In this entry, I'll be reviewing the New
Streamside Guide to Naturals and Their Imitations, by Art Flick, with contributions by David
Klaustmeyer and Raymond R. Camp (Globe Pequot, 2007).
The first thing I noticed about this book when I spotted it on the shelves of my local Barnes & Noble was the surprisingly stark, featureless cover. Since entering the madness of fly fishing, I've noticed that the vast, vast majority of books about fly fishing feature beautiful covers, depicting fish, flies, fishermen, and rustic landscapes. In contrast, however, while this cover did feature a single photograph of a fisherman,
streamside, he was holding a book, not a
flyrod, and, excepting the photograph, the rest of the cover is a monotone gray. While this lack of flair may lose a few would-be readers, it actually was the very thing that caught my attention.
The book is fairly small and thin, due to its intention of being carried
streamside. For me, the book will probably stay at home, as I have all the
streamside grace of an intoxicated giraffe, and the book would probably end up as so much watery pulp, on its way to the gulf of
Mexico. On longer trips I may take it along, stored safely in a
ziplock bag, in the large back pouch of my vest, but for afternoon/evening trips, I'll keep it safely at home.
Between the covers, the book's 174 pages are divided into 20 chapters and change, in the form of a smattering of forewords, introductions, appendices, afterwords, and an index. The first few chapters are about the nature of dry fly fishing, and a pretty good explanation of the mayfly life cycle. There are also several chapters about other insect life, but the real meat and potatoes of this tome are the 9 chapters about individual species of mayfly.
Flick covers 9 major species of mayfly in great detail: the Quill Gordon, the
Hendrickson/Red Quill, the March Brown, the Grey Fox, the Light
Cahill, the Green Drake, the Dun Variant (
Isonychia), the Blue-winged Olive, and the Cream Variant (
Potamanthus). He explains how each of
these carries out its life processes and explains habits, appearances,
emergences, and peculiar tendencies of each. He even goes as far as to estimate the time of year, and even time of day, when anglers can expect to see the various hatches.
Flick also shares the patterns he uses to imitate these mayflies, and includes tips on how they are best fished. In a
separate chapter, he discusses the proper care and storage of dry flies as well.
For me, this book was exactly the sort I'd been looking for. While the information contained between its gray covers may be old news to experienced anglers, I'm really starting to explore the entomology aspect of fly fishing, and this book does a great job of helping to break down the general classification of 'mayfly' into the individual types that are commonly encountered
streamside, a subject that many seem hesitant to take on. Conversely, this book may be a little bit
too involved for truly novice fly anglers. The guy that
doesn't know the difference between a terrestrial and a
sculpin isn't really concerned with the reasons why a
Hendrickson and a Red Quill both imitate the same species, but in time, I think many novice fly fishermen will become interested enough in entomology to make this a worthwhile read. Even guys that pretty much know all of this may still benefit from having the key points condensed into one small, portable volume, not to mention the little tips and tricks, as well as the peculiar tone of
Flick's that make it read more like a letter and less like a text.
In summary, Art
Flick's New
Streamside Guide to Naturals and Their Imitations is a practical, approachable, and plainly-worded offering that will help any angler unlock the mysteries of the flies that fish feed on.
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Managed to get out to the Loyalhanna today for a few hours (from about 1:30 to a little after 5) more to remind myself that yes, there is water in there, and theoretically, at least, there are fish in there, and that yes, in theory they can be caught...though not necessarily by me.
Fished from the swinging bridge down past the blocks through the next set of riffles first. Met a guy fishing nymphs just above the bridge who said he'd just gotten there and already caught one. After we returned to our respective cars (he, for gloves, and I to get my rod strung up), he got back to the water much sooner, and by the time I got there, he said he'd just released another.
"Great", I thought, "at least they're here and feeding. That's all I can ask for. The rest is up to me."
So, morale at the high point for the day (I didnt know that at the time, else I'd have made the most of it), I waded out a good distance downstream of my new friend and proceeded to work a laser egg across the rocky ledges on the opposite bank. Funny how the guy couldnt keep fish off the hook when I was in the parking lot...but now the creek was deader than fried chicken for both of us for quite some time.
Eventually, I got a tangle, as I knew I would. There are certain things that I was never meant to do in this life, among them dancing, singing, playing basketball, bowling, and flycasting a weighted rig with an indicator. When I try I get every last centimeter of leader wrapped around my rod, usually in opposing directions. Today was no different. After an embarassing few minutes, I got myself untwisted, and ready to fish once again. As I tried to get my line ready for another cast, it lurched erratically, and just like that, I was thoroughly re-entangled.
After a little muttered french, I set to work on my new tangle. Eventually, this one proved too heinous, and I just cut the line, snipped the fly and started from scratch. Seeing I had about 6" of tippet left, I snipped that too and tied on a new length of 5X. (My hunt for a good brand of tippet continues to this day, but right now the only ones in my vest are two spools, both 5X, one of Rio PowerFlex and one of Orvis Super Strong, this time, I'd opted for the Orvis).
So after re-rigging, I took extra care to avoid a threepeat tangle and executed an admittedly ugly lob out into the main current. That drift went smooth enough, though pitifully briefly, before drag set in and I had to flip upstream. When I did, you can probably guess what happened. Yep, three hideous tangles for one short drift.
This was all my bruised ego could take, and with a little louder muttering, I said, "You know what? F*** this." and chopped off the whole rig in favor of a weighted bugger that I started casting like a champ.
The rest of the day wasnt much better either. Lost close to a dozen flies with not even a bite to show for it. Got at least a dozen more tangles once I switched back to eggs, including one that claimed my leader in the name of chaos. Finally, after a backcast that tore my fly from the tippet, I gave the star-crossed day the final 'F- this' and headed for the car.
I guess its days like this that let us really appreciate the days where we're head back to the car in complete darkness, with the same leader and fly we left with, having caught 10 or 20 fish in the mean time.
I'm determined to salvage the day though: in a little while I'll be haded out to a little place with the best selection of imports and microbrews in the area.
Tune in...soon...for a review of a book I just finished reading this week!
Today was such a beautiful day, I was determined to beat the prevailing conditions (lots of runoff plus a few good soaking rains), and find fishable water after work. Of course, knowing that there was fishing to be done, the clock on the wall went into slow motion, but by the time 3:30 rolled around, I was off like a shot.
After stopping at home to change and get my gear, I headed out to check the Loyalhanna. Luckily, Rte. 30 pretty much follows the course of the creek from about a quater mile east of Kingston dam all the way to Ligonier and beyond. Though you rarely get close enough to the water to determine depth, I've fished it enough to tell at a glance what its like (based on color, reference points, and choppiness of the water among other things). From Kingston, things weren't looking good. The color had calmed down a bit, from "YooHoo Brown" a day or two ago to "Watery Coffee". Not that beautiful teal green everyone loves, but the color would work well for fishing. Unfortunately, the water, regardless of color was still very much high and fast. Though I could have found somewhere to cast from shore, I wouldnt have many options anywhere on the creek. Thus I extended my journey, and swung north at Ligonier to check out a favorite stretch of Mill Creek.
A short time later, I pulled off into some soupy mud to see Mill Creek, also high...but maybe...just maybe...manageable in hip boots. Taking a walk a few hundred feet upstream didnt reveal much encouragement, but the same walk downstream led to a few fruitless drifts. While I would have liked to catch some fish, I still was just happy to be fishing, so I headed on downstream, only to find that most of the promising water was inaccessible, thanks to the high water. In contrast to the Loyalhanna, however, Mill Creek actually
did have that perfect semi-opaque teal green cast to it, at least in the pocket water and deeper holes. I'd venture a guess that without major rainfall, fishing conditions on Mill Creek might be near perfect by the weekend. Unfortunately, major rainfall is in the forecast. So, unsuccessful but encouraged, I snapped a few pictures, broke down my rod, and headed for more reliable water.
Mill Creek
After leaving Mill Creek, I headed back toward Latrobe. The family of a girl I used to date owns a small (less than 1 acre) pond that they've been gracious enough to allow me to fish for several years. The pond is fairly deep for such a small body of water (I'd estimate at least 12, probably more like 18-20 feet of water, with a fairly steep grade from the bank), and it is home to a healthy population of fat, fiesty bluegill and 12-18" bass. I think the bass may be a bit overcrowded, since 85% of them are between 14 and 15 inches, but there must be enough food to go around, because over the past 6 years, I have only caught one fish that wasn't healthy as a horse here, and that one was injured by scrapping with another fish, not from some disease.
The pond is well maintained, and gets a treatment to knock down the rampant weed growth two or three times a year, but the vegetation still manages to claim the pond in the name of plant-kind from mid-July to late September.
Today marked the first day that the pond was totally ice free. I caught a smallish bass a few days earlier through a large oval opening in the ice, but now the whole thing was open for business. Darkness was coming in fast tonight, thanks to incoming clouds (remember the major rainfall I talked about?), so I had to work fast. A sloppy cast relieved me of the purple woolly bugger I'd been using, so I tied on a white #8, weighted, and moved to the downwind bank.
Several unproductive casts later and I said to myself, "Self, it's getting pretty ugly out, lets make this the last cast."
So I made a great cast (for me), stripped in a few feet in short, erratic jerks, then tended to spooling up my slack line neatly on my reel. With the slack in, I went to reel the bugger in, when I felt resistance on the other end of the line. Without a moment of hesitation, I executed a soft-but-swift hookset and felt the familiar head shake of a largemouth bass connected to my bugger. A short, but well-appreciated battle, and I brought my first post-thaw fish to hand:
This 14" largemouth really made my day. As I released him and headed back for the car, I couldn't help but smile. For the first time in months: It's Fishing Season!
_
In this gear review, I'll be taking a look at the Battenkill Mid-Arbor III fly reel, made by Orvis. In the future I plan to provide several similar reviews, in order to provide you, the reader, with an unbiased, objective, third-party look at some of the gear I've had experience with and that you may be considering for purchase.
With this, and all subsequent reviews, you can be sure that I am not being sponsored by any sort of company, and I do not receive any sort of compensation for these reviews. At the same time, I dont mean to imply that my review is the only one you should read before making a purchase, I am simply informing you, the reader, of my experiences with the equipment in question.
As with all of my posts, I encourage any and all of my readers to respond with their questions and feedback by making a comment via the link attached to the bottom of every post.
Now, lets get on with the review:
Orvis Battenkill Mid-Arbor III Fly Reel
I knew I was in the market for a new reel as soon as I hooked my first great lakes steelhead.
The fresh-from-the-lake male grabbed the black woolly bugger I'd swung in front of his nose and proceeded to take off across Elk Creek, turning, running, and leaping at will. Though I knew that managing to hook a steelhead was only half the battle, I didnt realize until that moment just how evenly these fish are matched with the anglers who fish for them. Time after time, the fish would come within feet of me, only to race off again, seemingly tireless. Each time he ran, the drag on my starter-kit rod would sing, each time sounding a bit more hoarse.
By the time I'd landed the fish, the lump at th end of my flyrod had been demoted from "reel" to "line holder". The spool spun with equal ease in either direction, and made the same unpleasant scraping noise in either direction as well.
Thus, my hunt for a new reel began, to end, a month or so later, with an Orvis Battenkill Mid-Arbor III snug in my reel seat.
The BMA3 is a middle-of-the-road type of reel. While it's not the best money can buy, it's a far better reel than you'll get with any starter kit, or entry-level set up. If properly maintained, theres no reason to doubt that this reel will last decades, if not outlast the original purchaser.
The Orvis Battenkill Mid-Arbor III
Orvis markets the BMA3 as "the ideal preparation if unexpected big fish are a possibility", and in that, I believe their marketers are correct. For me, the budget-minded angler, this translated into "a reel that will be suitable for both steelhead in the Lake Erie tribs and trout, bass, and panfish in local streams and lakes". It retails for anywhere from $119 to $139 off-the rack and for me, it was worth it, as opposed to getting two reels, one for trout and one for steelhead, both for more than half the price of the BMA3. In addition, the reel comes with Orvis' excellent customer service, meaning the reel is guaranteed against defects for life. In addition, Orvis offers to clean, service, and lubricate their reels for $10. If well-maintained, it really might not be necessary, but it's nice to know I have that option. For saltwater anglers, this might be an appreciated perk.
Both the spool and housing are machined from 6061 bar stock aluminum, a grade of aluminum which is preferable for its properties of machinability as well as corrosion resistance. The handle is made of plastic, though it seems rugged, and in my opinion, preferable to wood in this application. It is also oblong, with textured gripping surfaces, making it easy to reel even with wet or fish-slimed hands.
The spool itself is removable and interchangeable, enabling the angler to switch from line to line while out on the water, and the mechanism for doing so is simple to operate. Just slide the lever to the side and pull the spool free. To attach a new spool, simply press it into place over the center pin until it clicks and youre good to go. The spool fits perfectly into the rim of the housing, and, when assembled, has no wobble or play to it.
At the base of this pin, mounted to the side of the main housing, is the drag, featuring "glass composite drag surfaces" according to Orvis. I wont claim to know all the ins and outs of what exactly is involved in a "glass composite drag surface" or how it compares to the myriad other drag systems available. All I can do is tell you about my experience with it, and as far as that goes, it has been a smooth reliable drag, whether set light to protect a light tippet in local streams, or tightened down a bit to wear out an energetic steelhead in the Lake Erie tributaries.
The drag is adjusted by turning a circular knob with a triangular grip, found in the center of the housing, opposite the spool and pin.
View of the back of the Battenkill Mid-Arbor III showing drag adjustment knob
As you turn the drag adjustment knob (also made of machined 6061 Aluminum), the drag knob "clicks" into preset notches, incrementally increasing or decreasing the amount of "pull" it takes to strip line off the spool. This is probably where I am least impressed by this reel. While it is truly "infinitely adjustable", I find that when setting the drag in the ideal range that most fly anglers would prefer, the drag passes through this range rather quickly, going from "too loose" to "too tight" in a matter of 5-10 clicks. Its not a deal breaker, however, as its simple to find the setting you want and leave it there, but I'd hoped for a little more fine-tuning in this department.
Last but not least, the reel is touted as being "easily switched from right to left hand retreive". While it is certainly possible to accomplish this feat in under 5 minutes, I wouldnt recommend trying it on the water (not that you would), or even in tall grass...or without at least a screwdriver. No, it isnt brain surgery (converting it is as simple as inverting the one-way bearing found just inside the center of the spool), but you'll need to pop out the small keeper ring that holds the bearing securely in the spool. Without a screwdriver, dental tool, pair of fine-tip needle nose pliers, or similar implement of destruction, you may be out of luck. For me, this wasnt a big deal. Though I do reel my fly rod in the traditional manner (with my right hand), I had no problems making the conversion myself, the night I brought it home. Furthermore, when I purchased it (from the ever-helpful Jim at Ligonier Outfitters), Jim offered to make the conversion for me, right there at the store, free of charge. I declined, being familiar with the procedure and liking to do things like that myself; but anyone who purchases this reel from an Orvis dealer could certainly request that the salesperson take care of this minor task for you.
The BMA3, disassembled, showing the one-way bearing and keeper ring inside the spool
So that's the technical end, now on to the good stuff: how did it
fish?!I will say that for a short time, the new reel messed up my casting. I'd become accustomed to the lightweight plastic reel that had come with my kit, and the aluminum reel, light as it was, still added sufficient weight to the butt of the rod to throw off the balance. Soon, however, I learned to cast even better than before, with the new reel attached. So if you're getting a new reel, balance is something you
definitely need to consider, especially on lighter rods.
In its first round of field testing, the Mid Arbor, outfitted with a proper amount of backing and a new Orvis Generation 3 Wonderline in WF5F (reviewed in a future installment) on the spool performed admirably. Reeling and stripping smoothly, with the advertised feature of reeling line in quicker than a standard arbor and reducing line curl. Most trout around here dont require the angler to 'get them on the reel', but a few did surprise me, and I welcomed the chance to try it out. With my drag set light, to protect my tippet, the reel gave the fish line only on the strongest runs, and enabled me to quickly and confidently bring many trout to net.
A few months later, I finally got the chance to give the drag a real workout, when I once again went toe-to-fin with a few great lakes steelhead. Once again, the reel was top-notch, giving the fish only the line required to preserve my tippet. Even at that, several of the powerful fish took off as if there was no drag at all, but unlike other times, they were quite tired after only a few runs.
I finally managed to push the reel to its limits in late December this year, taking it out in the snow and ice while fishing the Laurel Hill creek in Somerset County, Pennsylvania. Eventually, I took a bad step, and the reel took a quick dunking. Moments later, the water remaining in the reel froze in the single-digit temperatures. This rendered the drag more or less useless, and the ice that formed in the precisely machined rim of the spool prevented the reel from operating in either direction.
A bit worried, I popped off the spool and brushed the ice out with my fingers, then wiped the spool and housing with a clean, dry cloth. While there was still ice in it, the reel was back in action. A few hours later, I got back to the car. A 20 minute ride with the reel sitting disassembled on the passenger seat had it dry and operating at peak performance by the time I got to Indian Creek.
Well, that's my review of the Orvis Battenkill Mid-Arbor III fly reel. I'm not going to resort to any arbitraty stars or numeric scale to try to quantify what I've just written. I suppose, in summary, I'll say this:
The Orvis Battenkill Mid-Arbor is a true workhorse reel. It is rugged and versitaile, and offers superior performance for a fair price. If not abused, and given routine maintenance, it should last a long time.
We're having quite a heat wave here in southwestern Pennsylvania (temps in the 50s this weekend), so, like any good fisherman, I ventured out yesterday, searching for areas that the warm weather had opened up along some of my favorite creeks.
My first thought was that Mill Creek, being narrower, shallower, and generally faster running, would clear up faster than the Loyalhanna, so I headed out to Mill Creek. Unfortunately, when I got there, there was no open water at all where I normally access the stream. So, a little discouraged, I got back in the car and headed for the Loyalhanna. Luckily, I found some fishable water there.
After parking the car at the eastern end of the delayed-harvest-artificial-lures-only (hereafter abbreviated DHALO) section of the stream, I decided to scout around before donning hip boots, vest, and net; as well as assembling and stringing up my rod; only to find out that it too was unfishable.
So I walked down along the upper 100 yards of the DHALO, and what I saw wasn't encouraging: while free flowing mid-stream, ice clinging to both banks prevented safe access to the water:
Since the best looking stretch of open water was just downstream of the Rte. 711 bridge, I decided to check upstream from the bridge, and was rewarded to this wonderful sight:
So I headed back to the car and traded shoes for hip boots, slipped into the vest, and rigged up my 5 weight, and headed down to the stream.
I didnt catch any fish with the white woolly bugger (sz. 8) I was using, but it felt good to be casting again. I found that my casting skills hadn't suffered much in the off-season, and perhaps even improved a tiny bit by some inexplicable means. Though It could have been my imagination, it seemed as though I was casting farther and throwing tighter loops than I was at the end of last year.
In any event, I fished the 75 yards or so of ice free water above the bridge, then jumped back in the car and headed downstream to check the downstream boundary of the DHALO.
When I arrived at the bridge where SR2045 crosses the Loyalhanna, I once again took a walk before stringin up my rod. In this case, I was glad I did. The ice down here still made safe access totally impossible:
View from the SR2045 bridge, facing east (upstream)
View from the SR2045 bridge, facing west (downstream)
After heading back to the car, I drove down to the causeway, to check out the ice jam that had been forming there for the past several weeks. It had been a topic of discussion on the
FishUSA Forums in a thread complete with pictures, so I figured I'd take a look for myself. When I arrived, however, I saw that apparently someone had come and cleared out the majority of the ice, and the causeway was now actually driveable:
As you can see, there's still some ice piled up, but its nowhere near the amount that was there even a week ago. There was no fishing to be done here, due to the rushing water, but I decided to snap a few more photos before I left:
View from the center of the causeway facing east (upstream)
View from the center of the causeway, facing west (downstream)
With my pictures snapped, I got back in the car and headed down to Kingston dam, where I fished a little more. Most of the best fishing here is compromised by ice and/or fast flowing water, but just before I left, I started heading downstream, where there looks to be more open water. Along the way, while driving alongside the slackwater above the dam, I could see where all the ice from the causeway had gone. For about a half-mile above the dam, the entire creek looks like a glacier, with huge chunks of ice packed tight against one another, bank to bank. I didnt take any pictures, though, as I was driving, and there werent any pull-offs with a view of the ice jam.
Well, that's all for now. I'm going to be headed out fishing again this afternoon, and I'll make another post for this outing. No fly pattern for this entry (I only used a white bugger, a simple tie by any tyer's standards), but maybe I'll include one next time.
Feel free to comment or ask questions.
I guess that's not always true. Some flies really do just go horribly wrong and you have no recourse but to get out your X-acto, strip the hook and start over. I usually like to toss the non-hook wreckage into the trash with a satisfying flourish and a few choice words.
But if the fly is still structurally sound, and its more of an attractor than an imitator, I'm of the camp that says you might as well keep it and try it...you may have just created the next big thing.
As you may have guessed, I'm posting this because I just did this same thing a few nights ago while trying to teach myself to spin hair. I'd scrapped 3 flies that night by overcrowding the eye, and each time, I'd do it again. Finally, in frustration, I tried spinning the hair first, mid-shank, just to see how it'd work.
Well it worked great and once I saw how nice it looked, I decided to build a ridiculous, brightly colored streamer around it. The resultant fly looked cool, like it would catch fish, so I plan to fish it the next time I think its appropriate. It may already be a standard pattern I'm not familiar with too, so if this turns out to be your original pattern, let me know.
Trip MinnowHook: 4x long streamer hook, Mustad 79580 or equivalent
Thread: Black 3/0
Tail: Fl. Orange Marabou
Body: Gold mylar tinsel
Head: Spun Deer Hair, dyed Fl. Chartreuse
Wing: Black bucktail w/ 4-10 strands of krystal flash.
Beard: Red bucktail
This may catch nothing, or it might be the next big thing. I encourage anyone to give it a try! I'll be using it in murky water.
I figure as a good way to start talking about my fishing experiences, I'll tell you about what was probably the most rewarding fish I caught all of last year. It wasn't the biggest fish, on the best day, or even in a new location. What made this fish rewarding was two things: one, it was the first fish that I caught on a fly that I had tied; and two, it was my first and only (to date) tiger trout.
I was fishing Mill Creek that day, as I'd heard rumors of guys catching some trout there despite the heat that had been keeping the trout in the Loyalhanna down deep and totally uninterested in eating. I was working downstream, only bothering to fish deeper pools and pocket water, as the shallow areas were too warm to be attractive to trout, but even at that, it was shaping up to be a typical day for a new fly fisherman: no runs, no hits, and about a million errors.
I was just choosing flies at random, tying a new one on whenever I lost the one before that up until that day. The evening before, however, I was talking to Rich in his fly shop, and he suggested sticking to ants, beetles, hoppers, and buggers for these hot summer days. So I bought a few of his ants and beetles along with a griffith's gnat that appealed to my fancy, and headed home to tie some buggers. By the time I put my boot in the water the next morning, I was armed with a box consisting of the flies I'd purchased from Rich and about 15 wooly buggers, in varying styles (all showing the sloppy roughness of a beginner tyer), in black, white, and olive.
By the time I got to my first really nice pool, I'd lost about a half dozen flies and was now tossing a modified olive wooly bugger with a front body made of a series of purplish glass beads. A friend and fellow fly fisherman named Mark had shown me this tie, and said that the guy who showed him claimed it imitated a baby trout. While that may be so, I wasnt sure if a hatchery fish would even connect the thought "baby trout" with the thought "food". Still, it was neat looking and easy to tie, so I did a few of them up that still managed to look like crap due to my being a beginner.
So I took my baby trout and tossed it to the tail of this pool, and as I stripped it back to me, around a submerged stump, a dark shape darted out, almost too fast to realize what it was, and disappeared again, with my fly! A good strong battle and a few tense, long, moments later, and I brought my first tiger to shore:
After posing for its photo shoot (just this one picture), this fish was released to fight another day.
For anyone curious, the Tiger Trout is a sterile hybrid of a male brook trout and a female brown trout. You can read more about them here:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tiger_trouthttp://tigertroutfishing.com/http://ezinearticles.com/?Fly-Fishing-For-the-Elusive-Tiger-Trout&id=1668954Finally, that baby trout bugger:
Hook: Mustad 79580 or equivalent, sz. 6-10
Thread: 6/0 (140 Denier) in Black or Olive
Head: 3-5 glass beads, pearlescent purple
Body: olive medium chenille
Tail: Olive Grizzly Marabou (4-8 strands of gray krystal flash optional)
Hackle: Olive or black streamer hackle, wound either from the head, or from the beginning of the chenille.
Not a difficult tie by any means, but that's what caught the tiger!
Hello blogosphere!
My name's Mark, I'm a 20-somethings fisherman living in southwestern Pennsylvania. In Tailing Loops, my first blog, I plan to write about the time I spend on the water, in pursuit of trout, bass, perch, pike, steelhead, and any other fish the area has to offer. Along the way, I may (hell, I plan to) stray well off the beaten path, after all, that's where most of the best fishing is! There will be posts about everything from fish to music, sports, friends, beer, and day-to-day life, but I'll do my best to keep the focus primarily on fishing.
Well, that's it for the moment. With the streams frozen, I haven't been fishing in almost a month, but I have been doing some fly tying, so my first few entries will probably be about that.
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In this entry, I'll be reviewing the New Streamside Guide to Naturals and Their Imitations, by Art Flick, with contributions by David Klaustmeyer and Raymond R. Camp (Globe Pequot, 2007).
