A Fall From Grace

It has been a long time since I've held the reins and dug in the spurs. Life has been a distraction over the past year and it took me until recently to realize that I had lost my edge. Not for lack of skill or ability mind you, as even under the limited time I spent on the water last season I was still able to perform with my tool and succeed at fooling fish in difficult conditions when others had failed. Instead, as I withdrew from angling in order to deal with the demons on the domestic front, I've felt my grip slipping, my pulse within the fly fishing community become weaker.


Neglect a blog for a year and it is only natural that readers and viewership will drop off. With nary a reason for cause the abandonment began, perhaps many chalking it up to another typical fly fishing blog that faded away like a dying sun. Even while the screen lay dark with no new blog posts in weeks, I still stayed busy behind the tungsten curtain filling custom fly orders, perhaps the only thing that kept me from a descent into madness. The die-hard legions and crew have always held steadfast, even if unknowingly why. And an even smaller select few were actually privy to the depths of the chaos and turmoil. Yet, the need for a voice, an outlet for the roughfishermen, still exists. While I may have fallen from common conversation among the bloggers, the industry, or whomever else is responsible for creating buzz within the fly fishing community, it doesn't mean that I am down and out, or face down in the gutter.


I feel that I am just as valid as the day I started blogging about roughfish on the fly, perhaps even more so. In just the span of the last few years, I've watched the interest in carp on the fly grow, as well as become more acceptable to the mainstream. Not that myself, or anyone else who carp fishes for that matter, is looking for any validity from anyone. Maybe we're just the annoying kid in the back of the classroom that babbles on about everything about everything, including carp on the fly, in hopes that someone is listening. Regardless, it has become apparent that some are listening. Even during my unscheduled sabbatical, I was still getting inquiries from folks, and even a few compliments. I just want to say thank you to everyone out there who was listening.

I'm working on getting back my mojo, getting back to the top of my game. I'm not seeking fame. I'm not seeking fortune. I could care less if I'm any better known than I was a year ago. I could care less if I get published again. I could care less to see my face on the cover of a magazine or on the television screen. I just want to get back into my groove behind the vise and start producing those twisted patterns that helped earn me my success. If last year was the year of the Carp Crack, then this year will be the year of the Mustache Ride. I'm just looking to get back to where I was before I fell from grace. I'm not doing this for anyone except myself. After all, I'm just a guy who loves to fish.

Working Girls

Carpiodes cyprinus.


I love chasing quillback. They can be some of the most frustrating of the suckers to escort due to their extreme skittishness and finicky ways. To add to the proposition, a john typically finds harems of quillback working the street corners in skinny gin clear water. To say one must creep up on these spooks like an undercover vice agent is an understatement. I've always had to play it low-key, leaving the bling and drama at home and fishing small nymphs like brassies or copper johns. Don't be a playah! Quillback have a small inferior mouth so you can't just force it in with a large fly; you gotta be smooth if you want to party. These ladies finally gave in to the Fresh Pimp Nymph. Then again, a fresh pimp slap will subdue just about any ho.



I love getting fin....

New Year Carp

It might not be pretty or a monster, but I'm on the board for 2012. Plus this carp has an interesting color pattern around it's eye. It looks like it kicked back a few longnecks, got into a bar fight and got shived by some punk ass bottom feeding walleyes and needed stitches, leaving a pretty bad ass scar. This may be the local Tony Montana of the carp population.


The first carp of the new year came surprisingly early, merely days into the year. Of course, while winter carping is entirely possible, it is an anomaly around these parts due to sub freezing temperatures, snowpack, and subsequent inundation of shore and anchor ice. Not to mention that water temps below 39 degrees put the fish into an incredible funk, measurably reducing feeding activity. Nonetheless, this non-winter we've been experiencing up here in the Great Brown North provided a few obscenely warm 50 degree plus days in the dead of January. I'll take what I can get. Any day you can bring a carp on the fly to hand is a good day.

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas from the roughfisher! Hope Santa brings you what you'd been wanting! Unless, of course, you're like the majority of us who fish the brown line and are probably on Santa's naughty list, haha!
I guess we'll all find out in a few days... Happy Holidays!

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.