Are you kidding?!

Come on PETA... seriously.
Sea Kittens?

Go get a hamburger, or a BBQ sandwich. That's the best way to spare a fish.

Get real.

The Rolex

Here's a fly pattern that I have seen lots of variations on, when looking through fly boxes on the rivers of the South. The Rolex is mainly used as a general attractor streamer that imitates a minnow or crayfish, and it performs well on brown trout in the Chattahoochee river in GA. I imagine this would also work for redfish or speckled trout in saltwater.

• Recipe: (for this variation, there are many)
• Hook: #6-8 2x Streamer
• Thread: Red (any color works)
• Tail: Gold Flashabou
• Body: Gold Flash-in-a-tube or any shredded foil dubbing
• Head: Gold / Silver Bead or Cone
  

1. Tie thread down shank of hook and stop at the bend.
2. Tie in lead wire and wrap lead up the shank, overerap and tie off thread at the head with a half hitch.
3. Wrap thread back down to the shank and put in a half hitch.
4. Wax the thread and twist on a rope of small pinches of the shredded foil dubbing.
5. Wrap the dubbing "rope" up the shank, adding dubbing when necessary to cover.
6. Tie off at the head with a whip finish.
   

The color of the dubbing material can be varied to just about any color combo; shown above are rust and rainbow trout colors.
Fish it out of logjams or cover with 12" strips and hang on.
This pattern is perfect for spawning brown trout in the fall.

Enjoy!

T

In Dreams

Today I awoke from a dream at 4:00 AM. It was similar to a recurring dream that I have had dozens of times. The dream includes myself and a small group, often two others, wading and walking down the banks of the most perfect trout stream you could have ever ordered up from God.

This stream is actually a medium sized river, about 75 feet across (almost a long cast wide) and runs between several inches and 7-8 feet deep. It's shallow enough to wade, but deep enough to drown you if you're not careful. The river is cold, but not freezing. The bright green weeds on the dark gray bottom are broken up by rocks about the size of footballs. There is no mud, silt or sand. The weather is in the high 70's and we are comfortable wading up to our waists most of the day. The bankside runs are shaded by mature pines, spruces, and hemlocks. It's warm enough for short sleeves, probably late Spring. Perfect.

We cast long perfect shots with our fly rods, mending our lines against the current to get the flies deep (we're often casting streamers.) Roughly one out of about every 30 casts produces a fish. There is plenty of time between hookups to talk about nothing in particular, including what's probably around the next bend. None of us can believe how perfectly wonderful this river is, and that's mainly the conversation topic.

My faceless companions in the dreams are always guys. I cant place exactly who they are, but sometimes they seem to be my Father and a few friends from today and long ago. One thing is constant, they are trusted peers, and they know that they are in a special place.

There is no hooting or hollering. There's no loud music or cars driving down the road by the riverside, only the sound of the falling water and the occasional joking prod or friendly remark from a fellow fisherman. Sometimes one of us us singing or whistling a tune. It's perfect in every way.

When a fish is caught, it is most often a rainbow trout in the range of 16-20 inches. Thick and shiny, these fish come to the net after long fights sometimes involving aerial acrobatics. It is wonderful. We release the fish after everyone has a chance to inspect them, and marvel at their beauty and strength. They swim slowly away to their hiding places, unharmed.

The day seems to never end as we fish a section, hop out and hike to the next, and slide in for another round.

I wake up. It's morning, and I'm smiling, thinking about the river in my dreams. I'll visit it again one day soon. Photo note: I'm fairly sure my dream river draws many of its features from the Thorne River on Prince of Wales Island near Ketchikan, AK. Chris Stock, Azim Surka and I visited there in 2001 for several days. I will never forget it, and will return when my son Cash is old enough to wade up to his waist.

Stripers in the Hooch

For more than 10 years I have heard the various stories of the schools of striped bass making their way up to our part of the Chattahoochee from down in West Point Lake. I always "sour graped" them and dismissed the tales as fishermen's conjecture or wishful thinking. That is, until August 2008. Dave Henderson and I were out floating from Morgan Falls Dam to Johnson Ferry throwing streamers for trout when this guy slammed a #8 Olive Bugger on a sink tip line. The explosive fight in this small striper was incredible. He must've lasted about 10 minutes, ripping drag and running downstream and across the whole time. Dave (thankfully) grabbbed the oars and chased after him at one point. I've got to say that this is the closest fight to a bonefish as I have experienced in fresh water. You Northeast striper guys have got it good!

Take a kid fishing... this might happen

Quality time with the kid(s) is something I'm just now figuring out, and it's rewarding as can be. For this guy, it was record-breaking!

Looks like Mattel may be making some pretty sick rods. I'm still keeping my Sage's and St Croixs for now.

Abbotts Bridge to Medlock Bridge

Two weeks ago, Mike Hendrix (who used to work next to me) and I hit the "artificial only" section of the Chattahoochee Tailwater near Duluth, GA for some catching up. Mike works for Red Hat, and loves his new job. I enjoyed reconnecting with him for the afternoon. Here's a nice wild brown that Mike caught and released near the Atlanta Athletic Club. Fish like this are not that common in my boat, and I was really excited. Once again, this fish reinforces the theory (which may as well be considered fact) that Salmo Trutta is reproducing in our river, and doing well.