Trout Camping

At left, a fellow on adventure with his wall tent. Gentleman is Mr. James Willard Schultz in an undated photograph shared on wikicommons by Montana State University's library system for the mere price of attribution. Thanks, folks!

My favorite trout dash lies about three hours from my door. This isn't bad; but, when the fishing is in the evening it can make for a haul to get home.

Thus, I am increasingly drawn to trout camping.

I like tents. I like them a great deal. There is something very wrong with me.

I like everything about camping even the occasional wet socks ( in the days when my self-crafted tarp footprints extended beyond the boarder of my tent).

I've found a nice 3-man tent that is light enough to pack for as long as I'll pack gear these days  which is about 5 miles, really. My days of  heavy hauling for distances are long gone. I'd rather camp and dash off with a small bug-out day-bag than pack the whole pile of accouterments for very far.

Luckily, there is some wonderful gear available. The chance to dash in an early afternoon, fish the evening, have a little late night supper, and sleep for a few hours before heading home in the morning really appeals to me.

I'll let you know how it goes. A solo stove, a Marmot 3P Tungsten tent, a mossy coleman bag, the small cooler soft-side lunch-bag, a five gallon mini-bull of water slung on a stick.

I'll even drink instant starbucks in the field.

Who am I kidding?

I like cowboy coffee just fine and make a damn fine cup of it.

That sound you hear is not a bear. It's a contented fly fisherman snoring under the stars on a trout dash.

It's summer. Don't waste it.

There aren't too many left.

Trout Camp 2015 Spring

Trout Camp for Spring 2015 is in the books. We fished the Pere Marquette near Baldwin.

Obligatory pictures:

New Amber Angler Chris showing the gung-ho spirit on a day where it rained 16 hours straight.

Chris and I fished this section together and you can see why he was gung-ho. Beautiful country. Great river. Good access.

My buddy Chip with whom I fished the morning before the series with Chris above. We had fun even before the Amber Liquid - that's a Two-Hearted in his hand. Yes, named for the Hemingway story. We drink clas here in the Amber Anglers.







I don't have pictures of the other crew. I'm not a very good photographer and none of the other Amber Anglers have stepped-up. Wilson did however give each of us wonderful waterproof pouches this year which served quite well considering the spill rate.

Yes, we fell. We fell a great deal.

Chip and I started off in a section where I knew I'd go down. I left, stopped by Baldwin Bait and Tackle, and bought a Simms wading staff that Wilson has used for a few years now. Saved. My. Ass.

Totals:

Chip went in twice - full on - on the stretch we started and I left. Soaked him.

I fell the next morning just entering the river. Luckily, I did a "sit" fall and only splashed myself and my dignity. I tripped over the wading staff.

Rumour has it our Alaskan made a brief dip - nothing too bad.

Our chef Big Bear (aptly named) took a bad fall that had me concerned. He floated a hole and at one point had four paws (including the one holding the reel) only above the water. He managed to drain, re-suit, and fish a good hour before deciding to return to the cabin for lunch.

Five degrees cooler and we all could have had some field-expedient intervention. I've ended up field stripped by force wearing someone else's waders, a donated shirt, hat, jacket, and bounce marched back to civilization. I'm alive. We needed nothing so severe.

Conditions were first hot then cold. Wilson made excellent fires. Moberon had wonderful Bell's beverages for refreshment. Chef Big Bear fed us like we were rabid infantrymen with tapeworms. I'm getting old. I can't handle the volume of food I might want to eat anymore.

Our new member who couldn't make the trip sent a bottle of fine amber spirits. He's in.

Steak night was great but for the fact my buddy Chip had to leave us early. These young pups have other commitments. I'm all done bird hatching so my time is my own. Took a long time to get here, though.

One of our new anglers had a free trip up in Canada and couldn't make it. Of course. Free trip in Canada.

One of our original members lives completely in a world of shit and couldn't make it. His life will change. Young lives do. We''ll still be around when his world turns as it always does.

I gave everyone some of my ugly flies. They were not magic flies, alas.

Chris - our new member from the pictures above - was super to fish with and in his first fly fishing camp hooked a fish. He got to feel the fish on the end of his line. Awesome. Not to hand - probably because I gave everyone my barbless flies - but there it is. I had several hook-ups not come to hand too.

Chris and I traded gear for a bit because I wasn't in love with the set-up he borrowed for camp. Nothing wrong with it except that it's a stiff (tree trunk stiff) six-weight that robs some feeling. I made it work fine and so did Chris; but, he got to fish my new 5 wt Hardy Zenith a while.

I lost a nice fish on his 6 wt when I was in current, hooked, and didn't move to slack water soon enough. Broke 5x tippet. No help from the rod but it was my fault. Had the bloody rod in the air like I was fighting marlin and I know better on nice fish. I got what I deserved for that bit of stupidity.

Didn't make a difference trading gear. Bastard is a natural athlete with better than solid hand-eye coordination. He was throwing line just fine in roll and overhead and the lob after about an hour. Takes instruction well. He's as good as any of us just picking up the rod.

Great he was able to hook-up down on the stretch in the picture above. Great riffle before a pool and he had one take a hare's ear I tied.

Highlight of my trip having a new guy hook-up. Made me feel we have a chance at being something other than old guys waving sticks.

The wet weather didn't sit well with all the anglers. I like shitty weather. There's something wrong with me and I wade like a club-footed T-Rex. Rain helps my approach. Maybe the late-summer/fall camp will have blue-bird weather.

Fish?

Well, not many.

Fish are not the reason we're at it, anyway. They help. So do smoked oysters, steaks, s'mores over the fire and salted-chocolate chip cookies. The meat pie Chef Big Bear made was amazingly tasty. I love meat baked in crusts. Damn fine food.

Now, back to improving our skills.

I've got a new wading staff. Won't be leaving home without that little beauty. I keep a bail-out bag in the car, too. Clothes will fit most. Always helps.

Fish Camp News - Prep Section

Spring trout camp is almost here for the Amber Angler crew. This year: Pere Marquette.

The reports seem to show bugs hatching. Cool.

They also show the side effect of this lingering spring in that part of the world: salmon fry. Lots of salmon fry.

So, with the solid week of rain predicted and the abundance of fry: streamers.

I know it is Michigan and the history of Kelly Galloup but I'm not a fan of 7" sex dungeons. I'm not.

Kelly does have a lot of smart stuff to say, however. His take on induced action from almost neutrally buoyant streamers is a good one. So, I'm tying some bottom dredgers and some neutral streamers that can be worked for action.

We'll be trowing fry-sized streamers which is fine with me. Size 10 dry fly hooks work just fine for small bucktails. They're easier to pry out of the back of someone's neck, too.

Streamers are their own type of evil. Here's a take on the problem from some pretty amusing film-makers.



Streamers Inc from scumliner media on Vimeo.

Just in case some of the Amber Anglers need something more - here is a bit of streamer help from the folks at Red's who happen to shoot nice video, too.

I have both an 8 wt and 5 wt Ambush line from Wulff. I also use a Joan Wulff and a series of TT and TT plus lines. I love the stuff.









Lastly, Andrew Toft shows some wonderful technique. You have to get through the language and accent - as well as soft volume. Wonderful stuff, though.




As a qualifier: I know this stuff is new. I spent all winter with my edition of Gawesworth's Single Handed Spey Casting,  Macauley Lord's  L.L.Bean Fly Casting Handbook, and Rosenbauer's Prospecting for Trout as well as books by Dave Hughes (2 books, actually), Sly Nemes (also 2 books), and Bob Wyatt. My favorite read is Joan Wulff's New Fly Casting Techniques. She really helped clean up my delivery stroke.

Yes, I cast like a girl. If that girl is Joan Wulff, I'd wear that badge to my grave. My golf game has a lot more in common with Dottie Pepper than Tiger Woods, too. Most amateurs ought to be looking more at LPGA style of play than PGA. Those PGA guys are in a whole different universe.

Joan has spent years teaching complete idiots to cast well. She's working on me through her books. Joan is to the technical aspects of casting what Dave Peltz is to technical golf. If you want to know why what you are doing is working against you, Joan can explain it and put you on the right track. She's a doll.

I've gone to school over winter on better technique, better water reading, and better attention to details about behavior, environment, and the clues to trout all around me.

Now I have to clean-up my fly presentation. It's all about presentation.Well, and not being a complete idiot about the flies you use. Maybe it isn't "all" about any one thing.

Yes, I need more days on the water. We all do.

I'm getting better. I'm disappointed that the spring outing doesn't look like the soft hackle bonanza I'd hoped. Trout practice for steelheading with streamers can be a lot of fun.

I'm tying flies. I'm practicing my spey technique. I've outfitted my rods.

I'm stretching that avocational enjoyment just as far as it will let me. I've got to get more out of limited days on the water. I'm working it.

So will you.

Prost.

Ugly Flies

I tie ugly flies.

AT left, plate one from the 1860 volume by Henry Wade Salmon Flies from Rod Fishing. Public domain image without copyright from wikicommons (and a redundant disclaimer, to boot).

These are wonderful flies. I have a soft spot for salmon flies. I have a soft spot for salmon. I have relatives who only mean "salmon" when they say they are going fishing.

The first time I saw a Spey rod in the mortar house (where we kept both types of mortars), I thought it was some sort of buffoonish prop. Now, I'd read all of McClane's New Fishing Encyclopedia at this point but still had never seen a Spey rod. At least, it didn't stick.

I had a copy of the encyclopedia thanks to Book-of-the-Month club.  We bought a lot of books at my house and sometimes I got to spend the bonus points that came along. The volume came from the windfall.

So, Salmon flies. Gems on hooks, really. I can't see the colors anymore but I remember them. I remember the iridescence.

I tie ugly flies. Luckily for me trout eat ugly things.

I started back at the vise a couple months ago after last tying flies with any serious intent in my uncle's basement in the summer of 1980.  I had a Thompson clone around here somewhere that I bought at a curio shop in Kansas in the late 1980's. I've used it a few times over the years. Never more than three or four at a time and years between. My materials finally got buggy (the hair) or brittle (the feathers).  Some of the feathers were OK still. A few.

So, back at the vise. It has taken a while - and a new pair of glasses - to get back to speed in tying. I had a hard time even whip finishing by hand when I started back.

So, a couple hundred flies and I'm doing fine. I've even learned a couple new techniques. Shocking, I tell you.

This all matters because I've tied a bunch of flies for the Amber Liquid guys to use at spring trout camp here in a little over a week.  They're functional flies (and the amber liquid guys don't read the blog so no worry on the surprise).

They are however, ugly.

There's a lot of rusty brown and black bodies and grey and brown hackles. There is some flash and a few nice 18 partridge and yellow tied with silk. They're not "pretty."

Most are a little lumpy or the hackle is a little far back (don't crowd the eye George would tell me over his own glasses as we drank Coors beer and tied) or the lead winds on the butt indicating that it is a weighted nymph protrude a little far or aren't too tight.

You get the idea. I'm going to give them to the Amber Angler guys and they will suspect I am trying to rig the "big fish" contest we have at each fish camp.

Some won't know trout eat ugly. Crippled duns, wingless spinners, dead sculpin, caseless caddis.

Mayflies are beautiful. Iso larvae are just ugly little guys.

So. I tie ugly flies. I'm happy with them. The trout eat them. I don't think trout get "beautiful" on the plate nearly as often as we'd like to believe.

I double whip finish so they don't come undone. I think the batch I give the Anglers I will dab with Sally Hansen's. I don't use the stuff but lest something come apart in the water, I'm going to be doubly sure.

The ugliest ones I'll naturally save for myself.

Big Fish trophy is in the bag.

Prost.

Mason Tract - Chase Bridge Version

Out and about scouting trout this past weekend. I found a great deal of sand. I wanted to go to the Deward tract on the upper Manistee, but  I couldn't pass down the rough county "road" off paved CO612. The road needs a Subaru at a minimum.

Went to both Goose Island campgrounds on the flies-only stretch of the Manistee. Sand sand sand. If it rains, you're stuck. Here I was lucky and escaped. I'd say it requires a pick-up or non-cross-over SUV.

I then backtracked to the Chase bridge entrance to the Mason tract for the south branch of the Au Sable.

 Lovely.

The road is paved all the way to Chase bridge. There is a nice parking spot for half-a-dozen cars though there is a canoe launch so spots on weekends in summer are going to be tough to find.

I idled down the two-track Mason Trail Road which was in fine shape for a good 1/3 of a mile into the Mason track. It was "family sedan on picnic" worthy with several pull-outs for one or two vehicles. As you see in the pictures it too is not a place to be is a rain squall blows through.

That said - here are the recon photos:

 The road about 20 yards past where I pulled over. Full-sized SUV or Jeep. No doubt. The ruts are about a foot deep. The mud is slippery as snot. I almost fell in a little spot off camera as I walked up!

This is a trail marker on the Mason Tract hiking trail which also serves fly anglers. Very clear markers. Nice branding.

Example trail segment. Nice pathways. Minimum walk-around or widening. Easy passage.

You share the trail. Bear marks (I didn't photograph the scat). The log is about 19" in diameters. The dark spots in the shredded parts are teeth marks bigger around than my finger about two-and-a-half inches deep. Not porcupine. Definitely bear.

Trail marker. Map. Very clear. This spot marks the intersection of the Mason trail with a designated pathway leading to the river.

The river from the access point above. Lovely wading section.










Hendrickson and caddis on the water. Caddis rising slowly from rippled sections. Hendricksons dive bombing.

I fished soft hackle flies that I tied. I hooked four fish. Had two to hand.

Three small browns (2 in the 8-inch variety and 1 smaller 6-ish) and a 10+ inch bookie. It was a blast.

The brookie I caught two minutes after entering the water, spotted him feeding, fished to him, hooked him. Right out of the chute. Had him to hand for a wet release - barbless.

I fished an 88" adaption of a Leonard taper by a local builder. It's a nice 4 wt bamboo which is to say it is a solid rod able to roll and mend and carry a lot of line (nearly the whole fly line at one point).  I fished a 5x then 6x and finally 7x flouro tippet and managed to get good drifts on fish I targeted.

I was lazy and fished downstream or nearly downstream about half the time. I used the long line to help spread my drift without wading into sight range. It paid in terms of active takes during the drift but too much line let me miss more fish than I hooked.

I knew what was happening but I was having fun just feeling the thrashing fish on my fly even when he only barely hooked-up (just enough to know I had a fish but not enough to even see or say "hooked").

The breeze ran maybe 3 mph. Mosquitoes are out in force. Ticks are out in force. They'll be some bug spray and too-frequent showering at trout camp in a couple weeks.

I'll try not an be so lazy next time and wade upstream to stalk my fish. This was a two-brew and cigar outing. Ate my sandwich in the car on the way up. Spikeburger at Spike's Keg O' Nails and then home.

Best news of the day? Waffle fries are back at Spike's.

Chase bridge is a wonderful piece of preserved timber and worth many more visits. A nice gentleman who has retired to those parts gave me the clue on the wading here. Locals love it. There are good four miles that are nearly always passable with only a couple tricky parts.

For the Au Sable, that's pretty good!

Great day on the water. Just what I needed.

Of course, Sunday I stopped at the local shop and bought just what I don't need. Hey - it was a deal.

Fish Porn ... a day late

I've been engaging in technological activities other than fishing. Sad, but true.

I have tied a ton of flies lately. Most of these "poorly tied flies" will be gifts for the Amber Angler guys so that they have excuses not to catch fish (was using jack's useless flies again).

Anyway, while we contemplate the application of technology, here's one that has merit.

Shore Lunch

At left, a print from a glass-plate negative from the Brooklyn Museum donated to the public domain as having no known copyright restrictions. Image is on wikicommons.

The gentlemen anglers - suitably well-dressed for dry fly men - have lunch in 1900.

I sent my mother-in-law a Zingerman's rueben sandwich kit for Mother's Day. The Amber Liquid guys will probably be appalled (Zingerman's holds little cache with adopted locals. I think they've been spoiled by other US locations where good food abounds. It doesn't abound in very many places. Certainly, quality deli treats do not).

Amber liquid guys don't read this blog, anyway. They're living the life of adventure - which means they don't dream of fish at night as I do. I dream of other things too, but fly fishing is the nice part and I don't wake my wife when dreaming of it.

Sending the gift to Marion got me thinking about shore lunch.

Now, I'm fortunate in that my guides have fed well despite mixed encounters.

Mostly my guide problem stems from either not being prepared for the technical job at hand (bonefishing) or not wanting a new best friend (too numerous to count). I don't go fly fishing to have discourse about, well - anything. I'll take direction but I'm not wanting to play 20 questions and that's now (I am much more mellow now than say twenty years back).

All my guides have been good field cooks. Some qualify as amazing cooks. I personally have never had a bad guide cooked meal.

I almost foundered at the Hideway Lodge in Emo, Ontario a few years back prior to a flight out. Wow. What a breakfast. (Special order. I think our pike/walleye crew have used that card.).

Anyway.

Lunch I make myself  when fishing for trout tends to be cold and sparse. Maybe ham and cheese. Most likely some jerky and something else (survival ration?).

I'm going to change that this year. I might not have hot, but I'm going to have good.

Corned beef and swiss sounds pretty good. I like dry sandwiches for travel. I might have to go wet by separating the contents and doing field assembly. There's and idea.

I really want to get a solo stove and do a sausage-and-pepper-and-onion in pita type feast. [ link at right].

I'm trying to beat the gear-whore curse.

I bet fishing partners might be easier to tear away from whatever family obligation they have going with such a treat, though.

I'm going to think on this shore lunch business for trout.

Why should walleye guys have all the glory (and fried fish)?

Prost.