Thursday, December 29, 2011

12/27/2011 Niangua River "Pumpkin Pie and PBR"

Mentioning those two words in the same sentence undoubtedly says something about a person , and I'm pretty sure my wife wouldn't approve of whatever it is that it says. Oh well , I've always said if the shoe fits......
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After too damn long with no chance to get my boots wet I finally got the opportunity to hit the water on Tuesday. I really should have stayed home and taken down the Christmas tree , maybe even gotten crazy and take down the Christmas lights before Easter this year. I was seriously contemplating the idea , but my wonderful wife convinced me that I really should get away on my last day off and enjoy myself. Not only did she get me that new pair of waders I so desperately needed for Christmas , she then proceeded to insist that I go use them , someone must be living right.
With only one day to play I decided to hit my nearest trout stream ,the Niangua , which still requires a three hour plus oneway roadtrip. Nothing out of the ordinary for me , six hours of driving for the reward of six or seven hours on the water seems a fair trade. Joe and I got a little bit of a late start , getting on the road about 5:30 , residual effects of the Tryptophan from copious amounts of turkey caused me to hit the snooze button a few more times than planned. After an uneventful drive which included musical appearances by Metallica , the Dead and a Zack Mathews podcast with the guy who developed Clear Cure Goo , we pulled into the public river access just a little past eight-thirty.
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With rods already rigged I quickly grabbed my gear and we headed down to the water. The river was still up a little and slightly stained from the previous weeks rain event , I couldn't have asked for better water conditions.
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There were a couple of other cars in the lot, which wasn't a surprise considering it was the week between Christmas and New Years. Lots of water to choose from and Joe and I had no problem finding a section of river to ourselves.
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I wasn't sure what the fish wanted to eat today but I had my mind set on throwing sculpin patterns so that's just what I did. I used a two fly setup with a size 12 red fox squirrel nymph trailed by a size 6 olive colored mink sculpin pattern. It worked just well enough to keep me from changing all day long. We fished a few different areas with mixed results , some spots yielding a fish or two and others giving up nothing. Numbers were pretty average for this white ribbon river but the size of the fish was definitely smaller than in previous trips.
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The fish were all cookie cutter bows that wouldn't have had any problems fitting in a twelve inch frying pan if one so desired( which I would guess happens more often than not judging from the metal stringers dangling from most the other fishermen I saw). On this river you always look forward to those holdover fish that have managed to escape the bucket brigade since the last stocking , on this trip I just couldn't find one. By no means am I complaining as I was thrilled just to be out on the river on such a beautiful winter day. Catching fish ,of any size, was just an added bonus. Joe and I enjoyed ourselves and didn't take the fishing too seriously , kicking back and just enjoying being out on the river several times throughout the morning and afternoon.
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Just before noon we decided to head downriver and try a different spot to finish out the day. It was a toss up between Barclay and NRO but I figured on less company at NRO so that's where we ended up.
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My intuition was right for once and we had the whole place to ourselves. The constant growling noise coming from my stomach told me it was time for a quick lunch so I set up the cookstove and warmed up some homemade chili.
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Spicy chili washed down with a cold PBR and a slice of pumpin pie for dessert (thus the title of the post) , now that's what I call a streamside lunch! It was all I could do to get myself out of the camp chair after eating. Sitting there along the river with the sun hitting me in the face and my best friend laying by my side , it was a temptation to just close my eyes and take a little nap.
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Very tempting, but time was short and it'd been too long since I'd had the opportunity to actually fish so I sucked it up and got back to the task at hand. Normally this section of river is pretty good to me but today she was a little finicky. We fished several of my favorite holes and only managed a handful of fish between them , they were all small bows just like earlier in the day.
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The slightly cool morning had transformed into a gorgeous afternoon with temperatures pushing fifty degrees which more than made up for the less than stellar fishing. We watched several floaters making their way downstream throughout the afternoon and after talking to a couple of them it seemed that my fishing success was pretty average for this day.
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A few of them told of bigger fish than I had managed but it seemed that small bows were the rule of the day.
A quick glance at the time revealed that it was approaching 3:30 , a good stopping point (I know...is there ever really a good stopping point when you're fishing??) to allow time for packing up and still be able to make it home at a decent hour. Tomorrow I'd be back at work dealing with the same old shit I was complaining about before I left for Christmas but for now I felt blessed to be where I was , doing something that I truly love and spending time with the best of friends. Here's to that next trip , whenever or wherever it may be......
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Friday, December 23, 2011

"Merry Christmas"

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First off, I'd like to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and a New Year that brings good health , happiness and more days on the water than you have time to write about.
With a new project at work and the bustle of the holiday season I've been hard pressed to find time for a day on the water or even an evening at the old tying bench here lately. I'm sure this is quite evident to anyone who follows my blog by the lack of posts in December. I'm hoping to turn that around after the first of the year , with a couple of trips already tentatively planned for January if the weather holds out. For now though, I'll just have to keep satiating that urge to get on the water by continuing to read your blogs and living vicariously through others.
As 2011 winds down I'm looking forward to another year filled with good friends , good food , good fishing and the opportunity to share those special times on the water with all of you out there in the blogging world who I've come to consider my friends. Thanks to everyone who stops in and comments on my senseless ramblings here at HighPlainsFlyFisher , it's made this blog much more enjoyable for me than I ever imagined. Until next time.......

Thursday, December 1, 2011

11/28 - 11/29 Taneycomo / Crane Creek... "Thanksgiving Leftovers"

With the onset of colder weather recently I'd been needing to get down to the lake and take care of some last minute winterization on the boat that I'd been putting off for one reason or another. The upside of the trip was that I'd be able to work a little fishing in if all went well and I didn't have any issues with the boat work. While I was blessed to have a wonderful Thanksgiving meal with my family on Thursday evening , I was feeling a little left out of the whole holiday weekend thing , working 12 hour shifts all weekend while you're friends are spending time with family or out playing on the water tends to have that effect on a guy. Luckily for me, a few hours with a flyrod in my hand is usually all it takes to re-balance the work / life equilibrium and set things right in my world , I'm easy that way.
I awoke Monday morning to overcast skies and a temperature of 23 degrees outside , great fishing weather but not so much for winterizing the water systems on a boat , nevertheless it had to be done and on the bright side I was gonna get at least a little fishing in one way or another. After throwing a few tools and some fishing gear in the truck Joe and I hit the road.
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The four hour trip went by fairly quick , thanks in part to several Itinerant Angler podcasts that I'd downloaded ahead of time for my listening pleasure. Of course after listening to people talk about fishing for three hours I had to force myself to make the turn down towards the boat slip and not head straight below the dam for a full afternoon of fishing. Thankfully everything went pretty smooth and I was finishing up on the boat shortly after 2:00 o'clock , with a couple of hours left to wet a line. I hadn't checked generation schedules, as I was making the trip more for work than fishing anyway , but hoped for low water and some wading. As is usually the case my wishes were totally disregarded and the SWPA decided to run three units all day long ,limiting my fishing options to mostly shoreline areas. Luckily I found one of my favorite spots devoid of people and rigged up and hit the water.
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Right off I noticed a good number of midging fish in the shallow riffles I intended to fish. Normally this would be a good thing , but on this day it proved to be an effort in futility! Here's a brief description of how the next hour went...started off with a zebra midge under a palsa , changed colors of zebra midge , switch to CDC midge under a palsa , swing CDC midge with no indicator , switch to griffith's gnat , downsize to a smaller griffith's gnat , switch to parachute midge dry and finally tie back on the same black/silver zebra midge I started off with. And yes , I managed a few casts in between all that somehow. I don't mean to imply that I didn't catch any fish , because I did , but when at any one time there are twenty little trout mouths visible in the surface film and you're only getting bit every 10 minutes it can get a little frustrating. I think I caught a fish , sometimes two, on just about everything I tried (except the parachute pattern) but couldn't for the life of me find the right fly that the fish would eat readily. After a while it almost felt as if the fish were just feeling sorry for me and my inability to come up with the proper pattern. I'm pretty sure they took turns drawing straws to see which one would take their turn at eating the poor example of a midge I was trying to present with each new cast. Oh well , not the first time I've been outwitted by a fish with a brain the size of a pea and I have no doubt that it won't be the last.
A guy can only endure so much humiliation, so with an hour and a half of daylight still left I decided to cut my losses and save what was left of my sanity and head for greener pastures (or so I hoped). I'd really wanted to check in on a couple of small tribs that run into Taneycomo and can sometimes have pretty good numbers of rainbows in them this time of year. We hopped back in the truck and headed over to one of my favorites, Turkey Creek. This watershed isn't the most scenic by any means but it often fishes pretty well and you can have it to yourself if you luck out. The water looked good and the first hole I came to held several stocker bows.
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I tied on a grey scud pattern trailed by an olive/brown g-bug and proceeded to get my karma back in working order by catching three of the six fish that I could see in the run. Working my way upstream I continued catching a couple fish out of every hole , nothing but stocker sized bows, but after my run-in with the ultra finicky midgers earlier in the afternoon I wasn't gonna complain. I released my final fish just as the last little bit of light was disappearing over the hills to the West.
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After the drive down , working on the boat and then cramming some last minute fishing in I was pretty wore out and ready for some dinner. When I got back to the truck , Joe was waiting anxiously and stuck his head partway out the window to greet me. Normally I wouldn't think of leaving him in the truck while I was out fishing , but considering our close sleeping quarters for the night I decided to keep him out of the water for the couple of hours I had to fish (if you've ever spent the night sleeping beside a wet dog , you know where I'm coming from!). He didn't seem to mind at all , a little ear rubbing and a bowl full of kibble and everything was right in his world as well as mine.
Feeling too lazy to cook anything I made a beeline over to my favorite little BBQ joint in Branson , Danna's. I got my usual, the best catfish in a four state area, bar-none.
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It was a short drive back down to the boat where Joe and I spent the remainder of the evening just kicking back , I played around with some flyboxes and watched a fishing video I'd brought ,while Joe just crawled into bed and crashed after his long day.
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Tuesday we woke to a cold sunrise , the clouds were gone but the brisk wind cut right to the bone.
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Anxious to get back on the water I loaded up the truck and we hit the road. I made a quick call to see what the water situation was like below the dam and wasn't surprised to hear that the same three generators were still online this morning. I can't ever seem to catch a break with generation which is why I've practically given up on this tailwater recently. No big deal , I just pointed the truck in the opposite direction and we headed for Crane Creek to finish up the trip.
Fourty five minutes later we were pulling into the Crane city park. The wind was still whipping pretty good and I decided it was time to dig out the cold weather gear for the first time this year.
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I geared up quickly , not much needed for this kind of fishing , my small stream box and a spool of tippet was all I needed to carry for this creek.
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Joe was anxious as always to start with the running and sniffing and rolling and everything else that goes along with being a happy dog so we took off downstream. We took our time , enjoying the sights and sounds as we made our way along. I really wasn't in any rush , being a Tuesday I didn't expect to have any company on the water today anyway.
My first cast sent several small trout skittering in all directions and I failed to get a bite out of that pool. Moving upstream I caught two small wild bows out of the next hole and again saw many others darting around. These fish are always skittish but I just had a feeling that they'd been hammered over the holiday weekend and were still recovering from the pressure. One more small fish fell to my AP Black and then I saw something that I hadn't really put any thought to. From a high bank I watched a beautiful female bow , probably close to 18" , being circled by a couple of smaller fish. They continued this for several minutes while we just watched from above unnoticed. As I looked around the bottom of the pool I saw what I thought could very well be a redd created by the fish I had just watched and I thought how amazing it was that these fish could survive all of the hardships of this little stream and still carry out the spawning process. Obviously I didn't fish for that big female , as a matter of fact the fly didn't leave the hookkeeper for the rest of the day. I don't know that my fishing would of had any effect at all on what was starting to happen but for me it just felt like the right decision at the time. I probably saw more big fish than I ever have while Joe and I walked the high streambanks just enjoying the beautiful morning.
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It was a spectacular Ozark day and just being streamside with my best friend was enough to make the day a success , even without fishing. Once back at the truck I decided to head upstream to eat some lunch and then just hike that section of creek as I hadn't seen it since this time last year. A short drive and we were pulling into the Upper Wire Road access. Lunch was a huge turkey and stuffing sandwich thrown together from the turkey day festivities and some cheese and crackers.
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Joe and I sat there and shared a Thanksgiving feast made up of leftovers and somehow it seemed rather fitting. Not only was I eating the last of Thanksgiving leftovers but I kind of felt as though I'd been fishing for Thanksgiving leftovers , getting my shot at what was left after a long holiday weekend.
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After lunch Joe and I packed a snack and hit the trail , this is a beautiful area and we enjoyed just walking along taking it all in.
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The first object of interest that we came to was a very large beaver dam backing up the small stream.
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The deep pool above the dam was very muddy and it was obvious that the culprits had been working on their masterpiece very recently. These beavers did one hell of a job , I've seen COE dams that let more water seep through.
We hiked along the stream until we came to the point where it just vanishes into the bedrock , not enough water to continue on it's way winding through the hills.
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This was the end of the road for us and we stopped and ate our snack then headed back towards the truck. By the time we got back it was approaching 2:30 ,leaving us just enough time to load up and make it back home in time for dinner. I'm not sure how Joe felt , but I could only hope that we were through with the leftovers.
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**Not long ago I posted a comment on another bloggers post saying how most of the time it was the sights , sounds and smells of a day on the water that we remember most , not the fishing itself. While fish were caught this trip , that statement rings true in this instance for sure. If anything it's the fish I didn't catch that I remember most! That being said , you won't find any fish porn in this post for that reason. And yes , that's also another way of saying that I didn't catch any truly photo worthy fish!!

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

Bugs from the Bench..." Henrys Fork Caddis"

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With the Thanksgiving Holiday right around the corner my presence was required at home and the flyrods sat forlornly in the corner all weekend. Instead I spent my time getting some small projects done around the house and then my wife and I began preparing for the family to arrive for the big meal on Thursday. Decorations were drug out of the basement and placed around the house and I even completed the always entertaining task of getting the Christmas lights hung. As part of all this I was instructed by the wife to clean up my fly tying desk and make my room presentable so I took advantage of it and did a little organizing that had needed to be done for quite some time. It's amazing to me the amount of materials a fly tyer can accumulate over the years and even more incredible how hard it is to keep it all somewhat organized so you can find it when you need it. Of course I tied some flies off and on as I usually do when I'm stuck at home. I re-stocked the GRHE's and PTN's , both simple ties that never fail to catch fish , and then tied up something new using some materials that I dug up while cleaning.
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It's a caddis pattern using Henry's Fork Hackle for the collar , thus the name. Not sure how durable the CDC will be but it looks good in the vise so I'll give it a shot next time I get out. It was an easy fly to tie and should work well in most of the Ozark streams I spend my time fishing. Following is the recipe for anyone interested in adding a couple to their own arsenal :

Hook...Daiichi 1250 Caddis Hook / Upturned Eye
Thread...Black 6/0
Body...Insect Green Ice Dub in a Dubbing Loop
Back Carapice...Pheasant Tail Fibers
Rib...Copper Wire
Collar...Henrys Fork Hackle (Natural Color) Palmered

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Tuesday, November 15, 2011

11/14 - Clinton Lake "Thirty Minutes of a Fine Fall Day"

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Thirty minutes of a blustery ,overcast fall afternoon. On this day that'd be all the time I had to cure the ache that had gnawed at me for the last week. With my wife on vacation this week we had decided to head over to Clinton State Park and take advantage of the nice weather by hiking a couple of our favorite trails. Somehow I had managed to sneak the flyrod and a box of flies under the seat of the truck unnoticed, so the plan was set in motion from the beginning. I'd heard a report or two of some wipers being caught on windy points of the lake and with the conditions the way they were today I hoped to take advantage of the situation if given the opportunity. We spent several hours hiking through the park and seeing as it was a Monday we had the place pretty much to ourselves. As always, our fearless trail guide Joe led the way into the unknown.
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I couldn't think of a better way to spend the afternoon...well , maybe one. As we began our trip back home I decided to drive across the dam and look things over ,still in hopes of pulling that rod out from under the backseat. When I saw a couple groups of gulls working the open water on the windy side of the lake I knew I had to give it a shot.
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After a little convincing the wife agreed to sit and read while I spent 30 minutes fishing.
Most of the action appeared to be out of reach of the seven weight , but I managed to fool a few stragglers.
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Chalk one up for the old "Blind Squirrel" theory. Three whites and two wipers if my identification was correct , they were all under two pounds and at that size it's not always easy to tell. Regardless of what exact species or sub-species they belonged to ,the tug was sufficient to take the edge off until the next fix.
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When I got back to the truck and announced my success ,five fish in thirty minutes , I was given a shake of the head and informed that I'd been down there for an hour and fourty-five minutes. It took some doing but I finally convinced her that fishermen have their own understanding of time that doesn't neccessarily fall in place with what the standard timepieces of today are capable of calculating. I like to think we're one step ahead of the rest of the world when it comes to time management , give me thirty minutes and I can somehow turn it into two hours almost effortlessly. She wasn't impressed , but nonetheless what a great way to spend thirty minutes on a blustery fall afternoon!!
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