Choosing a Fly Rod is Like Choosing a Guitar
“WHO ARE THOSE $850 FLY RODS FOR? IF THE EXPERTS DON’T NEED THEM AND THE BEGINNERS CAN’T APPRECIATE THEM, WHO NEEDS THEM?”
If you follow G&G on Facebook then you probably know about my love of old school blues. If you don’t follow us on Facebook, you should, you’re missing half the fun.
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I went out the other night to see my friend Gabriel Szucs, AKA “Little G Weevil,” play some blues at a local bar. G is a singularity. Hungarian born, he moved to the states, to the south specifically, to immerse himself in the roots of the blues. After years on Beale St. in Memphis, he fell in love and married a gal from Atlanta and moved there for her. That’s the only way we would ever have a local blues player of his talent.
I discovered G in a hole in the wall BBQ joint called Hottie Hawgs. It’s a dive but there was briefly an awesome music scene there. Trust me when I tell you that this guy is a world class talent. Unfortunately, no one has told the Hungarians that Americans haven’t given a shit about the blues for forty years so you’ve likely never heard of him.
Honestly, you haven’t heard G until you’ve heard him live. It’s his jaw dropping improvisation and the way he responds to the crowd that blows you away. OK, I’m getting to the fishing. I expected to see G playing his flame top Fibenare or maybe his 1940 Kay, both remarkable guitars, but instead, there he sat with a cheap Epiphone acoustic that he payed $150 for in a Mississippi pawn shop.
He slapped a vintage pickup on it and off he went. It sounded amazing! I could not believe he was playing those licks on an acoustic. Epiphones, Gibson’s budget priced imports, are OK guitars but most good players couldn’t play like that on a Taylor or Martin.
“Yeah, it’s hard to play but I don’t care,” G told me. “I like the way it sounds, it’s different.”
You sure couldn’t tell that it was hard to play and that got me thinking about fly rods. You can spend anywhere from $200 to $5000 on a fly rod. You can pay more if you want a really special collectors item but what do you need?
It’s a complicated question. I have some inexpensive rods that I love. I have some really expensive ones I love too. What’s the difference? Other than
Read More »DIY Magnetic Fly Box
Make a fly box and win a Gink and Gasoline sticker!
THERE IS ONE THING THAT ALL FLY FISHERMEN HAVE IN COMMON. WHETHER WE CHASE TROUT OR TARPON, MUSKY OR BASS WE ALL CARRY TOO MANY FLIES.
For any given day on the water I select fly boxes from a stack in my office and cram as many of them as humanly possible into my pack. Not only do all of these fly boxes take up space, they eat into the budget too. This little DIY box helps with both. It’s cheap and tiny.
I love magnet boxes, especially for small flies. Getting a number 24 midge into and out of foam is almost impossible and dumping them lose into a bin is a disaster. The magnet box holds these tiny flies nice and tight and keeps them from tangling up in a ball. It’s easy to find the fly you’re looking for and retrieve it. The foam strips in the lid are great for dries and a few larger patterns.
To make this box I start with an Altoids box. This is basically free because I’m buying the mints anyway. I used a Yellowstone souvenir box for this one. The next step is to apply the magnetic sheet. This is cheap and easy too. These magnets are
Read More »Most Seams Hold Trout Regardless of Size
Just about all seams in rivers and streams hold trout. The larger and deeper the water a seam has, the more trout it can hold. Likewise, the smaller and shallower a seam is, the less room there will be available and less trout it can accommodate. Just remember, regardless of the size of a seam, that almost all of them hold trout and are worthy of a cast or two by anglers.
Read More »Fly Fishing Tip: Check Your Rig For Tangles and Unwanted Debris
The other day, guiding two anglers, I learned a valuable lesson of how important it can be to regularly check fly rigs throughout the day. One of my clients had just landed a nice trout, so I told him to wade up and fish the next spot upstream, while I spent a few minutes instructing his buddy. About 15 minutes later, I returned to the client I had left, and asked if he’d gotten any action while I was gone. He responded, “No, but I made some really good presentations and drifts.” Surprised that the spot didn’t produce any trout (as it usually does), I requested him to bring in his rig for me to inspect his flies, and I immediately noticed the problem. There was a big glob of debris attached to his fly. It was evident that the nymph rig had snagged the bottom early on, grabbed some debris, and the trout had ignored the salad covered fly the remainder of his drifts.
It’s really easy for us to get lackadaisical on the water fly fishing, especially when we’re enjoying our time away from work and the beauty of the outdoors. Failing to take the time throughout the day to inspect and perform rig maintenance on the water, can have you in the penalty box without even knowing it. The two most common causes are rigs tangled (dry/dropper rig or tandem nymph rig) and flies that are carrying unwanted vegetation. Next time you’re on the water and you’re not getting bites when you think you should be, stop and check your rig for problems. It could very well, be the only reason why you’re not getting your rod bent. For all you guides, make a point to inform your novice clients of the importance of doing these maintenance checks before you leave their side. It’s a valuable lesson many beginners will overlook if you don’t point it out to them.
Read More »The Pop Off Shark Leader
MAYBE IT’S THE KID IN ME BUT I CAN’T RESIST TOSSING A FLY AT A HUNGRY SHARK. I MAKE NO EXCUSES FOR IT. IF SHARKS WEREN’T COOL, SHARK WEEK WOULDN’T BE THE HOTTEST THING ON THE DISCOVERY CHANNEL. THEY’RE BIG, THEY’RE MEAN, THEY’RE STRONG, THEY’RE TOOTHY AND THEY’RE JUST PLAIN COOL.
The problem is, as much fun as they are to hook and fight, landing them can get a little, well… bitey. On several occasions I’ve brought sharks to the boat and seen them come out of the water and clamp down on the gunwale, shaking violently. They have no sense of humor.
My buddy Michael White shares my fondness for sharking and he showed me a great trick for an easy long distance release. When you tie your shark leader use 6 feet of 50 lb fluorocarbon for the butt. Tie a loop in one end and blood knot a piece
Read More »The Streamer Game
Streamer fishing is addictive. It’s almost become a cliche, but it’s true.
Guys get into it and hardly want to do anything else. I’m kinda one of those guys. I do lots of kinds of fishing, but if I’m out for trout and there’s nothing obvious going on, a streamer is likely what I’m tying on. I can’t say for sure why other folks get hooked on streamers, but I know what it is for me.
Obviously, there is immense skill in fishing dry flies and nymphs. Each is an art unto itself but the very nature of a dead drift is inherently passive. Streamer fishing is active. What I mean by that is, you are directly imparting an action to the fly which fools the fish. For me, it just feels more personal. I am “making” that fish eat. Again, this is totally personal but when I see the fish chase and eat my streamer it’s incredibly rewarding. The really cool thing about this is that it leaves a lot of room for personal expression on the part of the angler. My action is my action, by my hand. It’s different from yours, and every dedicated streamer fisherman I know has their own style. Those styles vary widely, so I thought I would share some of the gear and tactics that are successful for me.
Here’s how I play the game.
I want to get in the fish’s face with a big fly that looks alive but vulnerable. I want that fly to look like a bait fish that’s disoriented and in a panic. I want a lot of room between me and the bank. I want to identify and hit multiple holding zones between me and the bank. I’ll drop my fly a few inches from the bank just upstream of a likely pocket, then as I work it back to the boat, I mend, or pause, or speed up my retrieve to work the fly through as many holding zones as I can identify. Fifty or sixty feet is an ideal distance. It’s a challenging way to fish, but for me, it’s deadly.
Here is the setup I use to overcome some of the challenges.
Read More »Wild Trout, Mushrooms and Perspective
By Louis Cahill
I’m not sure there is such a thing as being lost in the woods.
I certainly don’t feel lost as I walk the trail, once an old logging road looking down on a beautiful, tumbling trout stream. I feel much more at home than lost, even though my new vision is not good in the confusing visual surroundings. The smells and the sounds are all old friends, as are the feel of the dirt and water and fine layer of sweat forming everywhere on my body. The warm, wet embrace of the forest feels like home. It’s Justin that I’ve lost.
It was so generous of him to drive me up here and take me out fishing, knowing I’d be slow and likely a burden. We were both so excited to fish that we couldn’t help but stop where the trail crosses the first stream and see if anyone was home. I was sure I’d seen him start up the trail and, when my calls got no answer, I figured I’d better get after him. I didn’t want to be the invalid slowing him down. I was too concerned with proving I could keep up to realize I was leaving him behind.
I still can’t get used to the idea that I can no longer trust my eyes. Just yesterday, my wife was telling me about a beautiful humming bird in the garden. I couldn’t see it. After she went inside, and I was about to do the same, I spotted him. He was hovering right in front of me, almost like he was blocking my way, so close I could almost reach out and touch him. I froze and watched him for thirty seconds or so before it dawned on me that it was not a hummingbird four feet away, but a big ass bee four inches away, warning me away from his nest. Perspective. Not as easy as it once was.
A mile and a half up the trail, the idea is just occurring to me that it was likely not Justin I’d seen headed up the trail, or it was Justin and this was not where he was headed. Either way, I’m alone to enjoy my stupidity. That’s the charitable nature of my self examination. Too proud to think of myself as handicapped, just enough self loathing to think of myself as stupid. I started back down the path letting out the occasional “Hootie-Hoo!” and listening for Justin’s response.
I have to keep a good eye on the trail, lest I walk off the edge. There’d be no stopping the tumbling on that slope. Along the edge of the trail I spot scattered orange trumpet shapes. I know that color, not quite orange but not yellow. Chanterelle mushrooms, I’m pretty sure. Kathy will be excited. Maybe too excited, she’s way more comfortable popping forest treats in her mouth than I am. “Pretty sure,” is not a great place to be with wild mushrooms. Damned sure is almost sure enough. I pick two and put them in my pack for further inspection by the smarter half of the family. I “Hoot” again and this time I hear Justin hoot back.
This stream is one of those you don’t talk about. Maybe, after fishing with a guy for years, seeing how he handles fish, seeing how he treats his family. understanding his religion and politics, maybe seeing him take in a sick stray dog, you might casually drop the name.
“Hey, you ever heard of…”
Then if he gives you that look, like he isn’t sure he should say yes, like he’s quietly judging you, maybe thinking about that time you had one too many and lost your temper with that idiot in the bar in Jackson, and then he says, “Yeah, I fish up there.”
Then the two of you might plan a trip. You hike up there for a day, not more than once a year, because you know how special it is and you don’t want to screw it up. You catch little wild fish on dry flies out of every pocket, and once, maybe twice in your lifetime a fifteen or sixteen inch fish charges out from a dark undercut bank to eat your fly, in a stream you can jump across, and the two of you never forget it but you never talk about it. That’s the kind of day it was.
It was my first real day of mountain trout fishing in over a year. The first time I’d
Read More »Why I Want to Move to Argentina
By Justin Pickett
“SO MUCH WATER, NO ONE PERSON WOULD EVER BE ABLE TO COVER ALL OF IT, BUT I’D SURE LIKE TO TRY.”
At the beginning of the year I was afforded the opportunity to travel to Argentina for a week-long fishing adventure in the Patagonia region with Andes Drifters. It was relatively short notice (less than 30 days), and my typical schedule doesn’t really allow for that, but over my dead body was I going to miss out on an opportunity like this. I can still remember the phone call I received from Louis. I was standing in the paint section of Home Depot mulling over my list of needed stuff for household projects when he asked me if I could rearrange my schedule in order to make the trip. I was so consumed with making it work that I completely spaced out and left the store without buying a damn thing on that list. It took some scrambling over a few days, but I was able to work it out. Less than a month later I was on a flight to Buenos Aires, and let me tell you it was one amazing trip.
Let me first say that, yes, the fishing is the reason why I was so excited to come to Argentina, and it did not disappoint. When I stepped off of that plane, it was all I could do to keep myself from stringing up a rod and throwing a double-haul down the terminal. What I didn’t realize was that by the time I left, I would have a huge appreciation for the people and the culture of Argentina, and the endless opportunities for travel and adventure, whether you’re going stag, or traveling with your family. Not to mention the guides’ enthusiasm for wanting to share everything about their world with you.
Once arriving in Buenos Aires, we hopped on a two hour flight west to Bariloche, which is a major hub for those traveling into the Patagonia region. We were met outside the terminal by a few of the guides and tossed our gear into their HiLux’s (which are awesome!) and headed for the lodge. It would be another two hours before we would make it to the lodge, and at first I couldn’t stand the thought of two more hours of travel. However, once we made it out of the airport, the concept of time was lost to me. I couldn’t take my eyes off of the scenery. Everywhere I looked, as far as the eye could see, was unmolested beauty. The bluest skies, snow-capped volcanoes, soaring condors, rivers and streams flowing everywhere, and mountain ranges reaching towards the Pacific filled my view from the passenger seat, and before I knew it we had arrived at the Spring Creek Lodge.
Here, again, the scenery is second to none. The lodge sits in a valley alongside the banks of a small tributary of Rio Chimehuin, with the main flow just 200 meters from the lodge. Surrounding the main lodge are the well-appointed, two-bedroom guest cabins. Looking out the front door of your cabin, you’re greeted with an in-your-face view of the Lanin Volcano, just beyond the rolling hills and towering mountain range. Meandering through the property is a small creek which drains into a small pond full of big Brown and Rainbow trout, which are introduced as pets and are off limits to any hook harassment, but fun to watch nonetheless. The service and the friendliness of the staff at the lodge are amazing. Nothing is out of the question, and they make sure that you have everything you want and need. Gustavo Hiebaum operates the lodge and is a wonderful host. He and the staff make sure to interact with each and every guest on a daily basis, making sure everyone is stress-free and having a great time.
A typical day with Andes Drifters consists of waking up early to find a generous spread of fresh coffee, fruits, cereals, juices, pastries, meats, eggs and anything else you could ever desire for breakfast. I wanted for nothing. Oh, and don’t forget the dolce de leche. It’s present, in some form or fashion, at just about every meal, and you’ll want to bring home a jar of it for yourself! While at the lodge, I made sure to take the time to enjoy a cup of coffee on the porch every morning so I could relax, wake up, and admire the view. By seven-thirty or eight, the guides had arrived and began packing the trucks with our gear and got everybody ready to depart for the river. We were usually on the water by 9am, which is late by my standards, but what you may not know about this region is that summer days here are LONG. The sun rises around 6:30am and doesn’t set until nearly 10:00pm, leaving plenty of light for fishing so there’s no need to rush. Once we arrived at our put-in and got our rods strung up, we hit the water and got to fishing. And fish hard we did.
We would stop at a nice shady spot for lunch every day with enough time afterwards to recharge the batteries with a short nap. Lunch was another great experience. No corners cut. The meals consisted mainly of cold meats, pastas, salads, as well as other local fare, and were outstanding. Once lunch was broken down it was back to the fishing for the rest of the day until it was time for the row-in beer. Once back at the lodge, there was enough downtime to relax and clean up. In the lodge, wine and spirits flowed and hors d’oeuvres were laid out for everyone to enjoy. Dinner was always special. Not only was the food spectacular, but Gustavo arranged some sort of entertainment for every evening, such as tango dancers and musicians, adding to the enjoyment had by all. Truly, a day that could only be described as rewarding and awe inspiring.
Spending a week on the water with the guides from Andes Drifters was a treat in itself. These guys work their butts off to make sure their clients are safe, have fun, and catch fish. They were the first up every morning to make sure we were ready to hit the water, and the last to go to sleep, and they do it all with a smile. I’ve never heard so much fun and laughter come from a group of guides sitting around the lunch table, or a campfire. It’s obvious the Andes Drifters’ guides truly love to be on the water with their clients. And not only do these guides love their job, but they are damn good at it! Our guide that week, Eduardo, could row a damn boat and knew his water like the back of his hand. Open minded, and full of knowledge, tips, and tricks, it was a pleasure being on the boat with him that week.
Ah, the meat and potatoes… The fishing. Andes Drifters offers numerous options when it comes to fishing the waters around the northern Patagonia region. Names like Chimehuin, Melleo, Alumine, and Limay are mainstays in this area, and
Read More »First look at the Ibera Wetlands
By Louis Cahill
Every now and then I have to remind myself that a redfish tail isn’t going to pop up along the edge of the grass.
The scene looks familiar but what lurks below the surface is a bit more sinister. The Ibera Wetlands, in northern Argentina, may look like the Lowcountry marsh of South Carolina but that’s the end of any similarity. The eight-thousand square mile, freshwater marsh is like a vast, grassy inland sea. It filters immeasurable gallons of rainwater headed for the Parana river system and supports a remarkably diverse array of wildlife including prehistoric tapers, capybara, caiman and countless exotic birds. Deep in the marsh live native people so isolated they do not even speak Spanish, and while everything that meets your eye appears like some lost paradise, below the surface of the water things are very different. There in the weed and grass below the water is the most ruthless food chain I have ever witnessed.
We are there to fish for dorado, the king of freshwater sport fish. They are a vicious apex predator and seriously challenging on a fly rod, but they are only one of a cast of toothy players in this place. I honestly can’t remember the names of most of the species I’ve caught. The first morning, eight casts brought in eight different species, including one that looked like a musky and a neon tetra had a baby. There are piranha everywhere. Growing up in the sixties, television led me to believe two thing were going to be a constant threat in life, quicksand and piranha. I’ve still yet to have a life threatening run in with quicksand but, in this place, piranha live up to my childhood expectations. I wasn’t eaten alive, but I lost countless flies. Some spots you just have to fire up the motor and move on.
Moving on is, in it’s self an interesting proposition in the wetlands. The abundance of vegetation gives the impression that there is a lot of land. There isn’t, just huge rafts of floating vegetation. What look like islands move with the flow of the water. If you open a channel through them, it will quickly close. While making navigation tricky, the narrow slips through the vegetation make for some very cool fishing. We pole the boat down channels barely four feet wide, casting huge rat patterns into bends and cuts ahead of the boat. When a strike comes, it’s heart stopping.
Dorado fishing is never easy. No matter where you do it, or how, it will test you. You will certainly have some great fishing days in the wetlands
Read More »Study Shows Salmon Farming Results in 20% Loss of Wild Atlantic Salmon
By Jason Tucker
Farm raised salmon may represent a serious threat to wild fish populations.
A recently released Scottish study has demonstrated that salmon farming in estuaries used by wild salmon results in a 20% loss in returning wild salmon, mostly as a result of sea lice infestation due to the unnatural conditions fostered by net pen fish farming. It also tracked losses due to genetic introgression from escaped fish.
The study was commissioned by the International Council for the Exploration of the Sea, also known as ICES.
The original question presented for study was “Advise on possible effects of salmonid aquaculture on wild Atlantic salmon populations focusing on the effects of sea lice, genetic interactions and the impact on wild salmon production.”
Some important points from the study (copied directly from it so I don’t get them wrong) are:
-The survival of Atlantic salmon during their marine phase has fallen in recent decades. This downturn in survival is evident over a broad geographical area and is associated with large-scale oceanographic changes. Viewed against current marine mortality rates commonly at or above 95%, the ‘additional’ mortality attributable to sea lice has been estimated at around 1%.
– In some studies, the impact of sea lice has also been estimated
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