Fuji Velvia Professional slide films, try bringing your pictures into Picasa, the free Google editing program, and increasing saturation. Usually 15-20% will be enough, and don't overdo it or your images may turn out looking like they were taken on Mars.


The blacks in this image may well have been overdone, but it made for a dramatic photo and I frequently get requests for this image.
Trick #7 Darken the Blacks

Many new digital users complain that "digital doesn't look like film." This is true. Digital pictures lack grain, are less contrasty, and may lack sharpness due to lower-quality lenses. These are NOT problems inherent in digital images per se, but rather symptoms of the consumer-oriented design of these cameras. To make your digital images look more film-like and professional, adjust the color balance. In Picasa, you can adjust general balances and sharpness. In better programs like Paint Shop Pro and Photoshop, both of which are available to consumers, you can adjust Selective Color. The most dramatic effect you can get with selective color is to darken your blacks. You will lose a lot of detail in the shadows when you do this, but film usually did this anyway. One of the characteristics of Fuji Velvia is how quickly it drops off to black at the low end of the spectrum. Are these pictures accurate representations of reality? Hell no! But they sure look fine.

Trick # 8 Know When to Sharpen

Knowing when, and when not to, sharpen is probably the most important skill in photo editing. Sharpening ruins detail, significantly degrading the quality of your image. Many times, it isn't even sharpness you want to add, especially not over the whole image. Experiment with brightness and contrast and deepening your blacks or your shadow tones before you sharpen. In fact, make it a cardinal rule to always sharpen last. This will do a lot for your images, because you will apply the other edits with the most available data.


Don't be afraid to bring your fish away from your body entirely. No grip and grin was needed here. Although the fish was on the small side, his expression and beautiful color made him more than worth photographing. Why ruin the picture by sticking yourself in it?

Trick # 9 How to Shoot A Fish

Fish pictures seem to just ruin photographers. You've all seen the classic Grip N Grin, where the fish is held at arms length at the camera and there's no telling how big it really was. The other chief sin is the "lay it next to the rod" shot. Nothing looks deader than a fish laid on the bank next to a rod. Add a bright fill flash and bingo: a dog's dinner.

Fish pictures deserve some special consideration, because fish are 1) a lot smaller than you (unless you're catching marlin, you lucky dog) and 2) shiny. The average American man weighs somewhere between 180 and 200 pounds. A trophy trout might weigh ten, or just five to eight percent of the man. Keep this in mind. Don't be afraid to hold the fish out away from your body if you need a fish shot, but don't stick it right up in the photographer's grill either. But consider this: no matter how good the Grip N Grin, the fish is always going to be smaller and less detailed if a person must also fit into the shot.

Why not try macro shots right up against the fish instead? The chief rule of photographing animals is to always leave their eyes in the picture. Stick to this rule unless photographing tails, which have a certain beauty of their own. Remember too that a fish is a water creature. The best trophy shots are the ones taken underwater, but if you don't have an underwater camera handy, do the next best thing and place the camera at water level, with the fish just under the surface or just out of the water.

Because fish are shiny, you need to be careful with fill flash. The best shots still require it, but turn the fish's body slightly away from the camera so as not to bounce all that flash back. Use a polarizing filter to cut the natural glare of scales (and skin!). Don't be afraid to try crazy angles, like "sighting down the fish" or just the fishy mugshot. Keep the light behind you and pay attention to your aperture: ideally nothing but the fish should be in focus to help add depth and dimension (and to keep from giving the audience an exact idea how small he was!)

Trick # 10 Camera Protection

The last of these tricks is how to protect a camera in a wading environment. The number one rule is never take a risk that isn't worth the result. If the water is falling but you'd rather be across now, consider waiting to give your gear a chance. Stow point and shoot cameras in watertight containers like a Ziploc baggie or a tight neoprene case. Consider investing in a water-resistant model for the vest pocket.

If the worst happens and your camera gets a dunking, DO NOT TURN IT ON. You have a chance to dry your sensitive electronics out so long as you don't fry them. If the camera was off when it went into the drink, immediately remove the batteries. Shake out as much water as possible and place the camera in the sun. Resist the urge to check the camera for two or three days of drying, being careful to place it in the sun or a hot environment. My Fuji has been sunk twice. I dried it out both times and it is still going steady.

SLR cameras are harder to protect. My advice is to wear the camera around your neck, with an arm through the strap so it can slide around to the back. Also, purchase insurance! My camera and fishing gear policy costs me less than $20 a month, and it allows me to rest assured that my gear will always be safe, even if it isn't. Most insurers offer flood, theft, accidental breakage, and loss protection.

I hope you've found these tips helpful and informative. I've enjoyed writing them, and now I just need to make sure I follow my own advice!

For more information on improving your streamside photography, check out the Episode One of The Itinerant Angler Podcast or visit the Bulletin Board.

March 9, 2006

The Itinerant Angler Podcast Season One, Episode Three

Arkansas guide and personality John Wilson strikes a pose.

The Itinerant Angler Podcast

Episode Three: Arkansas' Giant Browns with John Wilson

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The third episode of The Itinerant Angler Podcast features renowned Arkansas guide and big fish fisherman John Wilson, who discusses not only Arkansas' amazing White River system, but also distance casting and the tournament experience, both in the United States and abroad.

Following John's interview, I'll bring you another audiolog, this time from the Bald River Canyon and the Holston River of East Tennessee.

Special thanks to Old Crow Medicine Show for their permission to use "Gospel Plow" in The Itinerant Angler Podcast. For more excellent modern bluegrass music, visit www.crowmedicine.com.

March 5, 2006

Article: Pushing Your Limits: High Water

ONE OF THE MOST COMMON QUESTIONS raised by visitors to the southern tailwaters is "How do I know when to get out of the water?" Anglers from outside the area are often incredulous at a situation locals take for granted: we have no control of the dams.

Hydroelectric dams and the tailwaters they create make for a truly unique fishing environment. High water due to rain and runoff are often not even a factor in consideration of whether to fish. Rivers stay open and cool in the hottest months of the year and comparatively warm in the coldest months. However, tailwater fisheries are the only ones in which anglers have to worry about flood-level flows on bright, shiny days six weeks after the last rain shower. Moreover, these flows can be unpredictable, violent changes in the river's character, and anglers can easily become stranded or worse.

Much as anglers would like to be able to turn the dams on or off according to fishing situations, the truth is, on the majority of tailwaters, river fishermen eat last and get the smallest slice of the pie. Dams are usually managed by either your local power company or some amalgamation of the power industry and a federal regulatory body. The best example of a generous system is the Tennessee Valley Authority. The TVA was set up during the second Roosevelt administration to provide jobs during the Depression, as well as flood control and electricity to one of the last areas to see a light bulb. The TVA is a fairly well-managed, transparent system. TVA posts a generation schedule in advance on its website and for the most part sticks to it. However, most areas are not that lucky.


Notice how the fogbank rolls downriver
with the rising water. This interaction is a telltale sign
the wave is coming.

The classic situation is the one found on the White River system in Arkansas. There, the Army Corps of Engineers manages the Dams according to power generation needs, usually in close consultation with Carroll Electric, or SWEPCO, or some other regional power supplier. In the Arkansas management mentality, power generation is really about lake levels. Little if any attention is paid to the people on the other side of the five major dams in the area. Lake users simply outnumber river users and, in this as in almost all other areas of wildlife management, politics is the order of the day. Lake users prefer high water; power companies prefer to make a profit; and river users with minimum flow or fish kill concerns often have difficulty making themselves heard over the general buzz of influence.

The result of this situation is a potentially treacherous one. Although the cold water drawn from the bottom of the lakes across the South provides a year round fishery and some of the highest growth levels for trout on the planet, anglers can and do drown every year. This article will explain the basics of river wading safety, as well as practical fishing workarounds when the water is high. You've probably already read a number of articles on basic river safety. The truth is, most manufacturers and administrators wage what amounts to an abstinence campaign: if the siren sounds, get out of the water and go home, always wear a life jacket, never wade when the dams are running, etc. Like all abstinence campaigns, this isn't exactly what fishermen want to hear.


Movie: 2.16MB (Click to Stream)
Watch the water creep its way over this shoal
in this movie. Despite the slow pace, this water is rising
almost an inch every minute.

The first and most important factor in wading safety on a tailwater is the ability to recognize when the water is rising. As the video below demonstrates, rising water can be subtle, often even unnoticeable unless you happen to be standing on a dry patch of rocks. Watch closely for changes in the amount of debris coming down river. This is often the first sign of increased flow. In the hotter months, a fogbank rolling your direction is a telltale sign, as is a sudden blast of cold air from upriver. Pay attention to herons and other birds as well; if they begin feeding inexplicably, rising water is often the cause. Because trout also go into a frenzy when flows increase, anglers are frequently caught while being absorbed in their fishing. Take care, and always pick out or place a dry marker just at the water's edge, and remember to check it periodically. River levels can also rise dramatically. Bull Shoals Dam in Arkansas has a whopping 8 units of water, and even on a river with areas 300 yards wide, the water can come up 8-10 feet. Water will rise more rapidly in the center of a channel as the flow "ropes" its way downriver, so be cautious and get an early start if you need to make a crossing. However, if you'd kind of like to stick around and keep fishing, read on.

Here's a secret many anglers don't know: you don't always have to leave the river the minute the horn sounds. A certain amount of flow makes for excellent fishing. Most hydroelectric dam units generate somewhere between 2,000 and 4,000 cubic feet per second (cfs) of water when they are turned fully on. That means a dam with 2 units might be able to push up to around 8,000 cfs in ordinary conditions. (Keep in mind that in flood stages water can be sluiced over the top of the dam as well). However, the generators do not have to come on all the way in order to trigger the warning siren. Moreover, most rivers are safe to wade up to around 1,500 cfs if one is reasonably vigilant and in good health. The one principle to keep in mind is 'know your limits!' Although the only way to learn those limits is to test them, best to do it close to the bank, with a fellow angler watching out, and preferably not wearing waders.


This pontoon boat is an excellent means of beating
the flow - but don't push it too far!
The weir dam in the background could rip the bottom
right out of this craft!

When wading in high water, keep in mind what the fish already know. Structure will provide you with a buffer zone both above and below any significant interruption in the current. Sometimes you can hop scotch behind boulders and make your way a considerable distance quite safely. Be cautious to never go in deeper than your center of gravity, and remember that that center will move closer to your feet as more and more power is added to the flow. Very shallow fast moving sluices or tailouts are often the most dangerous areas for a spill, despite not being deep. Choose slower water where possible, even if it means going in a little further. When in deep but slow water, add inches to your height by moving on tiptoes, and "moonjump" across narrow, deeper passages. Slow, concentrated movements will propel you through water as far as if you were on dry land so long as you don't thrash and swirl about.

Occasionally we all end up in a situation we didn't plan for. If it comes to an extreme measure and you absolutely must get across, try the following: If you have a rain jacket along, put it on. Zip all seams, grommets, and zippers as tight as possible, preferably all the way to your neck. A high-quality fishing jacket, teamed with waders, can make a damn-near impenetrable barrier so long as you aren't submerged too long. If you wear a fishing vest, close all seams tightly and move fly boxes to the highest pockets. Unstring your rod but leave the pieces together - you may need it as a wading staff. Stow your reel if possible. When you get in the water, move slowly but in as close to a straight line as possible. If the current sweeps you along, let it unless it begins to threaten deeper water, and concentrate on moving to the other bank. Use your free arm to breast-stroke your way along, and be prepared to stab your rod downward as a quick brace if you miss a step.

In the worst case scenario, when you've taken a dunking and are floating downstream, roll over so your boots are downriver and you are on your back. Take deep breaths and spread your arms to take advantage of your natural floatation. As soon as you are in shallow enough water, stand up and walk out. It goes without saying that all anglers should wear a wading belt, even if they also wear a hip pack. Flooded, overlarge waders can act as a sea anchor, dragging you down, but only if they are allowed to billow out.


Movie: 1.5MB (Click to Stream)
This weir dam on the Clinch River can
tear the bottom out of an inflatable boat.

Wading safely while still being able to fish is an important skill, particularly in the early spring when the cabin fever is raging but the rivers are all high. If the water is running but you absolutely want to fish, search out a tailwater with a nice backwater slough. Arkansas' Little Red River has just such a place, and even at two units of generation trout may be caught by wading anglers. If you are cautious in your approach, you may get a shot at very outsize trout! The big bruisers take advantage of the high water to cruise new territory for stranded terrestrials and rodents. Try a mouse or lemming pattern or a big hopper!

If you aren't lucky enough to have a trout swamp handy, consider investing in a two-handed rod or a one man pontoon boat. Pontoons make excellent watercraft at one unit or so of generation, and generally the trout are at the highest pitch of frenzy right around 2,500 cfs. When two units or more come on, consider stowing the rod and paying attention to the river. Strainers and downed obstacles or bridge pylons are a risk for inflatable craft, which can tear. If possible, observe the drift boat or jonboat anglers and stick to the same channels these experienced high-water hands use.

If a boat isn't in the budget or if you can't work out a shuttle ride on no notice, try a two handed rod. Traditional spey casts with a two-handed rod can work 60-80 feet of line out with almost no backcast even in a beginner's hands.


Movie: 1.3MB (Click to Stream)
This is what can happen when the scheduling doesn't
go your way. I followed some bad bankside advice and
wound up stranded on this island for almost
two hours.

High water doesn't necessarily have to be the end of a day's fishing. Take prudent steps and seek out new areas. Remember that trout move out of the areas of strongest flow too, so that grass bank by the parking lot might suddenly be quite productive. Above all, be aware of your surroundings and never cross your limits.

Finally, be cautious who you trust to give you scheduling advice. If possible, always check the schedule yourself before an outing, or have a cell phone handy. If you don't know the number for the dam, contact your local fly shop. Shops in tailwater regions will often keep tabs throughout the day.

For more information about fishing in tailwaters, visit the Bulletin Board.

March 3, 2006

Article: Spey Fishing for Trout


Trout speys can handle large fish on light tippet.

Spey Fishing for Trout
By Zach Matthews
First Published January 29, 2005

You have probably heard about it by now; you may even have seen it coming to your area. Spey. What is it? Why is it on a trout stream? Who came up with such a bizarre name? The development of Spey fishing began in Scotland, but chances are it came to your area through the American Northwest. The style is named for the River Spey, which begins in the Scottish Highlands and meanders its way north east to its mouth in the Moray Firth, emptying into the North Sea.

The river is broad, the salmon in it are strong, and rods and styles developed to match those conditions. Typical rods in use on those waters are 15 to 18 feet long, rated for a #10 line, and two-handed. Traditional fishing demands the angler stream wet flies "on the dangle" through the current, hoping to entice a salmon to bite during its spawning run. How did such a muscular style of fishing ever come to be used on trout streams? The answer lies in America. In the second half of the Twentieth Century, anglers on both shores of the North American continent began using two-handed rods for their salmon fishing. At first, styles mimicked the Scottish roots: flies were dangled, rods were slow, the cast graceful.

Over time, American and Canadian pioneers began adapting the newer, lighter, graphite rods to spey use. And with that development, the possibility of a trout spey became a reality.Over time, American and Canadian pioneers began adapting the newer, lighter, graphite rods to spey use. And with that development, the possibility of a trout spey became a reality.


Always wrap your joints!

Technically, the term ‘spey’ is all wrong. Scots will point out that the two-handed style is in use on many rivers, including the Dee, the Tweed, and all over the world. “Spey,” they maintain, is a style of casting, not a type of rod. However, language being what language is, the name stuck, and if you look today you will find “spey” rods, reels, and lines.

For the purposes of most American trout fishing, no spey rod above a #7 is light enough. The best (and only) trout speys on the market tend to be from a #5 to a #7, 12’ to 14’ long, with a soft tip and a rather traditional action. When choosing a trout spey, look for a rod with the proper length of cork on both upper and lower grips, preferably at least 6” below and 10” above. This will allow you to fit the rod to your grip and will help in finding a reel to balance without breaking the bank on a billfish reel. Balance is crucial in spey casting: be sure your reel is heavy enough and has enough capacity to contain at least a #10 line before attempting to purchase a spey line. For most purposes, Rio’s 5/6 Windcutter is an excellent beginner’s option, which will continue to serve just fine as you progress.

Casting a spey rod is a wonderful, eye-opening experience. However, it is not something you can pick up in one session, even for a talented one-handed caster. Purchase Simon Gawesworth’s new book, “Spey Casting,” or watch one of the Rio International Spey fishing videos. For the purposes of trout fishing, where one generally can wade, a combination of standard overhead casts, roll casts, and switch casts will do the trick, although the snake roll is a cast every angler should possess the ability to do.

A spey rod, even a light trout spey, is substantially more powerful than a one handed rod of like weight. Surprisingly, spey rods will protect tippet as light as 6x, although it is more important that fly size be correctly matched to tippet size with a spey rod due to the torque and power of the fly coming off the water. Where you might have gotten away with a #6 wooly on 6x tippet for one handed fishing, count on losing some flies with the spey if you mismatch.


Even trout speys require big reels.

Rigging Up

Assuming a 13’ 5/6/7 weight spey, a word about line selection and leaders. First, spey lines have only recently reached industry standardization. European makers like Hardy have traditionally adhered to the old AFTMA standards, which are measured off the front 30’ of line. Hardy’s Mach I, accordingly, is rated an 8/9 even though it is an appropriate match for a 5/6 trout spey. American makers like Rio do a better job of matching line to rod weight, but appearances can still be deceptive. Match the line to the job you want it to do. A 6/7 Midspey, Rio’s middle length spey line, is a poor overhead casting line, even for a powerful caster, because it is intended for traditional spey casts. The Midspey head weighs as much as some billfish lines, and overhead casting all of it can (and, I learned, will) snap a light trout spey. Pay attention to the grain weights of a line and compare around before buying. For most purposes, the 5/6 Windcutter is a good place to start. Don’t worry about buying the tips kit for trout fishing, a floating line is sufficient.

The leader should be at least the length of the rod. For my 13’ rod, I typically choose a 12’ 5x leader, and I add 3’ of 6x fluorocarbon tippet. For nymphing fluorocarbon tippet is a good choice – it has a higher specific density than monofilament and will sink faster, keeping your leader from bowing as much in the water column. Strike indicators are a necessity. Choose an indicator that does not rely on being dry to float. Yarn is a poor choice, because so many of the spey casts leave the line on the water, dragging it through the film, and yarn will swamp. Palsa foam floats work for a few casts, but eventually they torque off the leader under the strain of spey fishing. I choose to use snap-on or toothpick indicators. On most trout waters appropriate for spey fishing, a larger indicator is just fine.

Where to use it?

Trout spey water can be hard to spot. Some locations are easy: Rim Shoals on the White River in Arkansas is a 100 to 300 yard wide, one to four foot deep shoal at low water – classic spey water. However, the Clinch River in Tennessee, which flows through the oldest TVA dam in the country near Norris, is also excellent spey water, despite its low gradient and slow current. Trout speys are appropriate anywhere a long drift is desirable, where water is deep enough to rig an indicator and nymph, or where current means mending and reaching the depths within 40’ is practically impossible. Many rivers in the country are appropriate for trout speys, even in the East.

Fishing

Indicator nymphing with a trout spey can be a real joy. You have a number of options. Most seams can be approached from below, above, or the side, depending on water conditions. When you locate your foam line or current seam and spot your approach, you can choose which tactic best suits your needs. When approaching a seam from above, try carrying along a stripping basket and pulling 100’ or so of line into it before beginning the drift. (Yes, I said 100’.) Begin with a Czech nymphing style, reaching the nymph above you briefly to allow it to sink below its indicator. Rig your indicator so that the nymph bounces along the bottom but hangs up as little as possible. I choose to weight most of my leaders about a foot above the fly. When the nymph reaches the end of the Czech swing, lower your rod while feeding line. The spey rod is a significant lever, and it will give you plenty of drop time to get your line flowing smoothly. Keeping the rod tip close to the water, play line out of the basket while swishing the rod side to side to feed line. Mend line as needed with a left or right handed soft throw to keep your fly in the seam. Be prepared- takes can come at any point, and on a long drift it is difficult to read water. Concentrate on avoiding drag on the indicator and trust the weight on your leader to keep your fly bouncing smoothly.


The author relaxs with his spey rod.

What if you need to approach the same seam from the side? Conditions can dictate many of the situations we face on the river, and I know we have all been unable to reach that special spot. Try a stripping basket again. Pull out about 80-100’ of line and make an overhead cast upstream, aiming for the back of a rock or some structure if possible. Shoot line out of the basket until your fly turns over, then lower your rod tip. As the line comes back to you, strip into the basket so as never to create a loop at your feet. Hopefully you will get a take, and if you do, just raise your tip. The fish will be facing away from you and the hook should set itself. A little strip strike is also appropriate. When the line comes by your feet, switch to the Czech style again, dapping the line through your position and down the other side, then begin feeding line back out of the basket until you reach the end of your drift. Leave your fly on the dangle for a moment; takes often come as the fly rises.

When approaching the seam from below, simply apply the first part of the method above, again stripping line back into your basket and keeping just enough tension to avoid drag and still set hooks.

Other methods of spey fishing for trout include streamers, of course, as well as dry flies swung through the current. If you intend to do any dry fly fishing choose spun deer-hair flies or very heavily hackled strong water flies. Apply floatant liberally.

Rods and Reels

The current rod and reel market for trout speys is surprisingly slim. Sage makes a 12’ 5 weight in their traditional series, and it is probably the top of the market, but you will pay for it. For people used to one handed prices, spey equipment can carry some serious sticker shock. A $750 spey rod, with a $500 reel of appropriate size, and a $75 spey line can add up. Other options are available, however. A Japanese company called CND owned by former Daiwa-UK rod designer Nobuo Nodera makes excellent, cheaper speys. Their Expert series 13’ 6/7 throws a 5/6 Windcutter nicely and sports appropriate cork, a decent reel seat, especially nice internal ferrules, and quality wraps. CND emphasizes cork, blank, and ferrules more than most companies. A jewelry-bedecked trout spey does not currently exist. Another option is Temple Fork Outfitters rods. TFO offers a 12’6” 6 weight which will handle the Windcutter 5/6, but this rod is lighter and faster than the CND. If you intend to try a lot of nighttime overhead casting, or boat angling, the TFO would be a good choice. Both the CND and the TFO are under $300. Most reels capable of holding a #10 WF line are appropriate for trout speys. Ross’s Canyon Big Game 4 will hold a Windcutter 5/6, as will Redington’s Brakewater and Teton’s big game offerings. Because this is, after all, a trout reel, a killer drag is not required.

Spey Differences


An aerial view of the River Spey, where it all started.

Spey rods carry some odd traditions, and it would be a shame to turn away from a rod just because you didn’t know why certain choices were made. Most traditional speys have an insert-style tip top, like a casting rod.Most traditional speys are downlocking, and they frequently carry a large metal and rubber fighting butt. Typical spey handle designs are full wells both on top and on bottom.

Whenever you fish a spey rod, you should “tape your joints.” Use high-quality electrical tape and lay a strip down one side of the blank, over the ferrule point, then down the other, then wrap the tape in a circular pattern up over your existing tape. Do this for every joint. The ferrule that loosens is the ferrule that explodes. Also use paraffin wax on the male end of all rods before inserting, and check frequently to make sure the ferrules are clean. If your wax becomes dirty, use a hairdryer and some cotton swabs to clean both male and female, then reapply wax. I will not cast a spey rod that has not been taped.

Also, as I stated before, points of balance are very important. If you find your reel is just too light to bring the balance point under your top hand, with a fishing amount of line out, you should consider applying lead tape directly on the arbor, under the backing, of your reel, until the rod balances. There is nothing more tiring than swinging an imbalanced spey rod all day.

Spey Lines

Spey lines largely control spey casts. Most spey lines are a variant of the Wulff Triangle taper (or vice versa). Because a standard spey cast involves forming a D loop of line from the middle of the line and throwing it into the air, most of the weight of the spey line must be at that middle point. Accordingly, most spey lines taper gradually almost all the way from the back of the head, where they are very thick, to the front. Custom spey lines can be constructed out of different sizes of component lines using knotless splices, but thankfully most trout fishing will not require such complex maneuvers.

Spey lines are not widely available in all shops. A few online resources for spey equipment include the Red Shed Spey Shop in Idaho, www.redshedflyshop.com, and Dana Sturn’s Spey Pages, www.speypages.com. Members of the spey fishing fraternity in the Pacific Northwest are the best source of information about line development and custom spliced lines, and many of those original pioneers today serve as rod and line designers for the major manufacturers. Jim Vincent of Rio Line Company got his start designing spey lines, among other things.

Differences in Trout Spey Approach

The article you just read contains some key differences in my approach to trout spey fishing. Most spey fishers do not rely on stripping baskets except for ocean use, because most spey fishers even today swing a set amount of line in the current. The advantages of using the spey rod for trout largely are bound up in the ability to control line at a distance, and the best way to do that is to be able to control a variable amount of line at your feet. Letting a 50’ loop of line dangle downstream while you attempt the Czech Nymph pass portion of the drift described above would spook every fish in the lower drift. Instead, construct or purchase a stripping basket and learn to use it. L.L. Bean’s $19 beauty is the best deal on the market, and I highly recommend it.

Also, many traditional spey fishers will object to the use of the two-handed rod for dead-drift indicator nymphing. Let them. The method is more effective than single-handed nymphing and is highly fun. Give it a try.

For more information about trout spey fishing, check out the Bulletin Board.

 

Article: Screwball Looks, Lonely Places


Did you know a Crazy Charlie will catch a carp?

Screwball Looks, Lonely Places
by Zach Matthews
First Published September 18, 2004

Ten years ago, maybe even fifteen, you'd have gotten a strange look if you mentioned flyfishing for carp anywhere this side of the Atlantic. Since then, carp seem to have become the species everyone feels obliged to mention at least once. You see carp in magazines, in books, even on the occasional flyfishing television show. Although some of these articles and books have been very good, carp have still managed to slip under the radar of the American angling public. In Europe, carp fishing is an established and expanding sport. Whole magazines are dedicated to the species and anglers routinely make the local newspapers gripping-and-grinning these fish like they know something we don't. After all, here in the United States the average angler would rather be photographed knee-deep in his sinking driftboat than discovered to have hooked a carp, much less caught it and looked proud about doing so. Sure, some enlightened anglers have begun to target carp - usually out of curiosity or boredom with still more trout. But if you asked a guy on the street to tell you about carp, he'd give you a funny look and inform you, sonny, that carp are widely known to be the nastiest, slimiest, plug-ugliest, bottom-dwelling-est fish on the continent. So before I get into why I not only respect the species, but actively seek to embarrass myself by catching them, maybe a brief review of the carp's less-than-noble history in the United States is in order.

How did an overgrown Asian goldfish get in my trout stream?

The common carp, cyprinus carpio, is nothing more and nothing less than the largest minnow in the world. (Before your prejudices are confirmed, look into the noble tarpon's not-so-prestigious relationship with the common herring, the silver king's 'other side of the sheets' little brother).


Who says carp aren't beautiful?

Although the carp is native to central Asia, it was intentionally introduced in the United States in the 19th century, as (you guessed it) a fast growing, cheap and potentially abundant source of food for the expanding nation. Unfortunately, the carp's greatest strength, its superhero tolerance for pollutants and poor living conditions, turned out to be its Achilles' heel. Compare, for example, late 20th century tests of the 1600 most common pollutants in United States waters (of which only 135 were found to be fatal to carp) with the many ways one can kill an average rainbow trout. Trout roll over like kryptonite was dumped in the stream if a heavy rain falls in the neighboring county. Yet, it is this very tolerance that has given carp such a bad name. After all, who wants to catch a fish that lives in the cesspool behind the office parking lot, casting between Styrofoam cups? Ah, but correlation does not equal causation, my friend.

Just because a carp can live in the worst conditions does not mean all carp do live in the worst conditions. The two best places to catch carp in my home area are the local trout stream and the local lake (a source of drinking water for the city). Moreover, few practical fly-fishing locales are likely to be as polluted as that storm drain behind the office complex. Remember that a carp's tolerance range includes the beautiful as well as the ugly, and that clean rivers make for clean fish.

Ok, assuming I might want to catch them, how do I do it?

The most common misconception about carp fishing is that it is easy. It isn't. People assume that carp are easy to catch for the same reason they assume all carp are diseased: nothing that ugly could be difficult to trick. Fortunately, this belief is just as flawed as the first one. Carp are, in all likelihood, the spookiest, trickiest, smartest fish found in the waters of the United States. They have phenomenally sensitive mouths equipped with chemically receptive cells which allow the carp to distinguish food from foe in an instant. In addition, carp actually have nostrils, small holes near the eye sockets which flush in water and allow the carp to sample its surroundings like a lizard testing the air with its tongue. Once spooked, a carp emits an alarm pheromone which alerts other carp to the danger. Thus, one shot is often all you get, even in waters where the carp experience no fishing pressure.

The best thing about carp fishing in the United States is the availability of fish and water. Ever wonder what trout fishing in the early 17th century would have been like? Visions of empty water chock full of uneducated fish swim before the eyes; the angler versus the fish with only the fish's native wiliness to avail it. Those days are gone, friend. If there's a trout inside the United States that has yet to see a wooly bugger it either lives inside a volcano or it will soon be riding in a hatchery truck. Carp, however, may as well be new to this earth.

Europe, as mentioned, has organized carp angling which selects for educated fish, mimicking the arms race that has already occurred between North American anglers and salmonids. Carp, with such an impressive biological arsenal already at their command, are certain to quickly reach new levels of uncatchability once angling pressure begins in earnest.


The author with a typical carp from his home waters.

And, just as saltwater fishing opened up in the previous decades, so too will carp fishing in the coming years. The nature of our expanding population and diminishing trout resources practically make a growing carp fishery inevitable, and if you don't yet believe it, look to Europe.

The tools for catching carp now were largely developed in the great saltwater laboratories of the past decade or so. Although blind fishing is an option, the thrill of catching carp is in the stalk, just as it is with redfish and bonefish, so I focus on sight-fishing alone. Carp in common conditions can easily cross twenty pounds, so be prepared with strong tackle appropriate to the situation. Eight weights with high-end reels are appropriate for river situations, but consider scaling up to a ten weight if you target carp in waters where they can sound for the bottom. Horsing a carp out from under a dock is particularly difficult. Pay close attention to the terminal tackle. Most modern saltwater lines are merely adequate for carp fishing, which often demands trout-like presentations with larger food sources. Avoid bass bugs and other tapers which might turn a fly over too aggressively. Use tapered leaders at least as long as the rod, but use the strongest pound test you can get away with. Ten pound Climax fluorocarbon is my usual tippet.

Flies range from my personal favorite, the Crazy Charlie in whatever color matches the stream bottom, to orange-headed wooly buggers in white and olive, and egg-patterns colored to resemble mulberries, corn, or trout eggs. Choose patterns based on the vegetable as well as animal sides of the menu, because carp are omnivorous. Additionally, have a look around the web. Carp fishers are scattered widely enough for some real regional varieties to develop in fly selection, and most of the best patterns aren't commercially available.

Hooking Up

Carp are at their trickiest, and most rewarding, when the sun is high and the water is slick. Although I am not above chumming up some lake carp for a quick evening of bulldogging some fish, I find the early afternoon carp stalk to be among the most entertaining forms of fly-fishing I have experienced. Wear polarized sunglasses and locate a section of your local carp water, whether river or lake, which allows for shallow wading. Even granddaddy carp will tail in less than six inches of water.

Begin your stalk upriver (or upwind in still water), with the sun wherever you can see ahead of you best. I find it helps to use the reflections of trees or nearby hills to cut some of the glare off the water. Again, polaroids are absolutely not optional: you need them avoid wasting your time. Carp will skim across the flats seemingly at random, sometimes holding in predictable patterns and sometimes meandering about. Usually they are looking for food, which they attack by hoovering up the sediment and filtering out crustaceans, plant matter, and bugs. Just as a bonefish puffs away at the bottom, so will a carp root for his dinner.

In deeper water, carp will sip debris lines just like trout, picking mayflies, caddisflies, or seedpods off the surface with an audible slurp. On the flat, approach the carp from "over his shoulder," and carefully wade as close as necessary for a really clean cast. For the best results with a ten pound carp (my target size with an eight weight) you will want to be able to hit a three inch target thirty feet away. That three inch strike zone is usually immediately "behind his ear," or in the slot just between his pectoral fin and his eye, approximately six inches away from the fish. Cast for distance first as the fish are not line shy, then lay the fly in with an audible plop (but not a splash). If you are lucky, the carp will turn to see a potential food source drifting down and will grab before the adage about being too good to be true finishes flashing before his eyes.

This cast usually gets me about 50-50 results when I nail it. Some carp will blow out of the pool the minute the fly makes contact.


Deep water carp can require extra care in handling.
Because of those chemical signals, the best bet is to wade to the bank and start over a couple hundred feet away. Another approach makes use of the carp's feeding proclivities. Like a bonefish, carp often spot prey by the puffs of sediment the critters send up when scurrying away from danger. When you see a carp prowling for food, lead your fishy receiver like a quarterback by just a few yards and give your fly time to sink. I particularly enjoy this method with a Crazy Charlie or similar hook-upwards pattern. Let the fly settle, then when the carp comes in range, twitch it just enough to stir up some dust. Usually, the carp will be on you like a duck on a June bug.

Eat the Wind Out of His Sails

Carp are dogged, never-say-die fighters. On light saltwater tackle, in a river, you have a good chance of landing even a large specimen. In open water, plan for some power-cleaning. The first time I fair hooked a carp, no chum and all hands aboveboard, was on a cane 5 weight with an outdated Orvis Battenkill 5/6 disc drag reel. I broke him off just as he was getting up to plane - thirty feet into my backing! Two other jumbo specimens played me the same song that day, but I came back better armed with an eight weight and a saltwater-class reel. Dial your drag up to 'never say die' and lean into the fish.

Carp fight like a cross between a redfish and a bonefish - hard, jagged runs, one after another, and a net-run for certain. Nothing short of a full grown striper will pull like that in most rivers where carp are found. In a river, play the carp like you would a really big trout, turning his head at the end of a run and working him against the current. If you don't have a buddy with a really big net handy, let him waterski himself across the current and right out onto the bank, where you can subdue him. As Lefty says, 'don't burn your golf balls' - treat the fish right and release him with as much care as you would a baby brookie. Besides taking natural selection and the inevitable arms race out of the picture, it is just the decent thing to do. If you want to try eating a carp, be my guest. I may be enlightened but some cooties die hard.

This Ain't No Beauty Contest

I may have referred to carp as 'plug ugly' a time or two in the past. I admit it, I did this before I really came to know them. No carp I have landed to date has been anything short of elegant. If redfish with their beauty spots and bonefish with their sucker mouths can grace the covers of our finer fishing magazines, carp deserve their shot too. This is a pleasure that is certain not to last. The golden days of empty rivers and screwball looks can only last so long, friends, and though I drive in a nail by saying so, you really must try this.

For more information on carp fishing on the fly, visit the Bulletin Board.