Saturday, October 10, 2009
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Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Humbling Experience
I was introduced to the long rod at an early age, my dad use to take me trout fishing and we would use Shakespeare Wonder Rods rigged with a night crawler. Over the years I progressed to using flies, and various techniques to catch my quarry . Eventually I was tying my own flies and matching the hatch. Most of my experience came from the high country headwaters of the Southern Appalachians.
Fast forward some fifteen years and I have a wealth of knowledge, so I think. I have fished my way through Central and South America, caught everything from Tarpon to Bonefish to Blue Gill on the fly. I have taken up tailwater fishing with vengeance, and at one point owned three drift boats. One would think that with all these experiences that most anything would come easy by now. So where am I going with this you ask? Well this is where I bring up the Redfish. The Redfish is one of many game fish on my list to seduce with a fly.
Fast forward once again to September 2009. My fishing amigo Frodo and I link up with the El Capitan Jason Reiger of Skinny Water Charters for some redfish action somewhere in Georgia. We headed out with visions of Redfish in our heads. This will be Frodo's first redfishing trip and my second. So we are complete beginners to say the least.
Ten minutes into day one I was on the rod and Captain Jason spots a tailer. One O'clock moving left to right cast, cast, cast. I cast and it lands a little short. Captain Jason says 5 more feet and you will be on. I cast a little to the left. Captain Jason then says he's stopped, give him a minute. So I sit with anticipation. Finally Jason says cast, hes moving again, 30 feet at one o'clock. Boom, I fire a cast. Jason says strip, strip he sees it. I give two fast strips and this triggers the redfish to attack. The fish with his back exposed traveled some three feet splashing water with his tail. He slams the fly like Dave slams a Snikers Bar, I strip set and with a violent turn he rips through the Spartina grass. Before I know it the line goes limp, my heart is pounding, and we are all screaming. What the fuck happened you ask? We forgot the shock tippet, so when this 7 pounder slammed the fly and rushed off the 10 pound tippet folded like Tito Ortiz in his fight against Chuck Lidell.
Needless to say, the rest of the trip went like the first ten minutes. Cast, Cast, he's moving left to right, right to left, strip, stop, damn it, son of a bitch, fuck, what the fuck, lets change flies, damn the tides. It seemed the hurricane that recently moved up the coast had the water temps frigged up and the fish were not looking at our flies, it seemed they were feeding before the grass was completely flooded, and were full by the time we got there. Maybe the first fish was a special one or something. I mean Capt. Jason has his stuff dialed in, and knows those flats and fish. Although there was a lack of fish, the scenery more than made up for it. We saw black-tip sharks, dolphins, sting-rays and many types of birds.
It seems I have found my Achilles Heal, the " Redfish". To be such an opportunistic feeder, sometime stupid, they have truly humbled me. It was like hunting more so than fishing. It was like I was in a tree stand waiting on that buck to walk into view. I have learned that no matter how dialed you think you are, there is always something that will bring you to your knees (and no not for that you dirty minded scoundrels ). Now I have a personal vendetta for the redfish. Once I get off my lazy ass, I will post some of the tailing footage I filmed.
If you ever find yourself in the Savannah, Ga area and want to chase some reds in an untapped fisherie, give brother Jason a call. His knowledge of the area is second to none.
Ryan
Fast forward some fifteen years and I have a wealth of knowledge, so I think. I have fished my way through Central and South America, caught everything from Tarpon to Bonefish to Blue Gill on the fly. I have taken up tailwater fishing with vengeance, and at one point owned three drift boats. One would think that with all these experiences that most anything would come easy by now. So where am I going with this you ask? Well this is where I bring up the Redfish. The Redfish is one of many game fish on my list to seduce with a fly.
Fast forward once again to September 2009. My fishing amigo Frodo and I link up with the El Capitan Jason Reiger of Skinny Water Charters for some redfish action somewhere in Georgia. We headed out with visions of Redfish in our heads. This will be Frodo's first redfishing trip and my second. So we are complete beginners to say the least.
Ten minutes into day one I was on the rod and Captain Jason spots a tailer. One O'clock moving left to right cast, cast, cast. I cast and it lands a little short. Captain Jason says 5 more feet and you will be on. I cast a little to the left. Captain Jason then says he's stopped, give him a minute. So I sit with anticipation. Finally Jason says cast, hes moving again, 30 feet at one o'clock. Boom, I fire a cast. Jason says strip, strip he sees it. I give two fast strips and this triggers the redfish to attack. The fish with his back exposed traveled some three feet splashing water with his tail. He slams the fly like Dave slams a Snikers Bar, I strip set and with a violent turn he rips through the Spartina grass. Before I know it the line goes limp, my heart is pounding, and we are all screaming. What the fuck happened you ask? We forgot the shock tippet, so when this 7 pounder slammed the fly and rushed off the 10 pound tippet folded like Tito Ortiz in his fight against Chuck Lidell.
Needless to say, the rest of the trip went like the first ten minutes. Cast, Cast, he's moving left to right, right to left, strip, stop, damn it, son of a bitch, fuck, what the fuck, lets change flies, damn the tides. It seemed the hurricane that recently moved up the coast had the water temps frigged up and the fish were not looking at our flies, it seemed they were feeding before the grass was completely flooded, and were full by the time we got there. Maybe the first fish was a special one or something. I mean Capt. Jason has his stuff dialed in, and knows those flats and fish. Although there was a lack of fish, the scenery more than made up for it. We saw black-tip sharks, dolphins, sting-rays and many types of birds.
It seems I have found my Achilles Heal, the " Redfish". To be such an opportunistic feeder, sometime stupid, they have truly humbled me. It was like hunting more so than fishing. It was like I was in a tree stand waiting on that buck to walk into view. I have learned that no matter how dialed you think you are, there is always something that will bring you to your knees (and no not for that you dirty minded scoundrels ). Now I have a personal vendetta for the redfish. Once I get off my lazy ass, I will post some of the tailing footage I filmed.
If you ever find yourself in the Savannah, Ga area and want to chase some reds in an untapped fisherie, give brother Jason a call. His knowledge of the area is second to none.
Ryan
Humbling Experience
I was introduced to the long rod at an early age, my dad use to take me trout fishing and we would use Shakespeare Wonder Rods rigged with a night crawler. Over the years I progressed to using flies, and various techniques to catch my quarry . Eventually I was tying my own flies and matching the hatch. Most of my experience came from the high country headwaters of the Southern Appalachians.
Fast forward some fifteen years and I have a wealth of knowledge, so I think. I have fished my way through Central and South America, caught everything from Tarpon to Bonefish to Blue Gill on the fly. I have taken up tailwater fishing with vengeance, and at one point owned three drift boats. One would think that with all these experiences that most anything would come easy by now. So where am I going with this you ask? Well this is where I bring up the Redfish. The Redfish is one of many game fish on my list to seduce with a fly.
Fast forward once again to September 2009. My fishing amigo Frodo and I link up with the El Capitan Jason Reiger of Skinny Water Charters for some redfish action somewhere in Georgia. We headed out with visions of Redfish in our heads. This will be Frodo's first redfishing trip and my second. So we are complete beginners to say the least.
Ten minutes into day one I was on the rod and Captain Jason spots a tailer. One O'clock moving left to right cast, cast, cast. I cast and it lands a little short. Captain Jason says 5 more feet and you will be on. I cast a little to the left. Captain Jason then says he's stopped, give him a minute. So I sit with anticipation. Finally Jason says cast, hes moving again, 30 feet at one o'clock. Boom, I fire a cast. Jason says strip, strip he sees it. I give two fast strips and this triggers the redfish to attack. The fish with his back exposed traveled some three feet splashing water with his tail. He slams the fly like Dave slams a Snikers Bar, I strip set and with a violent turn he rips through the Spartina grass. Before I know it the line goes limp, my heart is pounding, and we are all screaming. What the fuck happened you ask? We forgot the shock tippet, so when this 7 pounder slammed the fly and rushed off the 10 pound tippet folded like Tito Ortiz in his fight against Chuck Lidell.
Needless to say, the rest of the trip went like the first ten minutes. Cast, Cast, he's moving left to right, right to left, strip, stop, damn it, son of a bitch, fuck, what the fuck, lets change flies, damn the tides. It seemed the hurricane that recently moved up the coast had the water temps frigged up and the fish were not looking at our flies, it seemed they were feeding before the grass was completely flooded, and were full by the time we got there. Maybe the first fish was a special one or something. I mean Capt. Jason has his stuff dialed in, and knows those flats and fish. Although there was a lack of fish, the scenery more than made up for it. We saw black-tip sharks, dolphins, sting-rays and many types of birds.
It seems I have found my Achilles Heal, the " Redfish". To be such an opportunistic feeder, sometime stupid, they have truly humbled me. It was like hunting more so than fishing. It was like I was in a tree stand waiting on that buck to walk into view. I have learned that no matter how dialed you think you are, there is always something that will bring you to your knees (and no not for that you dirty minded scoundrels ). Now I have a personal vendetta for the redfish. Once I get off my lazy ass, I will post some of the tailing footage I filmed.
If you ever find yourself in the Savannah, Ga area and want to chase some reds in an untapped fisherie, give brother Jason a call. His knowledge of the area is second to none.
Ryan
Fast forward some fifteen years and I have a wealth of knowledge, so I think. I have fished my way through Central and South America, caught everything from Tarpon to Bonefish to Blue Gill on the fly. I have taken up tailwater fishing with vengeance, and at one point owned three drift boats. One would think that with all these experiences that most anything would come easy by now. So where am I going with this you ask? Well this is where I bring up the Redfish. The Redfish is one of many game fish on my list to seduce with a fly.
Fast forward once again to September 2009. My fishing amigo Frodo and I link up with the El Capitan Jason Reiger of Skinny Water Charters for some redfish action somewhere in Georgia. We headed out with visions of Redfish in our heads. This will be Frodo's first redfishing trip and my second. So we are complete beginners to say the least.
Ten minutes into day one I was on the rod and Captain Jason spots a tailer. One O'clock moving left to right cast, cast, cast. I cast and it lands a little short. Captain Jason says 5 more feet and you will be on. I cast a little to the left. Captain Jason then says he's stopped, give him a minute. So I sit with anticipation. Finally Jason says cast, hes moving again, 30 feet at one o'clock. Boom, I fire a cast. Jason says strip, strip he sees it. I give two fast strips and this triggers the redfish to attack. The fish with his back exposed traveled some three feet splashing water with his tail. He slams the fly like Dave slams a Snikers Bar, I strip set and with a violent turn he rips through the Spartina grass. Before I know it the line goes limp, my heart is pounding, and we are all screaming. What the fuck happened you ask? We forgot the shock tippet, so when this 7 pounder slammed the fly and rushed off the 10 pound tippet folded like Tito Ortiz in his fight against Chuck Lidell.
Needless to say, the rest of the trip went like the first ten minutes. Cast, Cast, he's moving left to right, right to left, strip, stop, damn it, son of a bitch, fuck, what the fuck, lets change flies, damn the tides. It seemed the hurricane that recently moved up the coast had the water temps frigged up and the fish were not looking at our flies, it seemed they were feeding before the grass was completely flooded, and were full by the time we got there. Maybe the first fish was a special one or something. I mean Capt. Jason has his stuff dialed in, and knows those flats and fish. Although there was a lack of fish, the scenery more than made up for it. We saw black-tip sharks, dolphins, sting-rays and many types of birds.
It seems I have found my Achilles Heal, the " Redfish". To be such an opportunistic feeder, sometime stupid, they have truly humbled me. It was like hunting more so than fishing. It was like I was in a tree stand waiting on that buck to walk into view. I have learned that no matter how dialed you think you are, there is always something that will bring you to your knees (and no not for that you dirty minded scoundrels ). Now I have a personal vendetta for the redfish. Once I get off my lazy ass, I will post some of the tailing footage I filmed.
If you ever find yourself in the Savannah, Ga area and want to chase some reds in an untapped fisherie, give brother Jason a call. His knowledge of the area is second to none.
Ryan
CHummers
Down South makes the CHUM! Our blogging idols over at moldy chum gave us some good publicity in the fly fishing world.
http://www.moldychum.com/home-old/2009/9/16/down-south.html
BRM loves a good slice of fried moldy CHUM. Like a tight fitting banana hammock.
http://www.moldychum.com/home-old/2009/9/16/down-south.html
BRM loves a good slice of fried moldy CHUM. Like a tight fitting banana hammock.
Hippity Hop Goes the Hopper
Oh Kids. It has been quite the week for you friend nymph-o. The highlights include Labor Day weekend in Atlanta, which means that I spent about two days on the interstate cursing the ill fate that brought me to that concrete jungle in the first place. I also threw the annual swine sacrifice fundraiser for my local TU and managed to raise a few grand to keep our cold water's cold and clean, oh yeah and did I mention the boys and I spent two days in N. Georgia filming the sickest terrestrial fishing this nymph has ever dreamed about on the East Coast? I didn't mention that? Well shit, I suppose that would make as good a blog post as anything else I could pull out of my ass today.
I won't bore you with all the details of the trip because I don't want to ruin the video we are making from the trip, but we all caught and landed multiple fish over twenty inches, with Ryan proving once again that there is no rhyme or reason as to why good things happen to bad people hoisting two over twenty five inches.
All but a few of the fish landed were taken on top with size 8 or bigger hoppers, beetles, and ants. That my friends is sicky, sicky, gnar, gnar any way you add it up.
- Nymph-o
A few weeks ago a new friend of ours, Capt. Kent Klewein (I believe he is a Captain much like Captain Kangaroo only with out all the alcoholism and child molesting...well at least the molesting part), called up and invited us down to shoot some film on what was supposed to be the best river for hopper fishing anywhere east of the Mississippi. The name of the creek is Noontootlah Creek. At first I thought Noontootlah had way too many o's in it, but I looked past my "o" caused anxiety, packed the truck up and headed out, for what turned out to be some of the best fishing any red blooded fly flinger could hope for.
Before you boys get out the Georgia gazetteer and start planning a Sherman like march to Georgia, this river is strictly pay to play. I am not a man that frequents the various trophy private water's our area has to offer, as I am of meager means (I do, however, where tweeds, use silk line, and only fish upstream with a dry fly) and these waters are not something that I can pass off to my wife as necessary spending. Due to my not atypical socioeconomic situation I have always looked at the guys who fish private waters exclusively as the sort of folks who would hand me there car keys at the hotel assuming I am the valet and then expect me to park their Jag. This usually results in a wild night of me stunt driving a Jag. I have not been a fan of private water guys. After two days on Noontootlah I plan on getting a fourth job in order to fish this creek as much as humanly possible. See, these private water guys aren't only rich but they are also smarter than you and me. Who needs to put up with the bullshit of dealing with tubers, bait chuckers, poachers, swamp things, and wookies on public waters when you can pony up your hard (or not so hard..whatever the case may be) earned loot and fish to trout that see a tenth of the pressure and have the whole creek to yourself. At Noontootlah Creek Farms this also means fishing to trout up to 30" with 80% of the population being wild. If this isn't enough to make you wanna throw up your nose at public water, they also love to eat huge foam.
These facts have seriously made me consider changing my name to Robin Leach, tattooing, "...champagne dreams, and caviar wishes," on my ass and calling it a day.
I won't bore you with all the details of the trip because I don't want to ruin the video we are making from the trip, but we all caught and landed multiple fish over twenty inches, with Ryan proving once again that there is no rhyme or reason as to why good things happen to bad people hoisting two over twenty five inches.
All but a few of the fish landed were taken on top with size 8 or bigger hoppers, beetles, and ants. That my friends is sicky, sicky, gnar, gnar any way you add it up.
Till next time,
- Nymph-o
Down South Video Teaser
New Bent Rod Media Video Teaser!!!!! Thanks again to Capt Kent Klewein of Reel Job Fishing for a great trip.
MORE COMMING SOON!!!
Click the Picture to Watch the Video in High Definition!!!!!!!!!
**BayE**
MORE COMMING SOON!!!
Click the Picture to Watch the Video in High Definition!!!!!!!!!
**BayE**
Nanner Boat
Finally the Day came to put the Nanner Boat on the water. What the hell is a Nanner boat? Creek Company Pontoon Boat Around 2 pm I gave my dad a call because once again Mitch pulled the proverbial wool over my eyes and danced around lauch times. So the old man and I loaded up the trucks and headed for the West Fork. We floated roughly 4 miles in a little under 5 hrs. Flows were low in places and the Nanner was loaded down with gear (beer) and 500 pounds of Homo Sapiens. Still we were able to draft in a little less than a foot of water. Maneuvers like a sports car and gets up on a plane in 2 strokes of the oars. Anchor system is kinda cheap from those I've used and seen used before but it works and thats all that matters. There is storage everywhere in the boat and 2 dry lockers. I do need to raise the rowers seat about a foot and put swivels on both seats. A bigger anchor or anchor bag, rod holder and a spare oar. So if any of you "Sponsors" out there want to get your name of the side of the boat, fork over the dough and I'll sticker that yellow bitch up like a Nextel cup car.
The fishing was slow since the old man doesn't fish much. We or he did manage to boat 20, 15 smallies and 5 rockies. We saw plenty of wildlife. Turtles, carp, suckers, gar, bass, blue herons, deer, damsel flies everywhere and plenty of hillbillies. I cannot describe, especially since in left the camera in the truck, how beautiful the west fork is. Well it's beautiful from a distance. There are sections on the stream that do not even look anything like the west fork. Amazing.
It was a good maiden voyage of the Nanner. I found things I needed and things I need to change. No one fell out and nothing was broke, lost or injured. Except a few beer cans. Until next time my fishing friends . **BayE**
The fishing was slow since the old man doesn't fish much. We or he did manage to boat 20, 15 smallies and 5 rockies. We saw plenty of wildlife. Turtles, carp, suckers, gar, bass, blue herons, deer, damsel flies everywhere and plenty of hillbillies. I cannot describe, especially since in left the camera in the truck, how beautiful the west fork is. Well it's beautiful from a distance. There are sections on the stream that do not even look anything like the west fork. Amazing.
It was a good maiden voyage of the Nanner. I found things I needed and things I need to change. No one fell out and nothing was broke, lost or injured. Except a few beer cans. Until next time my fishing friends . **BayE**
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