Another poor victim who went on a
Mustache Ride.
Believe it or not, I've made it out fishing twice this past week. Almost unbelievable considering the summer I've had back at the Roughfisher Command Post. And as much as I'd like to contribute fishing stories and adventures with you all, I've had a couple of cameras snafus this past week, one involving accidentally deleted photos which were immediately overwritten by Android OS, the other involving mystery photos that never showed up on my SD card. Maybe it was operator error, who knows, but the bottom line is I won't put up a fishing story without photos simply because then it becomes just that, a story. You know what they say, pics or it didn't happen. Words to live by....
So I met up with a Facebook friend of mine the past two weekends. Last weekend was on his home turf near southeastern Minnesota. This weekend was on my home turf up on the Otter Tail in northwestern Minnesota. Kind of like a home and home series. Flows in both regions have been somewhat stable, something that has been in short supply this season. Even the Otter Tail was low, having finally dropped to 543 cfs, the lowest it's been in two years. Of course normal flows for this time of year is 206 cfs, but I'll take what I can get. We'll see how long this lasts.
It was ungodly hot this weekend with highs around 90 both days. Fine for you southern folk, but not for us northerners, and especially not in mid September. Hell that's above average for us even in the peak of summer in July. Regardless, the bass were soaking it up. I watched countless numbers of smallies expolode towards my fly as I skittered it across the rocky shoreline. There was tail dancing involved. I know it's just a bass, but it provided for some quick entertainment between searching for pods of carp.
With the lower flows and water levels in the reservoirs above Orwell, I was expecting to find a bunch of congregated carp feeding. No dice. This has been the summer of where's the fish? I can see fish being dispersed off the flats during high water and on to the floodplain, but now that the water's dropped, those flats are barren and the floodplains dry. Where have they gone? I have no idea, but I'm curious to see if these fish will work their way upstream this fall IF the flows stay somewhat reasonable for awhile. At least that's what I can hope...
Finally got my first Minnesota carp to take a
Mustache Ride. I had pondered whether or not this fly would be too big for the Minnesota variety carp, but I was pleasantly surprised when this fish hit it. I watched a pod of two fish turn out off a flat and enter the main channel. I was at a high vantage point and dropped the fly right into their feeding lane. I had wondered if my fly was going to be coming in hot and way too high for those fish until I watched one of them roll up off the bottom and rise to the fly. It quickly inhaled it and turned downstream. Any shred of doubt about whether or not this fly would be effective on Minnesota carp was immediately thrown out the window. Now that's what I'm talking about! Not the biggest carp by any means, not even average sized really, but this little guy helped turn the worm and proved to me that the
Mustache Ride can hang wherever it's fished. Good to know.
I know the bass love a
Mustache Ride. Thanks for the bass thumb little fella...
There may be hope for 2011 yet. Despite the rain falling from the sky as I type this, a two week dry spell in the region (somewhat of a rare occurrence as of late) has allowed many of the tributaries of the Otter Tail and Red Rivers to finally begin to fall. While nowhere near as low as normal for this time of year, flows are starting to finally approach wadeable and fishable levels, nearly four months after the start of spring runoff. Insane. With rivers finally back within their banks, hopefully these lower flows will start to congregate fish and bring them off of the floodplains and onto their normal flats and other haunts. Lower flows will weaken the strong currents allowing a fly to drift more freely to fish holding in deep pools anr runs without the added burden of excess tungsten and lead. This should give the advantage back to the fly angler.
Who knows how long this will last. Time to get back on the saddle.
It's late summer and things are beginning to wind down. The arrival of monarchs on their annual migration to Mexico and points south, blooming wildflowers, low temperatures hinting at dipping into the forties, and the rogue tree or two teasing with hints of gold and crimson on their periphery all mark the inevitable change in season. This is also the beginning of prime time for collecting tallgrass prairie and wildflower seeds. Yes, summer is near over and fall is almost here. Finally.
Fall brings many of my fondest memories in the Great White North, often culminating with the first frost of the season. Water temperatures and fall turnover often result in some tremendous fishing. Some of my most memorable fish have come in late fall. In addition, flushing grouse from aspen groves, apple picking and hay rides with the family, and the explosion of pheasants from the remaining crop residue from the fall harvest are all some of my favorite pastimes, not to mention good eats. There's nothing like the smell of roast pheasant, apple pie, smoked duck, wild rice, or the flavors of fresh bratwurst and sauerkraut emanating from the kitchen.
Sending the kids off to school in the little yellow bus is just a few days away, which begs the question, has anyone every come up with a monarch butterfly fly pattern? I bet the bass would hit that! And then my next question, how much vacation leave do I have saved up?
Day two on the water was considerably different than the day prior. Fish were present but were busy "sunning" themselves under the ironically cloudy skies. Perfect casts to slow cruisers resulted in no takes, nary even a look. Frustrating to say the least. Moving on to some backwater bays found some active fish. Tails could be spotted and even a few dorsal fins breaking the surface. Still tough conditions with the clouds on the sky, but with the surface breaks we were able to locate fish. In between a break in the clouds, we were able to find a bunch of large bigmouth buffalo filter feeding. Unfortunately, fishing to buffalo when they are feeding on plankton and filamentous algae is for naught. I have yet to catch a buffalo under these conditions, other for casting a fly directly into their gaping mouths and snagging the hook inside their throat. Hardly sporting at all. At one point, a lined fish erupted in a chain reaction of spooked fish, much like nuclear fission, resulting in a tsunami like wave over one foot high and sixty feet wide. The tip of the crest was so powerful on this wave that it even broke like a wave hitting the surf. An unreal sight.
The day was saved after dredging up a very healthy channel cat from the bottom of the mud flats. A stripped fly was taken by the cruising cat whose dorsal fin was ripping through the surface like a shark. An easy five pounds for this fish. And now for the obligatory Hero Shot Gone Wrong shot:
Even under high water, it's always a great time out on the backwater flats. Good stuff...
