Fish Stories
- Thread starter sorce
- Start date
sorce
Nonsense Rascal
All cleaned up with just a cop stache left!
Was Frary scared when you pulled up on him! Lol!
Nice bro....
My buddy told me a short kayak story the other day.....
Sorce
Was Frary scared when you pulled up on him! Lol!
Nice bro....
My buddy told me a short kayak story the other day.....
Sorce
M. Frary
Bonsai Godzilla
We never got together unfortunately. We will though. I'll get him up here for pre spawn smallmouths. Get him off of the river and onto a lake.
Major League Fishing is up here again. The last time wasn't enough for them. They are fishing 3 lakes I go to regularly for brutes. Last time KVD set a one day record. All smallmouth.
M. Frary
Bonsai Godzilla
It's killing me! I have to work and have to drive by this crap!
Can't warch the tournament on T.V. Until April.
Can't warch the tournament on T.V. Until April.
Ross
Shohin
I've been fishing some of the streams and ponds in West Dallas recently, mostly catching catfish, but have had several gar on the line as well (tough mouths to hook though). My buddy caught this big guy, a gaspergou (drum fish). After the pics we let him go back on his way.
LanceMac10
Imperial Masterpiece
Primordial, man!!
School me, why the hell do they call it a drum fish?
Hopefully when it tries to eat that guy for revenge, it remembers your good deed!!!
Wonder if it tastes good?
School me, why the hell do they call it a drum fish?
Hopefully when it tries to eat that guy for revenge, it remembers your good deed!!!
Wonder if it tastes good?
M. Frary
Bonsai Godzilla
Because they make a drumming sound when you pull them out of the water.Primordial, man!!
School me, why the hell do they call it a drum fish?
Hopefully when it tries to eat that guy for revenge, it remembers your good deed!!!
Wonder if it tastes good?
I believe they make the sound with their ears.
VAFisher
Masterpiece
Steve that looks like an awesome trip. Nice smallies!
Several years ago I had a blog dedicated to fishing that I really enjoyed. I like photography (not that I'm a good photographer) and I enjoyed trying to write an enjoyable story as well (not that I'm a good writer). Sometime in 2012, I just lost interest in writing it and let it fall by the wayside. I was just looking back through some of the posts and thought I would post one here. This is meant to be tongue in cheek - hopefully that comes across.
How to Properly Match the Hatch
1. Start by picking a destination. Try to pick a place that has some bugs and fish that like to eat them.
2. Take the time to look around and enjoy the outdoor experience.
3. Locate some emerging insects. In this case it's some kind of stonefly and an Epeorus pleuralis mayfly (Quill Gordon to the layperson).
4. Locate something in your fly box that's similar in size and color to one of the bugs you observed and tie it to your leader.
5. Cast the imposter to unsuspecting fish and catch a bunch of them. You've now successfully "matched the hatch" - even though the fish are so innocent you would have caught them on anything.
Several years ago I had a blog dedicated to fishing that I really enjoyed. I like photography (not that I'm a good photographer) and I enjoyed trying to write an enjoyable story as well (not that I'm a good writer). Sometime in 2012, I just lost interest in writing it and let it fall by the wayside. I was just looking back through some of the posts and thought I would post one here. This is meant to be tongue in cheek - hopefully that comes across.
How to Properly Match the Hatch
1. Start by picking a destination. Try to pick a place that has some bugs and fish that like to eat them.
2. Take the time to look around and enjoy the outdoor experience.
3. Locate some emerging insects. In this case it's some kind of stonefly and an Epeorus pleuralis mayfly (Quill Gordon to the layperson).
4. Locate something in your fly box that's similar in size and color to one of the bugs you observed and tie it to your leader.
5. Cast the imposter to unsuspecting fish and catch a bunch of them. You've now successfully "matched the hatch" - even though the fish are so innocent you would have caught them on anything.
VAFisher
Masterpiece
Sometimes it's just not your day
Everything starts out well enough. Yesterday's greyness gives way to blue skies over the mountains as the sun burns through early morning clouds. I am on my way to a favorite trout stream that treated me very well last October. My mood brightens along with the day.
Arriving at the stream, I find that the water levels are perfect. Temperatures are just right for wet wading and hiking without breaking a sweat. This is going to be fun.
I fish an elk hair caddis with no action for a little while and then switch to a big stonefly nymph when I see empty shucks here and there on the rocks. I had been hoping for some dry fly action but it doesn't really matter because I'm about to slay 'em with nymphs.
I make my way farther and farther upstream and can't buy a look. I switch back to the dry. No dice. I try a different nymph. Nothing. I should be catching fish but I'm not. I grow impatient. In my haste to get to the next spot, I go too quickly and it happens. My foot comes down on a slimy rock so slick it feels as if it's covered with ice.
I go ass over teakettle in the middle of the creek. Laying on my back, wedged between two boulders, I utter some words that would not make my Mom proud of me. I have wacked my shin hard enough that it takes several minutes to stop hurting. I stand up and start to collect myself and realize that something is very wrong with my reel. Then I look at it.
The frame is bent so badly on my prized English made Hardy reel that the spool can't turn. I utter a few more words that are the foulest I can think of, but which I feel are entirely appropriate for the occasion. This does not make me feel any better. I remove the spool and pull enough line off to be able to make a reasonable cast, replace the spool and continue upstream. I still have caught no fish today.
I fish for another hour or so, but my heart is no longer in it. Defeated, I hit the trail and retreat down the mountain with no fish and a busted reel.
Along the road back to the parking lot I pass the flower bed fisherman and think that I would have been better off down here with him.
Sometimes it's just not your day. But there's always tomorrow.
Everything starts out well enough. Yesterday's greyness gives way to blue skies over the mountains as the sun burns through early morning clouds. I am on my way to a favorite trout stream that treated me very well last October. My mood brightens along with the day.
Arriving at the stream, I find that the water levels are perfect. Temperatures are just right for wet wading and hiking without breaking a sweat. This is going to be fun.
I fish an elk hair caddis with no action for a little while and then switch to a big stonefly nymph when I see empty shucks here and there on the rocks. I had been hoping for some dry fly action but it doesn't really matter because I'm about to slay 'em with nymphs.
I make my way farther and farther upstream and can't buy a look. I switch back to the dry. No dice. I try a different nymph. Nothing. I should be catching fish but I'm not. I grow impatient. In my haste to get to the next spot, I go too quickly and it happens. My foot comes down on a slimy rock so slick it feels as if it's covered with ice.
I go ass over teakettle in the middle of the creek. Laying on my back, wedged between two boulders, I utter some words that would not make my Mom proud of me. I have wacked my shin hard enough that it takes several minutes to stop hurting. I stand up and start to collect myself and realize that something is very wrong with my reel. Then I look at it.
The frame is bent so badly on my prized English made Hardy reel that the spool can't turn. I utter a few more words that are the foulest I can think of, but which I feel are entirely appropriate for the occasion. This does not make me feel any better. I remove the spool and pull enough line off to be able to make a reasonable cast, replace the spool and continue upstream. I still have caught no fish today.
I fish for another hour or so, but my heart is no longer in it. Defeated, I hit the trail and retreat down the mountain with no fish and a busted reel.
Along the road back to the parking lot I pass the flower bed fisherman and think that I would have been better off down here with him.
Sometimes it's just not your day. But there's always tomorrow.
VAFisher
Masterpiece
I was introduced to this little gem of a mountain stream last May by my good friend Marty and it has quickly become my favorite SNP fishing destination. It's the major tributary of a much more popular stream and although it sees its fair share of hikers, I have never encountered another angler while fishing here. If you look at this little creek on a map, you'll notice right away that it doesn't zig-zag or meander its way down the mountain. Instead, it rockets straight downhill in a series of cascades, waterfalls and plunge pools that make for ideal brook trout habitat and also one heck of a workout for the fisherman.
The forecast for the weekend was sunny skies with temps in the 50s, and I was planning on taking full advantage of the sweet weather. So on Saturday morning, I loaded up the truck with gear and pointed myself towards my new favorite SNP spot. Arriving at the parking lot on the lower Park bounday at 9:00am, I strung up my little 7' Granger Victory and hit the trail for the 1/2 mile hike to where the fishin' starts.
The day turned out to be pretty uneventful (especially in the fish catching department) with one exception. I had been fishing for maybe 5 minutes when, out of nowhere, a softball sized rock exploded into the middle of the pool I had been standing in, shattering the silence and sending me diving for cover. After I checked my waders for skid marks and looked around to make sure nobody was playing a joke on me, I glanced up and saw this whitetail deer doing its best impression of a mountain goat.
The deer was casually eating grass on the cliff face about 30' above me and seemed oblivious to the fact that it had just scared the crap out me, almost literally, by kicking a rock loose and sending it plummeting towards me below. I just stood there and watched for about 10 minutes, amazed at how this deer had managed to get itself into this position. Then I reflected on what would have happened had the rock landed a few feet to the left. Images of the old Road Runner cartoon flashed through my head.
All that was left to complete the scene was for this deer to go "meep meep" and take off at 100 miles per hour.
I eventually regained my wits, continued on and was rewarded at the next pool with this little beauty. I think it was a John Gierach quote where he said that brook trout are one of those rare things you sometimes see in nature that are just a lot prettier than they actually need to be. I couldn't agree more.
So I fished out the day and even though I managed only a few more brookies, I left with a sense of satisfaction. Solitude, beautiful scenery and wild trout are 3 reasons why I'll be back to my new favorite Park stream...even if the deer are trying to kill me.
The forecast for the weekend was sunny skies with temps in the 50s, and I was planning on taking full advantage of the sweet weather. So on Saturday morning, I loaded up the truck with gear and pointed myself towards my new favorite SNP spot. Arriving at the parking lot on the lower Park bounday at 9:00am, I strung up my little 7' Granger Victory and hit the trail for the 1/2 mile hike to where the fishin' starts.
The day turned out to be pretty uneventful (especially in the fish catching department) with one exception. I had been fishing for maybe 5 minutes when, out of nowhere, a softball sized rock exploded into the middle of the pool I had been standing in, shattering the silence and sending me diving for cover. After I checked my waders for skid marks and looked around to make sure nobody was playing a joke on me, I glanced up and saw this whitetail deer doing its best impression of a mountain goat.
The deer was casually eating grass on the cliff face about 30' above me and seemed oblivious to the fact that it had just scared the crap out me, almost literally, by kicking a rock loose and sending it plummeting towards me below. I just stood there and watched for about 10 minutes, amazed at how this deer had managed to get itself into this position. Then I reflected on what would have happened had the rock landed a few feet to the left. Images of the old Road Runner cartoon flashed through my head.
All that was left to complete the scene was for this deer to go "meep meep" and take off at 100 miles per hour.
I eventually regained my wits, continued on and was rewarded at the next pool with this little beauty. I think it was a John Gierach quote where he said that brook trout are one of those rare things you sometimes see in nature that are just a lot prettier than they actually need to be. I couldn't agree more.
So I fished out the day and even though I managed only a few more brookies, I left with a sense of satisfaction. Solitude, beautiful scenery and wild trout are 3 reasons why I'll be back to my new favorite Park stream...even if the deer are trying to kill me.
VAFisher
Masterpiece
Downtown Richmond wouldn't be the first place you would think of when it comes to good striper fishing. I caught wind of it a couple years ago and finally decided to check it out - turns out the rumors were right. Much like the shad, the stripers move out of the Chesapeake Bay and run up the James River, all the way to Richmond, to spawn. After they do the deed, they turn around and make their way back out, so you have to enjoy 'em while you can.
The striper hole leaves a lot to be desired from a scenery standpoint. Some of the nice features include trash laying around, snarls of fishing line with weights big enough to anchor a boat hanging from the trees, a smell that's something like a cross between my brother's feet and a dead sucker, and a lot of "urban art"(graffiti). As bad as it is, you get over all of that pretty quickly if the fish are there.
These fish have to rank as the best fighting fish I've ever tangled with on a fly rod. Even the small ones will put a serious bend in a pretty stout rod. They usually burn some line on an initial run and are good at using the current to their advantage. They're just a bunch of fun.
If the fishing slows down you can keep yourself busy sampling some of the local culture.
And watching the herons stalk little fish is kinda fun.
Then it's back to work.
Marty came down for a while this afternoon and did what he usually does - he caught the biggest fish. Sometimes that guy really bugs me.
But I pulled a rabbit out of the hat with a good fish right at dark. Not quite as good as Marty's fish, but I'll take it.
The striper hole leaves a lot to be desired from a scenery standpoint. Some of the nice features include trash laying around, snarls of fishing line with weights big enough to anchor a boat hanging from the trees, a smell that's something like a cross between my brother's feet and a dead sucker, and a lot of "urban art"(graffiti). As bad as it is, you get over all of that pretty quickly if the fish are there.
These fish have to rank as the best fighting fish I've ever tangled with on a fly rod. Even the small ones will put a serious bend in a pretty stout rod. They usually burn some line on an initial run and are good at using the current to their advantage. They're just a bunch of fun.
If the fishing slows down you can keep yourself busy sampling some of the local culture.
And watching the herons stalk little fish is kinda fun.
Then it's back to work.
Marty came down for a while this afternoon and did what he usually does - he caught the biggest fish. Sometimes that guy really bugs me.
But I pulled a rabbit out of the hat with a good fish right at dark. Not quite as good as Marty's fish, but I'll take it.
M. Frary
Bonsai Godzilla
I've found tat the nicest days weather wise are the worst days for fishing.
I like it cloudy,windy and with some rain every now and then.
I like it cloudy,windy and with some rain every now and then.
VAFisher
Masterpiece
Sometimes that's the case for sure. Windy isn't a lot of fun when you're fly fishing though. Unless you like the feeling of a hook stuck in your ear.
M. Frary
Bonsai Godzilla
Oh yeah. You guys got all that line going all over and back and forth.
Steve C
Omono
Yeah I planned to get together with Mike but had issues this trip. Will for sure soon though.
sorce
Nonsense Rascal
M. Frary
Bonsai Godzilla
I'm all for camaraderie and all but I think I draw the line at fishing naked.
You need waders.
sorce
Nonsense Rascal
M. Frary
Bonsai Godzilla
The river is kind of chilly.
Shrink age is real and embarassing.
Plus this a very busy river. Tubers and canoes along with drift boats and wading fly fishermen. Lots of scantily clad women.
And you don't want one of those toothy pike to think he is getting a chub for dinner. Your chub.
sorce
Nonsense Rascal
From the pictures and such, it seemed quite the opposite.
I hate busy!
Still want to come.
Sorce