Briefly Connected

Perhaps the best catalyst for a great fishing story is the one that got away. As often as I fish and perhaps due to my skill level, I have more stories of this nature than I care to remember. Some are truly memorable though. The brief connection to a large fish can be a magical moment, sometimes outshining any landed fish during a fishing trip. This year I've already had my share of memorable experiences.

One occurred while I was fishing the Smokies probably a month ago. It was near sunset and I was at a large hole trying for a big brown. I worked up to the pocket water at the very head of the pool when it happened. The definite flash of rainbow was not what I was expecting. The fish leaped at my Tellico almost before it hit the water and then was gone with a souvenir. Big rainbows are not that common in the Smokies with a 12 incher considered a nice fish. Fish of 14-16 inches are large and this was larger, probably 18 inches and extremely fat. I haven't gone back yet but I'm confident that it will still be there next time. Fish don't get that big unless they are smart.

The next moment of connection was last Sunday. I was on my way to Nashville for the week and stopped at the Caney Fork to fish for an hour or so. The water was picking up speed as the generation pulse approached. As always, I just had to try a few more casts. A nice cast placed my fly on the far side of the channel where I knew good fish liked to feed. The dry I was using as an indicator suddenly sucked under and I gently lifted the rod. There was an eruption from the place my fly had vanished as a big rainbow took to the sky. Three jumps and a couple of short runs later I was beginning to think I would land the fish. Of course the fish had other ideas and decided to head downriver. The determined run seemingly could not be checked and then the line went limp. Dejectedly I checked my flies. The zebra midge dropper was still there, the fish had simply thrown my fly.

I'll never forget that fish though. Leaping into the sky the fish was spectacular and actually, I like to remember it that way...

More From Oklahoma

Oklahoma can get pretty interesting once the sun goes down. For starters, the sunsets can be spectacular. We didn't get to witness any particularly interesting ones but they were quite nice still.

As the darkness deepens over the landscape, the creepy crawly critters come out to play. I've always been intrigued by snakes despite a rather healthy respect for them. This has led to the enjoyment of slowly driving back roads at night after the sun has gone down looking for new and interesting snakes to photograph. My goal is generally to find a rattlesnake but usually the best I can come up with is a copperhead. This night was no different from the norm except that the copperhead I found had a serious attitude problem. The little guy wanted to chase me around. After getting back in the car and letting the snake cool down a bit, I cautiously got out again and this time it stayed still for some decent pictures.

Getting chased around the dark Oklahoma countryside is tiring business and shortly thereafter I retired for the night. The next day would bring slower fishing but I did manage the best bass of the trip, albeit not very large.

A stroll down a country road allowed me to check on the local bovines. They all seemed to be doing rather well but were very curious. I decided maybe they just wanted their pictures taken and obliged with a few shots.

I'm always glad when the cows are behind a good solid fence. There were a few frightening experiences I had earlier in life involving free-ranging cattle hanging out on roads I was travelling. The funniest was when I was headed south back to Arizona from Moab, Utah. I was rolling through the Navajo reservation when suddenly, ghostly colored forms appeared to be floating all around me. Probably the sheep and cows were more frightened than I was but you probably won't be able to actually convince me of the fact. Whatever the case, ever since I've believed that the place for such creatures is behind a fence, or at least, not wandering the highways in search of some poor traveler to terrorize.

Scheduled for the fourth day of the vacation was a trip to the Tallgrass Prairie Preserve near Pawhuska. Normally we slowly drive the roads through the preserve, viewing plenty of bison in addition to the wide array of local birds. This particular day the bison were not cooperative. The nearest we came was probably a solid half a mile away. The scenery was still nice though and well worth our time.

I decided ahead of time that the last day would be dedicated to the long rod. By mid afternoon I finally got away down to the creek and started fishing. Right away I had a nice fish on the popper but then things slowed down. Finally I settled on the popper with a simi seal leech dropper and this seemed to be the best solution. The gar never did come around much so I didn't really get any good shots at it. The panfish were more than cooperative though and made the afternoon enjoyable.

As always, it was a great trip to Oklahoma. Hopefully I'll be able to return again in the not too distant future. I'm usually doing pretty good if I can make it out there every couple of years so we'll see. In the meantime, I'll be trying to figure out what exactly gar eat and how you go about catching them...

Back in Tennessee

After a nice few days in Oklahoma visiting relatives, fishing, and being lazy, I'm finally back in Tennessee. I spent parts of several days fishing in the creek and had a good time catching plenty of panfish and a few small bass. Unfortunately, the gar never cooperated and neither did the carp I spotted during the last afternoon of fishing. The last day was strictly dedicated to fly fishing which I felt would provide the best opportunity to catch the gar. Of course, the fish would have to choose to not show up the last day until just before quittin' time. A few fruitless casts later, the gar vanished for good. Oh well, there is always next time.

Anyway, enough rambling. I took lots of pictures over the last few days and thought I would share a few, some of the fishing and of course, other random pictures. On the way out, we took the "Missouri" route which takes us across the southern portion of the state. We crossed the Ohio and Mississippi rivers and noted that shipping is alive and well on both rivers.



The trip out was uneventful and we were glad to arrive at our destination in the Bartlesville vicinity. Our first full day there was absolutely gorgeous and a prime example of why the plains states are so nice to visit this time of year. Late spring in Oklahoma brings some of the most vivid colors to be found anywhere with the greens of the prairie stretching away for miles.

The oil business seemed to be doing just fine, a fact I'm sure President Bush and Vice President Cheney are far too happy about.

One of the sure signs of the season, a young warbler of some sort was seen leaving the nest and held still long enough for this closeup.

A few hours later the whole family had disappeared into the brush, the only clue of their presence the chirping of the young ones.

Of course, I know everyone is probably here to read about fishing. As mentioned in a previous post, the first day or two was relatively unproductive but then things picked up nicely. The first day of fishing was strictly with a spinning rod as the creek was still awfully muddy and the small spinnerbaits did a much better job at drawing fish then any of my flies and popping bugs.

As soon as I started fishing the small spinner, I was into fish like this one. A few were smaller and a few larger but most were around this size. They provided a lot of fun and were a whole lot easier to catch than trout, not a type of fishing I do every day but a good time regardless. That finishes the first couple of days of the trip. There are lots more pictures to come including of the small stream bass I managed to fool and the copperhead I found on a lonely country road one evening. Check back soon!!!

The Trout Zone in Oklahoma

Due to the ultra slow dial-up I'm using, my posts are being made without pictures for the time being. This means I will attempt to whet your appetite for the pictures to follow in a few days because I'm not going to sit here long enough to upload them. I'm on vacation afterall... Between snake hunting and fishing, I've managed to keep relatively busy.

The creek out back was up and muddy the first couple of days I was here, limiting the fishing potential. Finally I took my spinning rod (gasp, no the Trout Zone doesn't follow purist philosophy) down with a small spinner and caught several various sunfish and a small bass. Wandering down the creek I spotted what appeared to be a gar or pickerel. Having never caught either, I spent some time trying to get it to strike but went unrewarded. Today I went fishing again, catching a better bass (at least for the size of the creek) and getting the long nosed toothy fish from the previous day to give chase to my spinnerbait. Once again I failed to connect leaving me to spend this evening pondering just how to catch it. Its got to be the fly rod I've decided. The few times I saw the fish appearing to feed, it seemed to be on the surface. Tomorrow I will go down to the creek again to give battle to the toothy monster, assuming I don't run into any dangerous critters on the way.

Speaking of dangerous critters, not wishing to fish at night with all manner of frightening animals lurking about, a recent evening was spent hunting snakes. How is that safer than the creek? At least I KNOW where the dangerous animals are at. I spent awhile driving the backroads looking for any interesting snakes to photograph, hoping to find a rattler. Instead I was rewarded with just another copperhead. I've seen quite enough of those in my life and really don't care to see another, especially after last night. The crazy thing was grouchy and decided to chase me. Usually they keep calm while the bright lights from the car shine on them, allowing me to get close enough for a good picture. I've photographed both copperheads and rattlesnakes this way. This copperhead had other ideas though and promptly chased me back to the car. A few minutes were spent donning my headlamp in preparation of round two. After attempting in vain to get a decent photo from the window, I gingerly stepped back onto the road towards the snake. This time it held relatively still for a series of pictures which will be showcased here in a few days. Life on vacation isn't dull at least!

If a new species is landed on the fly rod tomorrow, I'll have a fresh report up and ready...keep your fingers crossed for me...

Book Review: "So Many Fish, So Little Time"

Despite the fact that this review is much later than I intended, I still want to share about this book. As much as I have really enjoyed this book, I believe it has one weakness in particular. Books of the top whatever (insert a number here) fishing places are very difficult to perfect. In fact, I don't know if it is possible to make one perfect. It is simply the nature of the beast. Thankfully, Mark D. Williams has done the best job I have seen with a tough topic, probably the best possible for that matter. I would like to see someone try to do better, I don't think they can. Other than the inherent difficulty in writing on the subject of the 1001 best fishing places around the world, this book is the type to set dreams in motion. A paragraph from the Introduction sums it up much better than I could:

I was determined to write a book of fishing dreams. A book of dreams, a wish list of all the best places in the world to fish. This is a sit-on-the-pot kind of book, the type of book that sometimes inspires you to get off your duff and make plans, the type of book that is fun to pick up, knowing full well you can't afford to visit New Zealand until little Bobby finishes college in ten years, but you still read it and wish.

A sit-on-the-pot kind of book is a good way to describe this book. You can spend just a few moments with it and start yet another fishing daydream rolling. As I read, I often encountered sections that provided an opportunity for remembrance. Remembering all the great fishing places I've been fortunate enough to go to throughout the years. Places in Arizona, Colorado, Wyoming, to mention a few and of course my own home state of Tennessee.

It was in the section on Tennessee that I realized better some of the difficulties of writing such a book. The author describes a river I frequent in the cooler seasons, the Hiwassee. The difficulty I specifically am referring to is apparent when the author says that it is "one of the top twenty trout streams in the country." Obviously the author hasn't fished the Hiwassee for several years. Back in its heyday the statement would have been accurate, but not now. Don't get me wrong...it still fishes very well but nothing like the good old days. The author also says "humongous trout and plenty of them." Once again, there are still large trout but nothing like years ago. This is the big difficulty of writing a book like this. You can't possibly fish 1001 places in the last couple of years and great fisheries fluctuate. Places that were great 5 or 10 years ago may only be average fisheries now.

Of course, this isn't the authors fault fully, he is writing based largely on his experience. When you check out this book, keep this in mind. Enjoy the book, especially enjoy the stories, and dream. If you do this, especially if you dream, the author will have accomplished his goal. He wrote this book to inspire fishing trips and dreams of fishing trips.

As I said, the stories are great. The author is definitely a gifted story teller even though many stories have to be kept very concise for space concerns. From a new fishing buddy that pulls out a gun to randomly shoot towards the pronghorn antelope to an epic day on the Yellowstone, the stories will keep you reading looking for more. One of my favorite stories I could relate to very well. The author hooked a large fish on the Taylor only to lose it. My first day on this stream full of hogs was slow until I hooked a large rainbow in the 7-8 pound range. I started hollering for my buddies to bring a camera and drew a crowd of spectators with the commotion. After several tense moments I gently eased the trout towards my net only to have to tiny zebra midge pop out as the large 'bow slipped back to its midstream lair. Yeah, I understand the frustration that the Taylor generates at first. However, once you understand it the fishing can be a blast.

That is the way this book is. You read a little and immediately start reminiscing or daydreaming. I honestly couldn't put it down for awhile after I received this book and will continue to read and re-read any time I want to dream about great fishing places.

Oh yeah, he also mentioned my favorite (for now) stream ever. And no, I'm not going to tell you what stream that is, not even the state it is in so don't ask. If you pick up this book and start trying all the trout (okay, so that IS a hint) streams, maybe you'll discover it for yourself. If you do, please keep it under your hat. I want to find it as free of crowds as I left it...

A Caney Outing and Vacation

The first of at least two summer trips for me has finally rolled around. Tomorrow I depart for Oklahoma and while I won't be sampling its trout waters this trip, I will be spending an inordinately large amount of time down at a small creek casting for whatever is out swimming.

Since it will be a while before I get close enough to a trout to be dangerous, a stop at the Caney Fork River seemed in order today. I was passing through on my way home from Nashville and stopped to fish for about 3 hours. Enough fish were fooled to keep things interesting but the severe headache I got kept me from doing too much damage. Word of advice for the day, stay hydrated if you want to catch lots of fish. If you don't, your reflexes will suffer... Several large fish were spotted throughout the afternoon and I got a few to eat but my feeble attempts at setting the hook (this was later in the day once the headache had developed) only worked on one of the better fish, and this was nowhere near the largest. Despite my troubles, I had a nice outing and then went home to sleep off the migraine.


Another recent stop at the river was good for this nice brown.

As you can see, the fish are healthy and quite colorful. As long as a catastrophe doesn't occur, this fall should bring excellent fishing with lots of good-sized fish. With this river it can be tough with the late summer and fall dissolved oxygen posing a problem. We can only hope...

I'll hopefully be bringing reports on my warmwater exploits in Oklahoma within a few days so stay tuned for details...

Road To Nowhere Put Down

Finally, after years of debate, it appears that the Road to Nowhere on the Southern edge of the Great Smoky Mountains might finally get the axe for good. From the Tennessean we learn of this great news. Apparently,

After 64 years of debate, the National Park Service says the best option for what's been dubbed "the road to nowhere" in the Smokies is not to build it.

We are encouraged with the news that perhaps politicians are finally making a good decision for the environment. The environmental impact study from the park service determined that the preferred option in the case of the Road was to not build it. Swain County North Carolina will receive a monetary settlement in place of the road. Interestingly, the road WAS promised to the people of this area years ago when TVA built a dam and not everyone appreciates the idea of a settlement. In light of this revelation, is the decision the best one? I think so, but I am admittedly biased. At least I will be able to fish Forney, Hazel, Eagle, and all the other creeks without hundreds of tourists watching. The last thing we need in a wilderness area of a National Park is another road. Of course, as we all know, the issue isn't dead until it is dead so keep your fingers crossed...

Protection for Rio Grande Cutts?

A few years ago (2002), the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service denied protection to the Rio Grande Cutthroat. This decision was apparently contrary to the language contained in the Endangered Species Act.

Under the Endangered Species Act, an endangered species is defined as any species that is at risk of extinction in "all or a significant portion of range."

From the Environmental News Network, we read that the Rio Grande Cutts may get another chance.

In response to a lawsuit brought by the Center for Biological Diversity, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service announced it will again consider the Rio Grande cutthroat trout for protection as an endangered species under the Endangered Species Act.

This is great news especially for trout fisherman. I've always dreamed of a trip to southern Colorado or northern New Mexico to catch this special fish. Unfortunately, it seems that politics have stood in the way of recovery for this unique Cutthroat trout. One of the more interesting statistics?

To date, the Bush administration has protected just 57 species - the fewest for any six-year period since the inception of the Endangered Species Act. There were 512 species protected under President Clinton and 234 protected during George H. W. Bush's presidency. During the last six years of the Clinton administration, just 13 percent of decisions denied protection to species, compared to 52 percent during the six years of the current Bush administration.

Okay, so that was more than one statistic but disturbing nonetheless... Maybe the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service will make the right decision and preserve this fish for generations to come.

St. Croix Comes Through

My St. Croix Legend Ultras have long been my go-to rods. The stories of their great customer service gave me some peace of mind in case I ever broke one. Of course, it wasn't so much a case of if as of when. Anyone that has owned many rods has eventually had one break. Mine broke right at the very tip. Thankfully, I was stopping by Little River Outfitters the next day and they sent my rod in to St. Croix for me and the waiting game began. I was looking for the rod to probably be back in two weeks or so. Instead, it was only a week and a half!!! St. Croix makes a very nice product and their customer service is second to none in my experience. Did I mention I love the Legend Ultras...

Epic Day

This week started just as most weeks do during the summer with me going to work on Monday to make some $$$ to pay for school next fall. However, I had two days off, Thursday and Friday. I planned to make the most of my time by making another trip to the Smokies. Most likely I won't be able to go again for awhile so I wanted to do something slightly out of the ordinary. A backpacking trip fit that bill well but I got lazy and decided to just car camp at Elkmont instead.

Thursday found me at Elkmont campground setting up camp in the afternoon and then off for the evening hatch. Despite casting over numerous risers and hooking up several times, I only managed a couple of fish. During a stop at a nice hole that I hit for large fish, I lost my last large Tellico to a big rainbow that snapped the 6x like a twig as the fly hit the water. It would have probably gone an easy 16 inches and perhaps 18. "At least it can't get much worse in the catching department" I muttered to myself. Surely the next day would yield different results, it just had to.

A great nights rest in the woods found me completely refreshed the next morning. I woke up and finally crawled out of my sleeping bag, then put together a quick fire to ward off the morning chill and sat enjoying the cool mountain air. Easy enjoyment when you have a nice hot fire. As I sat there, something clicked. Today was going to be like no other. Each year I have some good days and some great days. This would be one for the ages. I tied a few Tellicos in case I would need them but I was hoping the fish would hit dries.

After a quick breakfast and packing up the camp, I wandered over to the Little River Trailhead and started hiking. Just a short distance into my hike, something else clicked. I would see a bear for the first time while out hiking and fishing. I've seen plenty from the car but none while out fishing and hiking before. This was a strange revelation because there was really nothing to make me think this, yet the thought persisted and was so strong that I really just had no other option than to believe. With this in mind I kept hustling up the trail at my usual fast pace. I passed many fisherman on my way and was doubly thankful that my plans involved a good hike.

After hiking for about an hour and 15 minutes, I finally was in the vicinity of where I wanted to fish. I slowed down and watched for a good place to get in the stream. An opening in the solid thicket between me and the creek finally showed itself and I quickly scrambled down to the stream. I sat down on a rock to look around and make my first fly selection. A yellow stonefly buzzed by about that time so I pulled out an imitation. As I was tying it on, I eyed the little pool just below me. There it was, the obvious rise of a fish taking something on or very near the surface. I slowly moved down and made the short cast with only a couple feet of line out. The very first cast rewarded me with a chunky little rainbow. Slight nervousness set in as I snapped a picture of the first fish of the day. A fish on the first cast is NEVER a good sign. But then I remembered. I KNEW I was going to have a good day. I made another four casts before the next fish hit, just on the other side of the little pool beneath the other main current tongue. Relaxing, I allowed myself to take in the moment and just enjoy the day.

I kept working up the stream and surprisingly caught a brook trout before any browns. "Just one more fish for the slam" I thought. Then it was rainbows again for awhile, constantly falling to the dry with reckless abandon. Finally, at fish number twenty I saw the buttery brown flash I had been watching for. After a quick picture for documentation, the fish slid back into the current and was gone.

Moving quickly, I covered a lot of water before I decided to take a break for snacks. It was great to take off the small hydration pack and relax beside the stream for a few minutes. The brilliant green hues of spring merged with the foaming white water above the small plunge pool to paint a perfect picture. A few minutes were spent trying to recreate the scene with my digital camera but in the end, I knew you just can't reproduce a picture like that. While I was eating, I noticed some bugs starting to hatch a bit more consistently.

If the fish had been looking up before then, they were doing so even more now. Once again I started moving quickly up the stream. A couple of casts here and three there and it was time to move on again. I didn't want to miss out on this golden opportunity of perfectly stupid trout. And the number of fish just kept rising, 30, 40, 50. Somewhere in the forties I surpassed my best fishing day in the Smokies and with my 56th fish it was officially my best day ever personally. I don't know why but for some reason I kept fishing. I've had other days where the pace of catching was just as good but I quit fishing after catching 40+ fish or moved elsewhere to seek a greater challenge. Today, I just enjoyed the moment. At one point I jokingly wondered to myself if I was going to get to 70. When fish number 60 came to hand it became a legitimate possibility. Finally, as I was approaching the point where I would get out and hike back, number 70 hit and came to hand.

I couldn't believe it. My best day of catching (notice I didn't say fishing, its not all about the catching always...) was finally done, or so I thought. In the end, the fishing part was done and in the excitement, I forgot that I was going to see a bear. Or maybe I was just hoping it was a silly thought. Regardless, when I rounded a bend shortly into the hike back, I was still surprised to actually see the large bear wandering around in the trail. IN THE MIDDLE OF THE TRAIL... "What now" I wondered. I had to get back to my car and I was exhausted. Seventy fish in 6 hours is hard work on anybody and I still had to make the two hour drive home. I thought for a couple of minutes and remembered that you should make noise so the bears know you are around. He was still around 200 feet off so I started whistling and then slowly waved my arms so he could see me. Bears have poor eyesight so I bent down to pick up a couple of rocks to toss in his direction. When I stooped over, he realized how big I was and took off up the hill. Glancing nervously at the spot where he had evaporated into thin air, I hurried on past and back towards my car. As the last bit of daylight was leaving, I made it back to my car.

I still can't believe everything that happened yesterday. Some of it is just too crazy. Even the 70 fish and especially the bear, the part where I knew I was going to see one. That's the way the mountains are though. They always provide great moments. You can just count on it. That is probably why I keep going back. The fishing is a great excuse though and next time I get a chance, you'll find me hustling up a trail away from the crowds to find the pristine wilderness experience I left up there somewhere.