Carolina Coastal Camping Adventure

The Low Country of South Carolina is one special place full of history, culture, relaxation, and endless  potential for family fun.  My family and I have been visiting this isolated region of the state for nearly ten years and we never leave disappointed.  This past Columbus Day weekend my sister and brother in-law made the trip down from Chicago to share a camping trip with us and experience first hand why we keep coming back.

Our first morning we were greeted by one of those picture perfect sunrises only available on the East Coast as the sun breaks the long line of the Atlantic Ocean.  My brother in-law and I share a love of hooking into some gills so with a brilliant sun in our faces we hit the surf to try our luck.  I managed to hook into a small Lady Fish but unfortunately he only got to practice his casting.  For all the beauty of the small island we frequent on our camping trip, I have never had much luck in the fishing department.  It never stops me from trying however and I always bring my rods and gear just in case I hit it at the right time.

  My kids always come out to cheer me on when I toss that fly out there into the surf but on this morning they were content to watch the sun cast a rainbow of colors into the deep blues of a clear sky.  We were lucky enough to have an offshore buildup of clouds that provided a great photo opportunity.  It was also one of those sun rises that stick in your mind for the rest of the day.  It sets the mood that this is going to be a great day and nothing can beat it.

    After a great breakfast that you can only get in the outdoors with a cast iron skillet and a cooler full of eggs, sliced potatoes, all cooked in bacon grease, we packed up the beach gear and made the twenty yard trek over the sand dune to the beach.  Immediately the kids are in the water and the adults set up some gear and enjoyed the waves and weather.  We made some sand castles, dug up some shells and eventually began a long nature walk on the virtually empty beach in search of interesting thing that have washed up on the last tide.  This small island is blessed to be a state park and is virtually deserted besides the campers and a few tourists that visit the light house so there is few beach combers to compete with.

 Besides the normal shells and drift wood, this year we keyed on the illusive SHARK TEETH!  As I said the other day, everyone love finding shark teeth.  Young, old, men, women - it is just an awesome find.  In the past nine years I have only been lucky enough to spot one tooth but this year we gave it a reel effort and in a short time had over a dozen teeth in hand.  Ranging in sizes from a two inches to one that was barely the size of my 4 year old's pinky finger nail - It was one of the smallest I have ever seen.  Looking up the teeth at the local ranger station we discovered that the teeth more than likely belonged to Sand sharks (the one to the left), a few Lemon shark teeth, Bull, and Thresher Sharks.  What is amazing to me is that these teeth are fossilized - thousands of years old -  and they are just as sharp today as they were when the shark dropped them.  I actually tried to brush the sand off one of the larger ones with my thumb and left behind a sliver of skin on the point.  Even long after they are dead sharks can still take a bite out of you.  Just another one of Gods amazing creatures.

While hunting up shells and teeth, my daughter found a hitch hiker in the surf and picked him up. It was one of the many species of butterflies out this time of year on the island.  This one was a Gulf Fritillary (Agraulis vanillae nigrior) and it had somehow fallen into the surf so my daughter let him ride on her hat for another half hour till its wings dried.  At one point he crawled over the brim of her hat and hung upside down, looked her strait in the eye, and seemed to say thank-you.

Later on we made the walk down the beach to a section my little boy calls the 'forest of dead trees' due to the fact that the ocean has over the years eroded enough sand that it began to encroach on the forest.  The result is that a number of oaks, palms, and pines have been salt poisoned and toppled over into the beach.  At high tide you find yourself going over and under huge bleached root balls and tree trunks that provide shelter to an abundance of crabs and tidal creatures.  It also provides endless opportunities for photos.  Ansel Adams would have had a field day with the black and white camera.

As always our time spent on the coast of Carolina was memorable and too short.  Even with a late night thunderstorm that left most our stuff damp on our last day, we left the sea shore happy and content counting the days till we can make our way back. 

(For those that are really interested in just where this slice of paradise is - Email me and I just might tell you.  Lately the word on this campground has gotten out and we have hard time getting the sites we enjoy.  Call me greedy but like the fisherman I am - I feel inclined to keep this spot as much a secret as I can even if it really isn't a secret anymore.)

Remnants Of A Killer

Who doesn't like finding shark teeth?  Seriously, you could be 80 and in that moment that you pluck a fossilized shark tooth from the sand, you feel like you are 8 years old again. It was slow going in the fishing department - one lady fish on a clouser - but that doesn't matter. A weekend with the fam hunting up teeth on the Carolina coast, doesn't get much better than that!

A Weekend In The Surf

  The family and I join up with my brother and sister-inlaw for a little camping on the beaches of lower South Carolina. Fun, family, toss in a little early morning fishing and its shaping up to be a great few days.  Now if I can only get the sand to stay on the beach instead of in my shorts!
    More to come once I get back to the real world.....

The Adams History

    Sometimes the oldies are truly the goodies and in the case of the Adams Fly that assessment has never been more true.  Arguably the best known fly to originate in North America, the Adams Fly is the standard barer for all fly tyers searching to create that magic fly pattern that will be around long after their time on the stream has passed.  There is not a fly fisherman out there that hasn't heard of the fly, fished it, and I even venture to say caught something on it.  

    Originating in the 1920's from that now famous fly fishing region of the U.S. (Traverse City Michigan, a mecca for any fly angler) The Adams story is one often retold at the table of fly shops across the country and in countless books.  This little fly is so popular that there is even a monument placed near the place where it was created.  Seriously, Its own monument, that how successful this little fly is.  The inscription on the monument reads: 

 "In 1922, ardent fly fisherman Leonard Hallady created the first Adams dry fly near his home on the banks of Mayfield pond. He named it in honor of his good friend, Judge Charles F. Adams, another enthusiastic angler who loved to fish for brook and brown trout in the nearby Boardman River. The Adams combines brown and grizzly hackle; many trout anglers claim it is the best fly ever made. Some, in fact, declare that if they had to use only one fly for all of their trout fishing, it would be the Adams."

    Over the years, as with all things that are successful, this little fly has been copied, altered, retied with newer materials, and bastardized to excess.  Some variations have proven successful and others that can't prove their worth simply fade away from the fly display cases.  Regardless of all the changes, the spirit of the original Adams survives and remains a constant showman in all fly shops. 

   Now with all that common knowledge out of the way I'll give you a little information you might not have known.  In the 1800's there was a species of grayling specific to the great lakes and Michigan that dominated the area for centuries but due to environmental deterioration and massive over fishing the grayling disappeared.  In the 1880's the grayling was so easily caught and plentiful, the drive of logging companies from the east used them exclusively to feed their men.  Apparently it was nothing for a man to go to the river for an hour and leave with two dozen grayling in his creel.   Less than fifty years later however they were gone forever.  

   Another species that was all but wiped out was the native Brook trout.  The rainbows that were introduced to supplement the stream habitats eventually began to thin out and around the turn of the century a serious effort was put forth to restore fish to the streams of the area.  Unable to bring back the grayling or the native brook trout,  the administrators took a common approach of the time.  They looked back to the birth of modern fly fishing - England - and their hardy Brown Trout.  

    Stocking the spotted bulldogs in the Michigan streams worked almost to well.  Some might argue that the introduction of the Brown gave a species already on the ropes, a final knockout blow.  I have a hard time arguing with that line of thought but at the time few understood the ramification and all we can do today is learn from past mistakes and move on.  These European trout were well suited to the regions abundant food sources and quickly took over the streams and rivers they lived in.  They adjusted so well that the growing cadre of fly anglers soon found that these new fish were not as easy to catch as the previous species the were use to.  They were extremely finicky and seemingly smarter than the dwindling rainbows.  Out of that frustration was born the Adams Fly.

   The Adams fly of the 20's is not the fly we see today however.  Materials have changed, hooks have been more refined, and the tying has been refined.  The original was tied with feathers from a golden pheasant neck for a tail and a body of grey wool yarn (probably poached from a women's sewing kit).  I  believe that the yarn used in the 20's is still available today even though it has been out of production for nearly 70 years but count on paying for it.  Last time I saw it for sale it was listed for about as much as a new Abel fly reel goes for.

Today the pattern follows a simplified recipe:

• Hook: Dry fly hook, sizes 10-20
• Thread: Gray or black
• Wing: Grizzly hackle tips
• Tail: Brown and grizzly hackle mixed (moose mane for western waters)
• Body: Gray muskrat dubbing fur
• Hackle: Brown and grizzly hackle mixed (2 hackles normally, or 3 for western style flies)

Today I salute the Adams.  It is a fly that is as American as Apple pie and baseball.

Painting the Whitetail Buck

  As the fall hunting season begins my mind cant help but drift to those prevalent whitetail deer that roam the forests of North America.  I am by no means an avid hunter, but I do occasionally find myself being called to the deep woods to hunt these great creatures.  Nothing can beat watching a great buck emerge from a thickly wooded forest in the light of a morning dawn.
  A few days ago however I had a small surgery that has had me laid up for the time being.  It was nothing major, just enough to keep me in the house.  So there I sit, unable to wet a fly or notch my bow and sit among the changing colors of the forest to wait for a deer to pass by.  For a guy that can't sit still for long and always has a project in the works, it is a brutally long recovery.  Today however I felt good enough to exercise my mind and soon found myself picking up paint and paper to paint an outdoor scene that I can only imagine.

This is quite the departure from my usual paintings of trout and fly fishing but I am sure that even the anglers out there can enjoy a Fall Whitetail Buck in a wooded scene.  There might be even a few hunters out there that will stumble on this blog and appreciate this painting.
As for the painting itself, it incorporates many elements that I have never really tried before.  First the deer - I have painted a buck before but never one in such a setting.  It took some practice sketching out the deer and the colors of fur took some experimentation but I think it turned out okay.  Next is the forest - For a guy that concentrates on water and the fish that swim in it, the fall colors of the forest was a real challenge for me.  I decided to forget about the details and go with a classical quick brush stroke approach.  Adding in the lighter sky and barks of the trees with the colors and thin dark branches eventually gave me the contrast I was looking for.
    I am calling it "Fall Whitetail Buck".  The painting measures roughly 11"x9" but will probably fit best in a 8x10 matted frame.  It IS FOR SALE.  Just email me for the details if your interested.  If you would like a print of this work you can email me as well and if I find enough interest in it I might run off a limited count of 8x10 prints.

Its Hunting Season

Its that time of year again.  The stands are in the trees, the corn is being harvested, and the deer are on the move.  Yesterday my buddy convinced me to go out hunting with him at O'dark thirty.  We had set up a few tree stands last week right before he returned to his job and I left on a week long trip.  Neither the two of us are the kind of hunter that calls in sick the first day of hunting season so our excursion to the woods had to wait till our jobs left us with some free time.

  Well yesterday we finally found that time and after only a few hours sleep, we met up with his brother to go wait for some deer. For me sitting in a tree stand and watching the sun rise makes that struggle to get out of bed at 430 all worth it.  The solitude and quiet gives one time to think.  You hear the forest begin to awake with song birds and squirrels and you think 'Is this what growing up in the frontier was like 200 years ago?'
  Of course the pioneers never had a compound bow, and they were hunting to survive, but in my defense my bow is a vintage 70's compound with only the basics.  I don't hunt to survive either but more from a desire to connect to a past and to keep a few of those skills alive in my basic human DNA.  There also that heart pounding pulse of adrenalin that a hunter gets when after hours, and days of sitting in quiet anticipation, a deer appears from the brush and you need to take the shot.

    That surge of energy one gets when you let loose the arrow is hard to explain to someone that has not experienced it.  To see that majestic buck, sniff the air, cautiously emerge from the shadow of the woods,  all the while you lay motionless waiting for you shot - simply amazing.  For a fisherman its like fishing all day without a bite and then just as he has given up hope, up from the deep comes a fish, brilliantly colored, and holding that fly in his mouth as he puts on a aerial display.
  This day however, I saw no buck, I took no shot, and it passed like so many other days out in the woods, just me and my thoughts (which is a scary place for anybody that knows me).  The one exception was I did end the day on a high note.  It was not my shot that brought me joy but that of my fellow hunter.  Across the small valley from my stand, my buddy had made his shot and brought down this great looking Carolina Buck.  With a perfect shot through the lungs, he made the kill as cleanly and quickly - as if it was a lesson in a book.  The arrow had snapped between the legs and within minutes the deer was down.   Great Job Mat!

   

For myself, the time spent quietly in the stand left me with a plan in mind for a project at home.  I had salvaged some weathered cedar from my neighbors deck last spring and had been waiting for a project to use it on.  What I came up with was a rustic gun cabinet.  I had never had one, I needed one (My wife might think otherwise), and quite simply it gave me something to work on.  I can never stay idle for to long anyways and I always have a project or two in the works.
   In a few short hours I had the frame assembled and the weathered cedar sanded out.  I have high hopes for this one and I'll keep you updated on it progress but for now all you get is the pic to the left.  I know it looks like a coffin but just stay with me.  It will turn out looking great....... I hope.

Sketching Trout With Thoreau

Many go fishing all their lives without knowing that it is not fish they are after.
~ Henry David Thoreau ~
A few of us angling addicts think we know why we fish.  Its the same reason that my buddy spends $35 - $50 a week for a round of golf.  We enjoy it.  But when I ran across this quote the other day I began to question the true reason I fish.  There is no better feeling than hooking into some cutthroat or brown in a deep pool, or watching the areal take of a rising brookie or the smashing power of a bonefish taking a fly. But, is there more to it than the hook-up?

  As I was passing the time the other day and sketching this brown, I pondered that question.  I tried as hard as I could to convince myself that I fish for the beauty of the experience   For the chance to be out in nature.  To enjoy the solitude of a lonely mountain stream or placid country pond.  I told myself it was the beauty of the journey that kept me coming back.  Maybe it truly didn't matter if I ever caught another fish. Old Henry D. had opened a door.  It was a new way to look at why I fished.  It wasn't the fish, it was everything else.
    Then as I finished touching up the sketch, I put down my pencil and thought to myself, 'maybe Henry never had a morning full of hatches and leaping fish.  Maybe he never held a brightly colored brookie in his hand.  Maybe he never felt the tug of a monster taking a woolly from the deep, and maybe Mr. Thoreau never spent a  ten hours on a bone chilling river with leaky waders and not a single bite to show for it.'  If he had he would know that it sucks.
    It IS the fish we are after otherwise we would just be another guy on a nature hike.  Now don't go unhinged.  I love backpacking as much as any guy on the AT or PCT but when I go fishing, I go to catch fish.  We can enjoy all that goes with catching the fish but in the end without actually hooking into fish... Whats the point.  If you disagree, I know a place you can donate all your fishing gear.  In return I'll give you trail map and a bag of granola. 

Asian Lenok Trout

'The bonefish of trout.'  That is what I read when I began to research the Lenok trout and I would be lying if I said I wasn't interested in this species.  Then again any trout peeks my interest because lets face it - Trout are the yin for the fly anglers yang.

  When I was contacted by an fellow angler from the other side of the world about painting a pair of special trout for him and his emerging company, I stumbled over myself for the opportunity.  Its not everyday that this humble artist angler gets the chance to go international.  My last international venture was a few book illustrations with Carlos from Barbos con Mosca and it was a joy.  Not only does it expand my resume as such but it also gives me a contact in the region for any future trip to fish those exotic corners of the world. 

  As for the subject of this special painting my Asian friend wanted to showcase the Lenok Trout.
Hu??  What the duce is the Lenok?
The best answer is that it is a deep backwoods Asian trout similar to the brown trout in size and spots.  It also is a trout with lineage.  In some circles it is thought that this special trout could be the link between the Grayling and the trout.  This also might be able to explain why some anglers refer to the Lenok as the Bonefish of the trout species.  Regardless, the Lenok is a beautiful fish.

    Typified by similar brown trout markings, the lenok also sports some brilliant colors along the torso.  Typically these colors are a reddish pink with yellows, all topped off with deep mossy greens on the back.  Having never actually held one of these beauties in my hand - I found it hard to squeeze in a trip to Mongolia last weekend - I relied heavily on the internet and my Asian angler contact email for reference material.
    Hopefully I did them justice.  Maybe someday I can get over there and compare my painting to the real thing.  It felt good to put paint to paper again and I hope you all enjoy it.  Thanks Dennis for the opportunity.

The SCUD!

All hail thou lowly scud.  In a world of creepy looking nymphs and underwater aquatic wiggly creatures that make the skin crawl, you reign supreme as one of the ugliest creatures to swim the freshwater streams of the world.  You are akin to an alien creature sent from some B-movie from the dawn of cinema and if it wasn't for your small stature you would send grandmothers running for the hills.  As it is you simply hug the bottoms of streams, drift with the current, and most likely end up as yet another food source for the more majestic creatures in your little world. And it is for that last and  singular reason that I find you very attractive.  Here is to you Mr. Scud and your 90 fellow North American species that feed the fish on a daily basis.

Slowdown, Relax, And FISH!

Slowdown, Relax, and FISH!  That's my advice to all you.  I know that you didn't as for my advice but I'm giving it to you anyway.  Step away from the everything that crowds your day and find time to fish.

The other day I got home from a trip I took my own advice.  I dropped my stuff right inside the front door, grabbed my fly rod, and hit the pond. This is only the second such trip for me in as many months due to the heat and the snakes and it has been far to long.
Now with the kids back at school and the temperatures coming back to levels more tolerable I feel the tug of a gill on the line bringing me back.  Even the snakes have started to come out of their aggressive mood and retreat back into the tall grass.

For my trip to the pond on this overcast day, I started off like I usually do with a few fancy flies and buck tail streamers.  Unable to hook into any of the still lethargic fish I again grab one of my Junkyard Wood Dowel bass bug and gave it a few casts.  Once again this little bug strikes hard.

I don't know what it is about this little bug but the bass really love it.  I have caught big bass and small bass, bream, sunfish and crappy on this little guy and it is now my go-to little bug.  Today the big boys stayed away down deep in the cool waters of the pond but I did manage to hook some young bass that where cruising the grass beds.
After the bass I decided to have a little fun with the small sunfish that were darting back and forth, probably dodging the same bass that had took my wooden dowel.  I tied on a #14 caddis and gave a flick of the fly out to the edge of a small grass bed.  The result was possible the smallest sunfish I have ever got on a fly.  The tinny catch might be considered bait in most circles, and the truth is I have cast larger flies than this guy, but for me it was the most memorable of the day.

The Smallest Sunfish I Have Ever Caught

After a few hours, a few fish, and the falling of a few raindrops, I pack it in and head home happy and my hand smelling life fish.  My wife might not like the smell but for me there is no better proof of a good day on the water than the sweet smell of fish on your hands.  You can get beat down by hassles at work and the endless amount of chores that always need to be done at home but if you take the time to hook into a few fish on a solitary stretch of water, all those stresses seem to disappear for a little while.   My advice: Go out and get that fishy smell on your fingers and enjoy yourself!

Back With A Brown

    After a lengthy absence from the worlds of fishing, blogging, and painting I am back.  When I started this blog I did so with the idea that it would get me out on the water more as well as drive me to do more painting.  It has accomplished both of those key goals better than I could have hoped.  In fact it has done it so well that when the hot weather rolled in and the summer began to fill with one family activity after another, I began to feel that this blog was more of an obligation than a hobby.  I began to resent the fact that I had to do a post or do another painting.  I began to get the feeling that the whole thing was becoming a little less fun.  For a guy that has always enjoyed fishing and painting, this feeling was a sure sign that I had to step back and get some time away from the internet and the self induced pressure of producing fodder for the blog.

    So for all of you that noticed my absence or missed checking out my new paintings on a weekly basis, I have returned.  Hopefully with the temperatures starting to decline I can even get a few fish on the line.
    As for this painting, you can no doubt tell its a fall colored Brown chasing a Caddis nymph.  I painted this the other day for a charity auction being held early next year.  Its a 8x10 watercolor and gouache on cold press paper.  I am told it will be paired with a guided fishing trip down here in the South East.

    As a reminder to those that would like a wall hanger of your own, I am actively looking for new painting projects.  The number one question I am asked when people talk to me about doing a painting for them is 'How much will it set me back?'  As with most art, the price is rarely fixed before a work is created but I can tell you that I try hard to keep it affordable for the average joe.  Its not a Walmart price but things of quality usually don't come at their prices.

    Typically my original works range in price from $110 upwards to around $230 depending on size and subject.  A few larger painting have been priced higher but most of the works I have created for this blog fall between those two prices.
    Now I'm off to the local bass pond for a little flicking of the fly.  Hopefully those big bucket mouths will be eager to test me leader.

Fall River Bamboo - A Day Of Beautiful Things

  The moment I got the Outdoor Bloggers Traveling Fly Rod made by Fall River Fly Rods I wanted to go out and fish it.  Like a kid on Christmas morning, I tore into the tube eager to get a look at the grass that was inside.  It was a thing of beauty!  Every inch hand crafted and perfect.  As a guy that loves the art of such things, I held it in my hands in awe of the time and skill that went into making it. Unfortunately that was all I could do because the next day I left on a series of business trips that took me away from any chance of using this piece of art for nearly a week and a half.

   Throughout my travels my mind kept drifting back to that Fall River bamboo creation waiting for me at home and the fish that I catch once I got there.  It was an agonizing period of time and when the day finally came for me to fish it all I could do was worry about two things; One - would I catch any fish with it, and Two - Would I break it?

    This past weekend I awoke crazy early - 4am in an effort to beat the heat.  The forcast called for another record breaking day of 100 degree plus temperatures and I felt that if I had any shot to catch fish, I had to do it early.  Starting on a section of the upper Chattooga River (that's right - The Deliverance River - The same river that is in that classic movie staring Burt Reynolds) I began to test out the legs of this one of a kind fly rod.
    First off, the past recommendations on fishing any bamboo rod were dead on.  This fly rod loads great but you need to slow down and take your time.  Like a zen master practicing his morning exercises on the banks of a quiet stream, you need to just savor the feel of the grass in your hand and let the rod do the work.

    After a few short minutes I got the feel of the rod and began to hook into a pool of rainbows.  One after another, these fish fell  victim to the bamboo and the midges dangling at the end of my 5x tippet.  None of these bows were any big test for the strength of this rod which was fine by me.  As I stated earlier, my biggest fear was breaking this beauty.  After wearing out the pool I hiked up a feeder stream and hooked into a few more nice colored bows before taking a side trail back to my car.

    Even at temperatures reaching into the 100's, this area of the country is stunning.  Carefully weaving my way between towering oaks and overhanging magnolia trees, it is amazing the life and beauty you find hidden on the forest floor.  I have always loved the mountain magnolias in bloom.

    With its huge flowers, and a great tree for shade, these trees are the perfect hiding place for a spider to weave his web.  I found this big guy on the end of the bamboo after I inadvertently swiped the rod through his web.  After taking a moment to get a few picks and study this guy, I let him back into the forest.  His web however was another matter.  Back at the car I worked for all of ten minutes to get the sticky webbing off the rod and fly line.  This stuff was so tough I briefly contemplated using it for tippet material.  I pity the poor sparrow that might have flown into this guys web because that bird would be hard pressed to escape.
    Once the web was cut free, I packed up the rod and headed for my real reason for fishing the Chattooga in 100 degree heat.  The Red Eyed bass!!

    I accidentally hooked into one of these last year while fishing for rainbows and I was fascinated how a bass could live next to trout in such cool, fast water.  After further research I couldn't wait to try my hand targeting these uniquely southern Bass.  I remembered that this bass fought as hard as any brown I had ever caught.  It never went into any aerial jumps and I was sure it was a massive brown until I got it close and saw it was a bass.  My initial disappointment turn to wonder and has now developed into a quest, and with the Fall River Bamboo Fly Rod in hand I headed out with those red eyes in my mind.

    The latest edition of my favorite fly fishing magazine had advice on fishing Redeyes and I used the info to my advantage.  Targeting a large rock exposed in the current, I took my time and dropped a #12 wolly bugger about two feet directly behind the rock and in the slack water the bass is known to lurk.  Immediately from the deep rose a dark shadow and took the bamboo and me on a nice little ride.  Believe me when I tell you that what these bass lack in size (they are not known to get much over four pounds and even that would be big), these river bass make up for in fight.  I suppose living in the cool, swift moving water breeds strength.

    I am calling it right now, these redeyed bass are going to be a fish people will travel for.  They might not reach the heights of the Yellowstone Cuts but in the south, I would take these bass over any small or bucket mouth.  They are now on my radar and I am hooked.     

    After a few more hookups and great fights I dabbed the sweat as best I could on my already soaked shirt and watched a large cottonmouth swim past me with a look in his eye I didn't much care for.  Shortly after hooking into a beautiful sunfish I started the long hike back to the car.
    Overall it was a day filled with beautiful things.  The Fall River Fly Rod was amazing and by far the best looking and relaxing fly rod I have ever fished with. ( If you are in the market for some sweet grass you need one of these rods.)  The river itself never disappoints with its steep walls, waterfalls, and swift cool water.  The flora and fauna was amazing and especially the hat trick of sorts (that right--- I called a bow, a bass, and blugill a hat trick) was a perfect addition of to a scorcher of a weekend.
    I would like to thank the Outdoorbloggernetwork and Fall River Fly Rods for giving me a chance to fish this beauty.  It is now on to its next angler to try his hand at fishing grass and I challenge him to have half the fun I did while it was in my hands!  FISH ON!!

Dream Fly Rods and Reels

   I recently got to thinking of what would be my ultimate gear list.  I don't usually do that but I have this unbelievable bamboo Fall River Fly rod staring at me from across the room (More on that in another post) and it got me thinking about my dream fly gear.  Or to be more precise 'dreaming of my bucket list of fly gear'.
   After nearly eight years of fly fishing and collecting gear I still haven't brought myself to spend a whole lot on my gear.  My current list of rods and reels currently occupying a corner of my garage is a motley crew of low end graphite rods, a 40 year old glass rod that is willowy, and a few nicer Tenkara rods.  By far my favorite is a 5/6w rod custom made for me by a friend and labeled as "The Flying Dutchman".  I do love that rod.

    My reel selection is another gang of misfit Southbend rejects off eBay, Cortland, and various other lower end reels that perform when asked to but don't do much for the aesthetic value of the fishing outfit.  My best reel is a mid-range Ross fly start that usually is partnered with the 'Flying Dutchman' and a 6w line.
  All that being said, I do not believe that a more expensive fly fishing outfit will ever yield you more fish.  I can just as easily not catch fish on a $1,500 outfit as well as I can't catch fish on a $100 setup.  Fishing has little to do with the brand of gear being used and more with the skills of the fisherman and the conditions of the water.  However I know that we all have a few pieces of gear we would like to have if we had the choice and truth be told fishing with a higher end setup is often easier and less frustrating.  Anyone who has ever had the drag on their fly reel suddenly break free and watch as thirty feet of fly line and backing gets ripped off the spool by the current while you are trying to battle a 14in brown knows just what I am talking about.

    While surfing the web the other day I came on a few pieces of gear I would love to have.  Over in England Hardy reigns supreme, or at least it use to, so what would be better than that classic piece of machinery.  I found a few at the North East Tackle Supplies and the Fly Depot other online sites that would fit the bill.  The G Loomis rods aren't as old as the Hardy but boy do they make a nice rod.  I got the chance to look these over at the SE Fly Fishing Show and had to wipe the drool from my chin.

 Anything from Abel would be killer but the limited edition ones rock.  Way out of my price range but seriously they rock.  I found this one with a killer red fish on it and.... well what can you say.  Sweet.  Maybe someday they will put my art on a killer reel of theirs..... Now that would be a Dream Piece Of Gear!!!

    What would be your Dream setup?

Painting Browns

After a very hectic few weeks my wife and I sat outside on Sunday afternoon to enjoy the peace and quiet of just being home.  With a beautiful sky and the soft breeze rustling the trees my wife settled down to enjoy her new book and I broke out the paints.  It has been over a month since I had picked up a brush and I struggled to get back in the groove but eventually it started to come back.

 With the Wisconsin browns still fresh in my mind I went to work trying to recreate their stunning colors.  Of course no painting or photo can do them justice but I gave it a shot.  This 8x10 painting only took me ninety minutes to complete and it showed, but while working outside one needs to work fast to overcome the fast drying action of the sun.  This PlenAir style is always rougher than the more finished product of working in a studio but when one wants to paint just to do something while enjoying the fresh air, it is a satisfying past-time for any artist.

  One additional benefit of completing a painting is such sort order is that I have additional time to fire up the new grill I got for fathers-day.  That's right, you can be jealous, I got a new grill.  As my loving wife knew before she surprised me, I prefer the cooking power of good old fashion hot coals to the gas powered grills so prevalent today.  But this isn't your dads kettle grill.  Its got a small propane charcoal lighter for starting the coals, and adjustable rack for heat and an easy to clean tray to remove the spent coals.  In short, this thing is sweet and I can almost guarantee that the butcher-shop is going to get a fair amount of business this summer.  Grill ON!