Reality Bites

I recently did a guest post for the Scientific Anglers & Ross Reels Insider blog, encouraging folks to hit up the Fly Fishing Film Tour, a highly successful and well attended event held at theaters across the country. While the rationale listed are compelling enough to head out to the show, here's what really happens at the F3T.

Listed are the reasons published on the SA/Ross Insider blog followed by my repsonse.

1. An evening packed with fly fishing footage captured in near every corner of the planet chasing foreign as well as familiar species of fish is always a great time, and a great way to get excited for the upcoming season. It is always interesting to see how the action is captured from the different perspectives of the cameraman and director.
For half the show you're sitting in your seat wondering where in the world is Uzbekitajikikurdistan and why in the hell did they travel all that way to fish for stocker rainbows? The other half you're wondering if everyone in the film is stoned the whole time, how did they pass through customs, how did they get any sponsors to pick up the tab for this film, and how do I get in on this racket? Show us something really bold and daring, like fishing the muni cesspool for mutant cyprinids.

2. The F3T is a great place to catch up with friends, reconnect with old acquaintances, and meet some new folks, possibly even future fishing buddies.
The F3T is a great place to see wannabees, Orvis boys, hacks, and washed up old guides hitting on little duck lipped girls, cougars, pumas, divorcees, Stage 5 clingers, and anything else with a pulse. Even more entertainment when the burnouts are trying to score with industry gals who are way out of their league. Word from the underground has it that April Vokey will be making a cameo at this year's tour stop.

3. Your ticket will get you access to great SWAG and killer prizes from the tour sponsors during the show, as well as sweet discounts at participating fly shops across the country.
Watch from the crowd as some clueless first timer newbie walks up on stage to claim the grand prize of an all expense paid guided trip to the tropics or the newfangled, industry over-hyped rod and reel. If it wasn't for bad luck I'd have no luck at all. I'll stick to my F3T swag trucker hat thank you very much.

4. The F3T road crew are an eclectic group of passionate, die hard anglers. These guys are true road warriors and have fished across many borders. Their fishing adventures are unforgettable and their exploits from the road are even more legendary. If you get the opportunity, don’t pass up the chance to shoot the breeze with one of these colorful characters.
I've witnessed firsthand folks playing pimp for some of the tour members, hooking them up with everything from women to weed. When last call comes around, you'll be sure to find these guys getting swept out the door. Rode hard and put away wet. Don't drop the soap!

5. Unless you’re fortunate to live in a warm climate with access to year-round fishing, or have got a hot tropical trip lined up for the winter, is there really anymore reason to leave the snowy, icy grip of winter behind for the evening and talk fishing?
Do you really need an excuse to get out of the house and get hammered on cheap watered down beer, making a complete and utter fool of yourself in public? I bet you a Hurricane High Gravity you don't.

Everybody have fun and I hope to see you all at the F3T in Minneapolis this year! Stay classy, Minnesota.

hiver

I walked on water.


Okay, so maybe I had a little help. The majority of the small and medium sized lakes in the region locked up with ice over the past week. Blanketed with recent snowfall, the frost line is as deep as six inches in some areas already. Coupled with low river flows, I can pretty much count the season as over. Even as a die hard angler, I am not reluctant to call it over, as fish were few and far between in early September, seeking the refuge of deeper water. Any efforts at this time spent searching for fish worthy of a drift seem futile, and more like a fool's quest.

Seems only reasonable that my days now be spent behind the vise, on icy treks across frozen lakes in search of fish through a freshly augered hole, celebrating the ups and downs of college hockey, traversing billowy drifts of fresh powder underneath my snowmobile, and warm comfortable evenings at home with the family, waiting, waiting, waiting, for that first sign of spring when I can once again drift a nymph.

Bonsoir.

A triumphant return

I know it's been a long hiatus; I apologize for my absence. Life's been busy at the Roughfisher Command Post, including the usual busy workload synonymous with the summer field season, a myriad of fly orders to tie, married life with my new bride, and the usual goings on with two young kids at home. Throw in a new job and a coaching gig for the wife, gymnastics for my daughter, and starting my son with skating and hockey this fall. Busy. But not to fret, field season is winding down and I'll have more time to spend behind the helm at the Command Post.


I've got a bunch of exciting and interesting things to share with you all, like the newly revamped CarpPro, some recent publicity for my flies, some upcoming gear reviews like a look at SmithFly's modular switch belt system and new 3X pouch, some new products coming down the line, and much more.

Welcome back, and welcome to any new folks visiting the blog for the first time. Stay tuned.

What You Think I Do

Figured it was about time I jump on the bandwagon and do one of these for carp...

Tatonka

A bruiser caught a few weeks back during our "January thaw", when daily high temps topped 50 degrees for a couple of days.




To be honest, it's not really a thaw when there was no snow on the ground, daily temps were ranging in the mid to upper 30s and overnight lows were in the upper 20s. This non winter has been a joke, but at least I was able to take advantage of it and fly fish in the dead of January. Never thought I'd be able to pull that off in the Great Brown North.


Unfortunately, I wasn't able to get a good release shot since this fish still held some vigor and wouldn't sit still for me. For scale, that is a Ross F1 #4 reel, 4" diameter spool. This fish is in the 30" plus class. It always fascinates me that without a good reference, it is difficult on film to capture scale on a large specimen. The typical fish porn grip and grin photo is so overdone it's lost most of its cachet, however, aside from the super-extendo arm thrust pose, it does serve as a decent reference for scale and proportion.

Either way you cut it, it's still a nice fish!

Sunset

I think it's finally time to hang up the long rods for the season, get out the shorties, and fire up the ice auger. Winter's arrival has the lakes pinging from the formation of new ice, sounds reminiscent of the Hunt For Red October. Fishing villages are starting to sprout up as each ice house fights to get set up on their honey hole. It's about that time to hit the ice and do a little harvesting.


While the 2011 fly fishing season included some memorable moments and fantastic adventures, most notably my excursion to Beaver Island, it was also matched with much regret. This past season has probably marked my fewest number of days on the water, which is not something that I am proud to report. High flows early on in the season, as well as domestic issues, kept me off the river for much of the year. While I will never be one to shirk my responsibilities as parent and denigrate the role, my priorities have recognizably focused on duties and activities other than fishing. I am hoping for resolve over the winter, in hopes that the situation will improve. I will will also make a better effort to get my kids involved in fly fishing this next year. At ages 3 and 7, hopefully, under my guidance and with a little help from dad, my kids will be able to land their first fish on a fly next season. In addition, they might be lacking the dexterity and maturity to master the skills needed behind the vise, but I will also strive to expose my kids more to the world of fly tying this winter, in efforts that they begin to embrace fly fishing culture. I've already got two great little helpers who are more than enthusiastic about fish and dad's interest in fly fishing. It's been long overdue to have them take the next step forward.

The sun sets on yet another season. I can't wait to get my boots wet in 2012.

giving thanks

2011 has been a year of turmoil, not just in the scheme of world politics but there has been a lot going on behind the tungsten curtain over at the roughfisher command post. It's been a state of upheaval and change, including a brief stint of unemployment, however it also brings about the opportunity for reflection, self discovery, and growth. So here's what I'm thankful for this year:

The Family - My support staff has always been number one. Thank you for holding the rudder straight and firm, even when I was listing off course.
The Kids - You guys are my life blood. Thanks mateys!
The Lady - You keep the wind at my sails. I love you!
My Fishy Friends - Thanks for keeping me in the scene even when I haven't been able to be on the water.
Hurricane High Gravity - If it wasn't for your $1.39 price tag, high ABV, and delicious taste hitting my lips, I don't know how I would have made it through those fierce gales and turbulent high seas.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Salvageable?

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.

The Great Shutdown

The sign posted on my office building, effective July 1, 2011:


Our wonderful State Legislature and Governor have failed to reach a budget agreement for Fiscal Year 2012, thereby laying off 56,000 of some of Minnesota's finest and most dedicated working professionals, including myself. I don't ask for your pity, nor for a handout, but I beg the question as to why it is de rigueur to bash public employees? Like every workforce, there are individuals who may lack motivation or abuse the system, knowing no discrimination between private or public sector. But why disrespect the countless professionals who have sacrificed family and salary for a career that is at times less than rewarding? We are taxpayers just the same as everyone else. Before you begin to pick apart my argument with baseless accusations and proclaim that we do not need government in our lives, just remember who helped make Minnesota's fisheries some of the best in the nation, if not the world, next time you're out on the water. You're welcome.

The roughfisher has left the building. See ya on the river.

Cock of the Walk

Took the kids to the zoo today and all I could think about was how to get away with nabbing a few peacock swords, as well as some bison, camel, and dall sheep fur. I think I have a disease....

Another one bites the dust

Every year at about this time (Read: after May 1) this is a common sight. And for what? I just don't get it.


The significance of May 1st? The opening of taking roughfish by spear, harpoon, or archery. One day we will wake up to find out that all of Earth's viable resources have wasted, spoiled, and shriveled up and died. And surely, man will be to blame.

The Chimes of Freedom

It has come to my understanding that there is a small faction of my viewership, or should I say former viewership, that is unhappy with my recent posts on firearms. To all you folks out there who don't believe in our right to bear arms, well, you can all go and fuck yourselves. That's right, I said it; I don't really care if you don't follow the blog anymore. The Second Amendment is a core of the foundation of our great nation, whether you choose to believe it or not. I'm not going to go into a rant on here on why the Second Amendment is a necessary component of our freedom, or of the merits of gun ownership, but I will give you a virtual bitch slap for comparing my responsible ownership of a firearm to a violent crime committed by some dipshit who disrespects life.

This is not an issue of Left or Right. Gun crimes and deaths unfortunately occur across the country every year, but so do malpractice deaths, vehicular accidents, lung cancer deaths, poisonings, falls, etc. Yet, if you look at the actual numbers, gun deaths are one of the lowest causes of death. Don't believe me, then take a look at the facts. So how can some "hippie fly fisherman who listens to the Dead", support guns and gun ownership? Because I am an American first and foremost, and transcend above labels and stereotypical ideology.

For those who may ask why a fly angler needs guns, the answer is simple, I like to harvest my own fly tying materials as well as provide the occasional meal to my family. While I don't feel obligated to justify the needs nor defend my rights to gun ownership, I will say that a game animal taken in the humane manner of hunting suffers far less in providing its flesh and hide than any livestock slaughtered from a feed lot. For those fly anglers or tyers who think that they are above the need for guns or weapons of any form in order to participate in this sport, think again. Hand over those flies. Hell, handover those gotdamned $50 Abel nippers hanging from your vest, as the TSA likely classifies that as a weapon too.

A well regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the People to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed.

I don't tolerate violence of any form, but in the course of preserving freedom, understand that sometimes it is a necessary evil to bear arms in order to defend the rights that made this great nation what it is today. The very fact that we are able to voice opinion in an open forum without fear of persecution or even death (unlike the folks in Libya, Egypt, Turkey, the list goes on and on) is a very testament to the rights many have served and died to protect. For all those servicemen and women and members of the law enforcement community, I want to thank you for your service. To all of the men and women who have died while in the line of duty, there is nothing that I can do or say other than to proudly honor your memory for sacrificing your lives defending the freedoms of our great nation. You will not be forgotten.

FUBAR

WTF is up with gear these days? Manufacturers complain about recruitment and the often high barrier to enter this sport, yet they release stupid ass shit like a pair of goddamn nippers for $50 bucks. For fifty bones, that babdboy better be sporting a Class 4 laser that'll cauterize your tag ends of tippet. Recently read was a conversation debating the merits of zippered waders. No offense, but the items brought up for comparison were a couple of high buck models topping the charts at $425 and $450. $450! For a pair of waders!? What the hell has this industry come to? $450 waders puncture on barbed wire just as easily as a pair of $150 breatheables. Between angling, guiding, and my other occupation (fisheries management), I spend a lot of days in the water. Alot. I've been wearing the same beater pair of waders for going on 6 years now and not one hole or leak has sprung. Not one patch in those badboys. They aren't a pair of Patagucci or Simmps, but rather a $150 middle of the pack model store brand that didn't break the bank. What's the secret? I take care of them.

I'm not the only who's refusing to drink the kool-aid; I know of a fellow blogger and angler who'll soon be ditching his Simms for a similar performing "generic" at a quarter of the price. I'm not saying that the innovation or the technology that gear companies are bringing to the table are unappreciated, because I love gear. I'm a gear junky. But I don't believe that the bar for a mid-level piece of equipment should be set so high. Retail markup on soft goods are ridiculous. The same goes for hard goods in this industry; every "pro" knows the general rule of thumb for wholesale that a fly rod or reel is going for. Times are tough on everyone right now, but a $500 fly reel from a start up company is no way to enter the marketplace. Perhaps take a look at cutting profit margins a bit or ditch the no-fault warranties to move more product. I suppose you'd need to first move out of the Neolithic Age in order to begin embracing the principles of micro and macro economics in the Digital Age. All I know is that an $1100 spey rod isn't going to curry much favor with recruiting folks from the bait dunking and gear tossing crowd. Bubba ain't gonna pay $1100 for any gear but a new compound bow or an AR-15.

So what to do about those extravagant markups? It used to be in the past that the industry just held us all hostage. Unless you were on a pro plan, you had to pay full retail for gear. It took a great deal of time and resource to become outfitted with enough gear to meet your needs and interests; likely more than you paid for your first car, for some, maybe your first house. It seems the prices of these items just kept rising with the times, often higher than the rate of inflation. Where did the profits all go? Aside from a handful of companies, I can tell you where they didn't go: back to the resource. Likely, those huge margins went to stock fridges full of Nestle bottled water and wild PNW steelhead in more than a few executives' guest ranches on a reach of private water on some stream that we all wished we could afford to fish. Lucky for us consumers, a few folks fed up with the whole scene had the balls enough to put themselves out there and found companies that stand for something. Companies like Rise Fishing Co. are selling high end rods at guide prices and donating 20% of their proceeds to fishy causes. These are the guys that are making a difference. They are building a nice user base that will be around long after the old schoolers die off, likely taking a few of the aloof, apathetic companies with them. I say good riddance. Either change with the times or die off. It's called survival of the fittest; natural selection.

If you're in the industry, do me a solid and check out this piece on Angling Trade about the Bristol Bay Academy and see what you can do to help. If you're not, check out organizations like fishy kid, the TU conservation and fishing camp, or the National Fly Fishing in School Program and help get our youth involved. It's up to us because clearly, the mainstream industry isn't doing anything about it. All they care about is whether or not they should get their next pair of nippers in the Brook Trout or Cutthroat Trout graphic finish.

Yarnage

I don't know what my affinity is for yarn, but when a skein catches the corner of my eye, I need to thumb it over and examine each fiber closely. It's a disease. My stockpile is ever growing; I'm amassing a collection of fiber concoctions in near every shade of the spectrum, yet I keep adding to the horde. Sure yarn is an inexpensive means of collecting dyed fibers for dubbing blends, but when is enough enough?


After a point, blending enough colors of yarn, fur, synthetics, and other animal fibers will compose a single shade, whether or not you used 5 or 500 different colored fibers. So is it overkill to collect yarn in a bazillion different shades of green? Here's why I say not: there are as many different variations of nylon, rayon, polyester, and acrylic fibers, as well as blends of these fibers, as there are carp in the Mississippi. Some of these fibers have unique refractory properties, while others are just plain sublime. Besides, when a skein of mix fiber yarn is marked down from $5 to $1, you gotta fill up the cart, especially when the yarn is a sexy blend of polyester and acrylic fibers. Silky Silky crazy crazy night. Perhaps the main reason I like yarn so much is the fact that many of the colors from the factory contain insane color combinations of fibers, something that I may not consider unless I was taking hits from the bong or smoking some crack-cocaine. I have to admit, I have gotten inspiration for a spectral dubbing blend from a wacky multi-colored yarn on more than one occasion. And it won't be the last.


Another score, a card of heather grey craft yarn, perfect filler for a synthetic version of a hare's ear blend. Of course, purple is deadly for adding UV like highlights to a blend. So what do I do with all the skeins of dud yarn? Maybe I should take up knitting.....

the challenge

I was presented with a simple task the other week, tie up some trout flies. With a bit of apprehension, I dished out my take on a few adopted trout patterns that have made their way into my day box over the years, and called it good. Classics like brassies, scuds, caddis pupa nymphs, and tungsten laced death magnets like the possie bugger are all relevant patterns no matter what species of fish you pursue. Just about any fish will take these patterns if presented properly. How do I know this? Because I've caught monster pike on size 12 scuds before, that's why. These patterns are not all that difficult to tie either, but when presented with the order of producing trout flies, the task all of a sudden seemed formidable.

Just about everyone who starts out fly tying will typically begin with tying simple patterns like hare's ear nymphs or pheasant tail nymphs, but trout flies nonetheless. I was no different, in fact many of my flies for roughfish are basically bastardized trout nymphs on steroids, tied on extra heavy hooks. So it's not the difficulty that certain patterns present either, though tying in parachute posts on size 20 midge patterns certainly are not my forté. Tying commercially, or for that matter, tying 12 dozen flies of a single pattern in a single color in a single size will pretty much curb your anxiety about using unfamiliar materials or techniques. Repetition is a handy trick for gaining confidence and consistency behind the vise. Rather, my angst was likely deep rooted in the fact that by tying a trout pattern, there was a high likelihood that I would have to follow a strict recipe and stick to it.

The Brassie. A classic midge pattern for the ages. In copper and hot orange, laced with purple peacock herl, tied on a Mustad C67S 2X heavy 3X short size 12 scud hook.


One thing that I've observed after spending five seasons behind the vise experimenting with roughfish patterns, is that I've begun to become a bit of an impressionist when it comes to my fly development. It was a branch that started not long after learning to tie. I learned all the basics and skills necessary to guide me through filling a generic trout box, from tying elk hair caddis, to PT nymphs, to CDC emerger patterns, to PMDs and trico poly spinners. Perhaps it was boredom, or simply lacking the discipline to hone my craft and further develop more advanced tying techniques common with tying dry flies for trout. Likely, the lack of interest and proximity of solid dry fly water for trout is what helped fork that branch so early on. The absence of necessity certainly wasn't enough incentive for me to continue on with more advanced dry fly patterns, so naturally I delved deeper and deeper into the nymph underworld. As they say, "once you go nymph, you never go back".

Back to the challenge at hand; I'm not proposing that I tie up a production run of a fleet of Parachute Adams, there's still no need or interest on my part for dry flies. A good start, however, would be to perhaps look at my objectives at the vise for a bit and blast through a few nymph patterns and actually follow someone's recipe. Overcoming the urge to simplify, adapt or substitute is the easy way out, and you don't improve your tying skills by copping out. Embrace the challenge. Seize the opportunity to improve. Tie better flies.


Look for a few more traditional patterns over the coming winter season. Should be an interesting ride.

Thanksgiving 2010

Last year's Thanks were a classic, so why would you want to mess with a good thing? Here's an updated list of thanks for 2010 and a ghettofabulous clipart image:



Time for the roughfisher to throw around some thank yous:

I give thanks for the little roughfishers,
and the fact that Mrs. Roughfisher stuck around for another year.
Thank you for Columbia River carp, surviving death on the DSP, spectral dubbing, and my new stash of antron.
Thank you Phil, Bobby, Jeff C., John, Joe, Sunshine and Jeff P. for futhuring the unbroken chain of music on stage and in my ears.
Thank you High Gravity malt beverages.
Thanks for cleavage, tight shirts, and cold breezes.
Thank you carnitas.
Thanks to my 5 eight readers.

Happy Thanksgiving!

fin?

Time is running out. The lakes are beginning to lock up and the river banks have started to form a crust of shore ice. Snow is on the ground with more on the way. Usually this would not bring the death knell to the roughfisher. To the contrary, this is the time when you bust out the cold weather gear and heat packs for the hands. You bust out the Chapstick, Pam, Armour All, whatever trick you have up your sleeve to minimize ice build up on your guides. This is when the big gals come out to play fo' real; during normal flows.


Maybe I'm getting soft, but the record flows blasting through the Otter Tail are nothing sort of frustrating. As it is no longer possible to wade most reaches, flows are six times the median for this time of year. I shudder to think what flow will be like this winter and next spring. If the long term forecast of a La Niña winter hold true, then below average temps and above average snowpack will surely lead to a spring and summer of high flows. Again. I don't mind freezing the nards off if the water is low and clear and the fish are schooled up and concentrated as is typical in low winter flows. But as tough as it was this summer and fall to conjure up the fish from the depths, it is not going to get any easier this winter. I will not torture myself in the bitter wind and cold for naught.


Unless there is an prolonged warm spell this winter with temps above freezing and lower flows (not bloody likely), I'm done for the season. That's always a bitter pill to swallow. Better to wash it down with some suds and cherish a satisfying 2010 season full of new adventures and experiences and many new friends. Here's to a fine season of fly fishing in 2011.

Santé!
Á votre santé!
Á la votre!

How to be a playah: the scoundrel's guide to fly fishing

How to be a pimp-ass playah on the river:

Gear up. Outfit yourself with a Sage Z_n+1 = Z_n² + c Axis and an Abel Super Series reel with custom "Mountain Whitefish" finish. Spool up Rio's new Trout Whisperer fly line on 200 yards of 30# gelspun backing.

Start a blog; brag about how sweet you are. Master Photoshop and throw up some mad fish porn with extendo arm shots. Grip and grin. Butcher a hero shot and abuse monster wild fish for extra bonus points.

Indicator nymphing: Fish big ass bobbers the size of a globe. Start a flame war on your blog and internet message boards against anyone who calls your
indicator
bobber a bobber.

Fish with guys like MC Gracie Jones, Rice-cakes or Smithhammerzilla to boost your street cred. Anything you do will make you look like a champ compared to those dudes.

PBR? Step up to Hurricane High Gravity beotch.

Fish for weird shit in odd places like finescale dace on size 32 emerger patterns with a 000-weight glass rod. Be so obscure that no one knows what the fuck you are talking about. Who needs taimen when you can dredge for Sea Donkeys at the municipal cesspool?

Become burrito brothers with Singlebarbed and exchange dubbing "samples".

Post videos, movie trailers, photos, and links to other fishing sites on your blog, Twitter, and Facebook accounts, and no original content. Proceed to dub yourself the "King of Social Media".

Show up at the retailer show and hang out at The Drake Magazine booth all weekend, trying to pick up any leftover crumbs of coolness left on the show floor. Buy them all drinks at the bar after the show and then proceed to tell them why you're awesome and a better angler than all y'all combined. Bonus points for sniffing Mueller's aviator glasses.

Wax poetic about Mesopotamian culture with your streamside captives.

Write in your blog that you wax poetic about Mesopotamian culture.

Join the two-hander bandwagon craze. Swing intruders with a 16' spey rod on your fav spring creek. Tie up a bunch of articulated tube flies for those gnarly creek chubs.

Get decked out in Simms gear, but switch to Patagonia because things were getting too "political" on the Drake message board.

Proclaim yourself bigger than Jebus and Orvis, retreat to your mountain compound, and become a recluse pursuing stunted brookies and golden's with parr marks. You are your own island.

Actually support the Pebble Mine efforts: You need that bling for your diamond teeth so you can be just like Kanye.

Become a bass hater. Smallies are the new mountain whitefish.

Start calling carp "caprs" so everyone will think your an edgy hipster. Golden bonefish is so 2007.

Hot spot the shit out of your honey hole. GPS coordinates and Google Maps are even better. Get a story published in Fly Fisherman, American Angler, or Fly Rod & Reel about your favorite 6" brookie spot so you can have hordes of Orvis Boys hog your pool. Have a heli pad installed as well as a Starbucks kiosk streamside. Dean & Deluca caters lunch.

Have more Facebook friends than real life friends.

Elope with April Vokey.

Caveat Emptor: The roughfisher may be found guilty of several of the listed infractions.

Chaos

Trying to whittle down over a thousand flies into two boxes is always a chore. I'm down to about five hundred. Wish me luck.

roughfisher's vault 2010.08.05

Because I can...

Fuck you Right Wing America. This is my country too. Dog Bless....