I just read a short
write-up about the World Fly Fishing Championships over at PAFlyFish.com, and was interested to note that for a tournament held in Scotland, the native Scots, fishing their home waters, were bested by both the Brits and the French. It got me to thinking about the whole notion of "home waters" and how it might or might not matter in the taking of fish on any given day. Sure, you get to know the subtlelities of each riffle and pool, as well as how the fish tend to respond in certain circumstances. If you're really into it, you may know of specific insects that hatch there and the little things you can do at the tying bench to better match them. But on any single day (or series of days, as evinced by the Championships here), what determines whether this day will be a learning experience, or a day to reap the benefits of past learning days (of few fish)?
Also, it makes me realize just how much a "good day" is a relative thing, even in terms of catching, with all notions of "getting out of the office" and "reconnecting with nature" as side benefits. When I go to one of the two trout streams I hit most often (I feel I'm still too new into fly fishing to have true "home waters"), a true good day in terms of catching usually sees me land at least 2-3 trout, depending onhow long I stay out. For me, its not about catching huge numbers of trout, but catching, for me, certainly is a part of it.
Now that I'm starting to use dries, I'm missing a lot more strikes...or maybe I'm missing the same amount of strikes, but now I just notice it. Either way, each refusal and missed strike, at this point, is as encouraging as it is frustrating. On one hand, yes, I've failed to connect with yet another fish, failed to put it all together with a good cast, drag free drift, line mends, slack management, hookset, etc. Somewhere along the line, I failed to get things just right and the result was a fish that didn't come to the net. On the other hand, each refusal and missed take is an encouragement to me, because it shows me I've at least got something right. A refusal usually means that presentation, the approach, cast, and drift, were satisfactory, acceptable if not great, but the fly itself was objectionable to the fish in some way. A missed take means, usually, that either I was allowing too much slack, or wasn't paying attention. Either way, it shows I'm slowly but surely learning.
But getting back to the tournament...why is it that the fish have a knack for putting us in our place? (Apparently, for the Scots, that place is third place.) I've heard it said, simply, that, "The fish are always right." And I believe that describes the tournament situation better than any analysis anyone could give. For whatever reason, the fish liked the offerings of the other fishermen better than those of the Scots. Its the same reason a fish will ignore, or even dodge away from, the lovingly rendered flawless imitation of the most prolific nymph in the stream, only to rise to a #12 royal wulff or clamp onto a hot pink wooly bugger. Its why fish consistently confound scientist and anglers alike who preach that each time a trout feeds, its a careful calculation, balancing calorie intake versus calorie burn...until they start ignoring the plentiful nymphs and charging across the stream and leaping into the air for emergers. It's why, on any given day, the rank amateur has a truly plausible chance at showing up the seasoned vet. Why, although we can get damn good at this, noone's yet mastered it. And ultimately, the quest to hook a few more is what hooks us in return, and keeps us coming back for more.
Though a bottle of fine scotch whisky and those two ladies in the plaid skirts make a pretty good incentive too..
This morning I made the drive up, farther than I normally go for trout, to the Little Mahoning creek in northern Indiana County. I was meeting J, a friend from both a previous fishing adventure in Erie as well as the vast melting pot we call the internet. He's both an extremely knowledgeable trout fisherman and an extremely talented writer who shares many of his adventures with anyone who cares to read
his blog.
Recently, I've become interested in tackling dry fly fishing, and, along with several others on the
FishUSA boards, J has stepped up and offered all sorts of valuable tips and suggestions. His offer to join him on the Little M was eagerly accepted. As I made my way up Rte. 119 my excitement grew, until i reached the stream, where I noticed J's motorcycle parked in the gravel between the road and the stream. Quickly, I parked, got out, and started donning my gear, thankful that I had my 3 wt. already strung up, riding VIP-style in the passenger seat for the trip this morning.
After i had my waders and vest situated, I got back in the front of the car for the pair of #18 para-sulphurs I'd tied the night before. (Which, by the way, looked damn fine for a first attempt at a #18 parachute tie, if I do say so myself...). I checked the passenger seat, the cupholder, the center console...even the glove compartment. Rats! No sulphurs! Suddenly, in my mind's eye, I could see the otherwise empty Dai-riki hook box, sitting all alone on my tying desk. With a sigh and a mental shrug, I abandoned the thought of using the little yellow flies today. Retrieving my rod from the car, I noted that in my excitement, I'd totally neglected to even open the lid of the coffee I'd brought along, a rarity indeed for this caffeine junky.
As I finished donning the armor of a fly angler, the man across the stream (who I'd already seen bringing a trout to hand) called out, "You wouldn't happen to be Mark, would you?"
"That's me", I replied, figuring that this was probably J, who I'd only ever met once before.
A pause, then, "Cold, right?", a nickname I have gone by on websites across the internet for years.
"Yup."
"Get down here, man! They're all over the place, and they're rising!"
Even more excited, I made my way over, and after a brief, no-nonsense greeting, we got to the task at hand. The fish were active, and more "stacked up" that I was used to seeing. Feeding, but managing to be choosy just the same. I got several tips and suggestions and a few flies (which I tucked away to use as patterns), and managed to raise a few fish, but missed the few that actually took. After some time, J headed off downstream. I fished the tail of the pool to let him get a good lead on me, then slowly followed, taking a drift through any water that looked promising. At one point, something rose to my parachute adams, just enough to disturb its downstream voyage and make a few ripples. It didnt sink the fly, but it was definitely a fish. A few drifts later, the fly went under and I set the hook. All at once, I felt the weight of a fish...barely. The tiny 2" minnow came out of the water behind line, leader, and fly as I set the hook...landing at my feet. With a little disappointment, I freed the little guy and continued on, eventually meeting back up with J at a nice, deep little pool.
"There's two real nice ones in there.", came the greeting of a true fisherman, as he crouched beside the pool, throwing some sort of light colored nymph into the head of the pool, "Here."
J offered his polarized glasses which helped me realize that the two dark-colored "rocks" in the back of the pool were actually large trout. At first I thought they were motionless, but little by little, I noticed them working the bottom, though not nearly as active as the mess of trout sharing the pool with them, feeding higher in the water.
After a few moments, he instructed me to cover the lower half of the pool, showing me the albino nymph he was using and giving me one of my own to try. I seemed to be getting more attention by swinging my albino nymph rather than drifting, so I went with it, and soon had 3-4 energetic browns nipping at my offering as it crossed in front of them.
Finally, one, braver than the rest, darted forward and bit hard.
"All right!", I exclaimed, letting J know I had one on. Soon after, I brought a 14" brown to the net.
We continued to fish that hole for some time, J hooking up with several fish, before finally, he had to head out. He gave me a second albino nymph, just in case, and headed back toward his bike.
As for me, I felt certain I could persuade at least one more fish in this pool, so I stuck around, continuing to work the albino nymph, with a small piece of shot a few inches up the line. Every few swings through the pool would attract a crowd of interested, but hesitant trout.
Finally I decided to drift it straight into them rather than swinging past. Just before it got there, however, a large dark form rose and intercepted the nymph purposefully and without flair. CHOMP! In disbelief, I set the hook and the battle was on!
The big fish gave me the obligiatory head shake then pulled me purposefully into deeper water. He was headed upstream, so I just maintained constant pressure and let him fight the current. At the top of the pool, he gave another head shake, then tried to nose into slower water on the opposite shore. With a fish like this on a light rod, I used a few bits of wisdom learned from steelhead fishing, where you want to make the fish fight you AND the current, and not give him a rest to regain energy, otherwise he'll fight all day. Using what backbone my 3 weight offered against such a large fish, I got his nose into the faster water, which got him once again swimming hard, this time toward me.
I stripped in line as he got to my side, but then he saw me moving and then he showed me a whole new set of gears. He als showed me a good side view, and it was then that I saw some markings that made this a special fish indeed: the worm-like pattern of a tiger trout.
Before I could dwell on it too much, though, he darted downstream fast as a fish half his size, and it was then that I realized that from stripping, I had a pile of slack! Bad move, Mark!
With the best approximation of drag I could muster with my hands, I gave the fish line, and even took half a step at following him downstream. Just then, he turned back into the pool and dove deep and I raised my rod tip accordingly. While he was down, I took the change to furiously reel in the slack at my arms and finally get this fish "on the reel". After another moment of thought, I tightened my drag down a touch. Still, plenty light to protect my 5X tippet, but with enough stubbornness to keep him occupied should he decide to run again.
Back more or less to where he started, the big tiger tried to lay low and catch his breath. He seemed stuck fast to the bottom, and for a moment, I feared he'd looped me around a rock or log. Then the sensitive tip of my St. Croix felt a slight headshake, and with a grin, I applied some sideways pressure, which aggrivated him into another run, swooping in a wide curve, up and out of the hole, this time, the drag on my Tioga reel clicking at a good pace.
Again at the top of the pool, the tiger and I both realized that he had run out of tricks...and space...and he became content to make like a smallmouth, and make quick, powerful pulls into the deepest water he could find, his bright orange belly occasionally betraying his position in brief flickering reflections. It was all I could do to hang on at this point and enjoy the fight, as my Avid rod did most of the work, "dancing", as J likes to describe it, as it matched the tiger's fight move for move. I was grateful for the softer action of the Avid rod as the big trout darted around, attached to the light tippet.
For the first time, the brute showed some signs of fatigue, allowing himself to be lifted to the surface. Just as fast, though, he'd nose back down, as if to show me he was still the boss. Each time he came close, I'd get the net ready, and each time, just as I was about to scoop him up, he'd charge off, back to the deeper water, and it was all I could do to stay connected.
Finally, the runs became shorter, and I was able to keep the net with him, and just like that, the battle was over.
After posing for a few shots, the stubborn old fish was gently lowered back into his stream, and held there gently until he'd caught his breath enough to hold position in the faster current. After release he sat motionless in the side of the pool, getting his bearings for a few minutes, then gracefully drifted back to the same position he started in, looking much like the rock he appeared to be, before he saw my albino nymph...
While I continue to give my 3 wt. more "field testing" before I give it a full write up, I've also been preparing for this year's bass fishing with more...conventional...fishing gear. While I've certainly caught my share of bass in the past, it wasn't until last year that I started to specifically target them with fairly species-specific tackle, baits, techniques, and presentations. A big part of this was making a new friend, who's been fishing as long as I have, with just as much passion for the sport, but while I spent my time on the water throwing light spinners on 2# test to trout, he was out throwing stickbaits nearly the size of the trout I was catching, to hungry bass and pike. Now that we've been fishing buddies for a while, he's gotten me interested in bass fishing, and he's been hitting the trout streams with me a few times, fly rod in hand.
While my friend has certainly been a great help to me, I've also done my share of reading about bass and the ways people catch them. One thing I've found is that there's a huge gap between the weekend fisherman (no matter how avid) and the tournament anglers, and part of the secret of translating what you read in articles to what you catch on the water is the ability to sift from the pro articles the parts that are relevant to you, as well as the ability to figure out the "why" as opposed to the "what" of both the advice from the weekend warrior and the sales-pitch article from the tackle company.
One of my favorite things about bass is that they're consistent. That's not to say they're always biting, or even that they aren't selective, but rather, it seems that in similar conditions, similar tactics will just about always produce. You've still got to figure this out, however, and identify what the conditions are, as well as what worked last time in those conditions, but while trout are known (and sometimes, even loved) for their finnicky nature, I've never seen a day when bass are crushing silver original rapala F-9s with a green dot on the nose, but are totally ignoring the ones without the dot, as well as any other color than silver, or any other size but F-9. That might get you the most action, but if that's what your friend is driving them nuts with, and all you've got is a silver F-7, you'll still catch fish. Perhaps Pat Smith conveys my reasons for loving bass better than I could ever hope to:
"But if the salmon and trout must be classified as elite in this mythical social structure then let the black bass be given permanent status as the working class of American gamefish. He's tough and he knows it. . . . He's a bass sax grumbling get-down blues in the bayou. He's a factory worker, truck driver, wild catter, lumberjack, barroom bouncer, dock wolloper, migrant farmhand and a bear wrassler. If it's a fight you're looking for, he'll oblige anytime, anywhere. Whether it's a backwater at noon, a swamp at midnight, or dockside at dawn, he'll be there waiting.He's a fierce-eyed, foul-mouthed tobacco-chewing redneck who has traveled to every corner of the nation, paying his way and giving no quarter."
Bottom-line: bass are fun!
Still, when I decided to specifically target bass, all of the sudden, several aisles and an entire wall of my local sporting goods store became suddenly relevant to me, though it was still largely a mystery. Racks of ridiculously huge hooks (especially compared to #14 trout hooks), soft plastic worms, longer than many trout I've caught, spinnerbaits with enough blades to mow the lawn, and crankbaits that looked so realistic that I thought they might still be flopping...all claiming to be the ultimate bass-catching device known to modern man. But how to know what to spend my already-scarce currency on? When I asked my buddy, his simple answer came, "Get a few big Rapalas and a couple Jitterbugs."
Okay, but how, where, and when should I use each of these? And what if neither worked? What colors should I look for and what patterns work? I knew that trout, even of similar size, would hit drastically different lures in different bodies of water and weather conditions, and I was sure bass would follow suit. Thus I turned to the collective wisdom of bass fishing sites on the internet. This turned out to be a rather alarming experience, as everyone had a different idea on the best bass tactics. The only things they seemed to agree on was that I needed a bass boat (not happening), and that I needed to spend gazillions on my setup (also not happening). So I took what I could from the pros and combined it with what I got from the locals, added a healthy dose of my own thoughts on fishing, and tempered it all with a shot of realism and came up with the following as the core of my arsenal for pursuing bass:
Bass Fishing Rods
Trout fly rods aside, I'd have to venture a guess that there are probably more different bass rods on the market than any other species-focused fishing rods. This is probably due to the near-omnipresence of bass in America's lakes, ponds, and rivers mostly, but also because of the wide variety of philosophies of bass fishermen. From among the thousands of bass rods out there, however, we can classify them through three main descriptors: power, length, and action.
Power
What's the main difference between an ultralight trout rod and the stick the catfish angler takes to the water? Immediately, the answer comes back "weight". But while the thick cat rod certainly will get a higher number on the scale, the difference isn't strictly one of weight alone. To change things up, get a graphite bass rod and stack it up against a fiberglass trout rod. In this case, the "lighter" trout rod may actually weigh more than the more modern bass rod made of graphite. So we see that "weight" in the traditional sense, is really not what makes the difference.
A more appropriate way to describe these rods of different "weights" would be to say "the amount of weight that the rod is designed to cast effectively". This would explain why the ultralight trout rod is the tool for casting 1/64 ounce jigs, while the cat rod can toss a quarter-pound of lead out into the middle of a major river. A more appropriate way of saying this would be to say that a given rod has "the power to cast baits of a certain weight", which is known simply as a rod's "power".
Fishing rods range in power from Ultralight, to Light, to Medium-Light, Medium, Medium-Heavy, then on to Heavy and above. I have little to no experience with any rods above Medium-Heavy, so I can't really say what rods lurk at the heavy end of this spectrum. For most bass fishing applications, however, you need only be concerned with the middle range of rod powers: Medium-Light, Medium, and Medium-Heavy.
Many people regard the rod's power as a guide to the weight or size of fish it was designed to catch. In many cases, this actually is applicable, though this is more of an indirect oversimplification. True, with a Medium-Heavy rod, you'll be better able to guide and turn a fighting fish, but with enough space, a properly set drag, and a cool head under pressure, you can land a 4-5 pound bass with an ultralight rod...spooled with 2 pound test line. I've done it.
The bottom-line is, you should choose a rod power suited to the types of lures you plan to use the most. While one ounce football jigs might be fairly unruly on the Medium Light rod you got for drop-shot, if you primarily rely on drop-shot and finesse presentations, you want the advantages that that ML rod provides more than the backbone that would be ideal for flipping jigs.
For a beginning bass angler, my (most certainly non-expert) opinion is that a standard, medium power rod is the best option. A good medium rod will give you the best combination of delicacy and sensitivity to effectively use just about any of the standard bass presentations. With this one rod, you'll be able to determine what your favorite methods are, and what changes would make a second rod more ideal for those methods. Also, medium rods tend to be a good choice for many of the more standard, simple tactics, such as crankbaits and Texas-rigged soft plastics, so the medium rod won't get phased out as you add other rods to your lineup.
Length
While length may not be the most important consideration when buying a new bass rod, it should be considered nonetheless. Length tends to become more of a relative quantity among fishing rods, a situation where "shorter" and "longer" are probably more useful guidelines than 6'-3" or 7'-0". In my experience, length comes into play in three main areas: steering fish in tight quarters where the rod allows you more precise control in what direction pressure is applied to the fish, as an extension of the casting arm, and as a less obvious, though, for me, more practical sense, in transportation.
The first area, steering fish, certainly comes into play, however, with the nature of most spinning and casting rods, I've used, most rods of a given power are similar in length to within 12-18 inches, with a 6'-0" rod being about the shortest bass rod and anything over 7'-6" being a specialized, technique-specific rod. Furthermore, I'd say a 6'-0" to 7'-0" rod will be able to do anything you want or need it to do. This fairly narrow range of lengths, to me, means that as far as steering fish, there isnt much difference from length to length.
In terms of casting, its a matter of personal taste. I happen to like using a slightly longer rod, anywhere from 6'-6" to 7'-0", as I feel it gives me more leverage and improved accuracy in my casting. My buddy, on the other hand, feels a shorter rod (between 6'-0" and 6'-6") is more manageable. Either way, the only way to determine your style is to try a few on the water. Still, many, like myself, enjoy the advantages (and are prepared to deal with the disadvantages) of a somewhat longer rod. For me, my desire for increased leverage and accuracy was tempered by my desire for a rod that would comply with the third aspect of choosing a length: transportability.
This is a factor many people dont really think about, but once they have to deal with it, it certainly becomes a major issue. I know from experience, that without rearranging the backseat of my small car (and even then), my 6'-6" bass rod is a tight fit. That isn't to say that its a pain, just that, when my 6'-6" bass rod fits and my 7'-9" fly rod definitely won't, that means that somewhere between those two lengths I go from a very tight fit indeed, to a point where I'd be bending a rod dangerously to get it inside the car. Recently, I got a new bass rod, and at 6'-9" it still fits about as easily as my other one, so the magic length that just wont go is somewhere in that foot between 6'-9" and 7'-9".
Naturally, there often exists the option of buying a 2-piece rod, which really makes the transportation concerns a non-issue. You'll especially see breakdown options in rods in excess of 7 feet long, when rod transportation becomes and issue for most average anglers. In terms of fishing performance, the debate still continues as to whether a rod constructed of a single piece performs better than its multi-piece brothers. While you'll hear arguments both ways, I feel that any quality rod maker knows how to account for the challenges presented by a multi-piece rod, and thus, a multi-piece rod from a good name in fishing rods should not, in any way, be deficient in its performance. Whether its fishing characteristics will be identical to a one-piece rod of the same product line, power, length, and action isnot assured however, and many have found that identical rods, one single and one multi-piece, will be very similar, but with the multi-piece rod having a decidedly "stiffer" feel, possibly due to the increased bulk and lack of flex in the ferrule (where the two pieces join).
To cut to the chase, for the beginner, I'd recommend a rod length of about 6'-6". This length provides for the widest variety of fishing tactics and while you may find you prefer a longer or shorter stick, you'll still find that 6'-6" medium rod at the core of your bass fishing equipment loadout.
Action
This final aspect of a fishing rod's performance may be the most important, and also the most poorly understood, of the three. A rod's action, simply enough, describes how deeply a rod will flex along its length while under load. While this may seem simple, you'd be surprised how many people misunderstand the term "action". Whether due to a somewhat misleading name (action), even more misleading descriptors (fast, moderate, slow), or due to the profound effect it has on the rods performance for such a simple thing, you'll find all sorts of answers as to what "Fast Action" actually means. In fact, its entirely possible that I've missed a key point of an action's impact, or added something to it that may not hold true for everyone. More than power or length, I feel that a rod's action is very much a matter of personal taste, and that, over time, you'll learn to prefer a specific action over others, when technique allows for it.
Rod action is described as being anywhere from slow (deepest flex) to extra-fast (only the tip flexes) with moderate (or medium) and moderate-fast in between. This amount of flex affects everything from casting, to the retrieve, to the action of the lure or bait, to fighting the fish and while any action rod can be used for the majority of bass fishing styles, certain actions truly excel at certain techniques.
Due to the nature of most bass fishing techniques, the preferred habitat of bass, and the behavior of a bass once hooked, youll find very few bass rods with an action much slower than moderate. Slower actions help to accurately cast light offerings and to detect the lightest bites. Bass normally prefer rather large, bulky baits and lures and a bass's strike usually falls somewhere between the intensity of a sharp tug and a freight train. True, certain techniques, such as a Carolina rig, put you in contact more with your weight (and by extension, the bottom of the lake or river) than your bait itself (and by extension, the fish), so a slower action might seem necessary to detect a light, or muted bite, however, these sorts of weighted rigs tend to be heavy, making a faster action necessary to cast it effectively. Furthermore, many technique-specific rods designed for these methods incorporate extremely soft, sensitive tips with fast, heavy butts, in an attempt to get the best of both worlds. For this reason, when I talk about "slower" rods, I mean moderate action to moderate-fast, and when I say "faster", I'm talking fast to extra-fast.
Action is the area where you are most likely to find your first rod less than ideal for a new tactic you want to try. It is also the area where a technique-specific rod might prevent you from effectively fishing a different style.
When you cast a slower rod (medium for bass rods), it will feel more "whippy" and flexible than average. It will do more to "let you know" when to release the line on a cast, and for me, at least, a slower rod seems to be perfect for short to medium length, non-precision casting. Tossing crankbaits to cover alot of water with a medium action rod is a great way to locate bass. Slower rods also seem to require less effort for casting lighter lures, allowing you to spend hours on the water without straining your arms or wrists. Additionally, a slower rod will allow baits with built in swimming action, like most crankbaits, and hard swimbaits, more freedom to do their thing.
When fishing a faster rod, it'll feel more like a "stick". Accordingly, it'll be better suited for casting heavier offerings that will be able to transmit more "feel" through the non-flexing portion of the rod. In my experience, faster rods also tend to be a bit more "touchy", demanding superior timing and casting skills from their users where a slower rod will communicate better through it's "feel", allowing for some angler error with little loss of performance. Fast rods tend to be a good chioce for presentations where you, the angler, must provide the action to a lure, like drop-shot and finesse rigs.
Casting a 1/16 ounce spinner with a fast rod will make it feel like you're trying to cast with a "broom handle", likewise, throwing 1 ounce football jigs on a medium rod will feel like you're trying to cast a brick with a slinky. Most of your bass tactics will have you casting anywhere from 3/16 to 3/4 of an ounce, all told. You may get into heavier (or lighter) styles, but by then, you'll be more in tune with what you need and can plan a rod purchase accordingly.
For a beginner, I'd recommend a moderate action rod, moderate-fast at the fastest. Fast action rods are more specialized tools that won't give you the versatility or forgiveness you might need as a beginner. A moderate action rod might get a bit noodly when fishing especially heavy rigs, but for crankbaits, spinnerbaits, and lighter plastics rigs, a moderate action rod will shine. Once you get used to a rod like that, you still may not know if a fast rod is for you, but that's one thing where you just need to try a fast rod and see how you like it. If it's for you, you'll know.
Wrap-up
So, to summarize, I recommend a Medium, 6'-6", moderate action rod for a beginning bass angler. That certainly isnt to say that something else might not work better for you, but that rod will cover a wide variety of tactics and situations admirably.
When choosing a rod, the first thing to determine is just how much you're willing to spend on a rod, then look only at rods in your price range. If you start playing the game of "for just another twenty bucks, I can get this...", the next thing you know, you'll be looking at $300 rods when youre just getting started.
For good value in entry levle rods, look to names like Shakespeare, Pflueger, Eagle Claw, and Berkley. Also, the "house brand" of many major outdoor retailers tends to be a great workhorse line. I'd recommend buying a rod at an outdoor shop rather than a department store, simply because they'll have far fewer "cheapies", and sometimes, more knowledgable staff. If you can, visit a place like Bass Pro Shops (duh) or Cabelas, where you're more likely to find knowledgable staff.
Expect to pay a minimum of $30-40 on a bass rod made with a good graphite blank, quality components, and a sturdy reel seat. Check the wrappings of threads on the eyes for evenness and the cork of the handle for smoothness and a lack of pits and voids. For the next notch up from entry level, you'll be looking at names like Shimano, Diawa, Okuma, and St. Croix. These companies will be selling thier introductory (not bargain) rods at prices from $45-$65, and are all quality names that stand behind their products with some sort of guarantee.
Regardless of what you choose, though, remember to treat your rod with care, and it will last you a long time, providing many a fun, relaxing day on the water.
Next Time: Reels!
It's been talked about for well over a year, so it wouldn't surprise me if we saw
Pennsylvania's kids forced to pay a licensing fee to go fishing. Its an old link, I know, but it does a good job of succintly stating what's being proposed. For those of you into specifics of the deal, I've got
the bill submitted to the Pennsylvania House, and here's
a newer article discussing license fee increases as well as the proposed youth license.
Basically, the Pennsylvania Fish & Boat Commission (hereafter, PFBC) wants to require children ages 12-16 to purchase a youth fishing license at $5 (historically, fishing has been free in Pennsylvania to all children up to, but not including, age 16). The revenue generated by these fees (as well as federal funds that are to be somehow received as a result of the youth licenses) will be used to institute youth fishing programs and activities.
My first reaction upon hearing this news was what the hell are they thinking?! After a little thought, I realized that some good may come out of it. Still, I've been mulling the idea over for a few weeks now, and I still find something about charging kids a new fee where none existed before to be...well...just wrong.
The issue has caused quite a stir in several threads over on the FishUSA forums.
Mixed in with all the semi-intelligible ramblings, contention, and internet muscles common to any internet message board, there's a great pros vs. cons debate if you can filter out the nonsense.
As far as I'm concerned, its just bad business to charge anyone, especially children, for something that's been free to them since time immemorial. I dont care what the money is going to or how little it may cost, The Man shouldn't be holding his hand out, waiting for payment from a 12 year old.
They want to increase youth programs and find ways to increase youth interest in fishing, and turn around the recent downturn in youth participation in the sport. All of this is a very noble goal...but to pay for it...they're charging the kids?!
Alot of people argue that they're really charging the parents, and in the majority of cases it probably will be the parents that will foot the bill, but even at that, I dont like the situation (especially coupled with the license fee increase for everyone, included in the PFBC's proposition). So if dad's picking up the tab for junior, now dad's licensing fees have jumped by more than 25% in one year. Way to encourage guys to take their kids fishing.
Still, I'm sure most serious fishermen that are passionate about the sport will get the kids license and take the kids, but what about the kids that would love to fish, but their dads (or moms) just aren't into it. While my dad loves to fish (slowly but surely, I'm getting him back into it), my mom isn't a fan. Before I could drive myself (the targetted 12-16 year old demographic), she'd drop me off at a local lake and either go for a walk, or run errands or meet friends, while I enjoyed a long summer afternoon/evening of fishing. If I hadn't been so interested in fishing, it would have been just as easy for her to leave me at home to play video games, and now, not only will it be easier, it'll be cheaper.
On a more objective note, the PFBC really needs to hire a few more economic analysts, because if they'd bother to look at trends, they'd see that any time they've increased license prices, sales have dropped accordingly. So if you start charging for something that's free, what do you think is going to happen? I think they'll turn lots of kids away from fishing. If they were really, truly serious about getting more youth involved in fishing, they'd make fishing as accessible as possible to children of all ages and income levels ($5 isnt much, but its more than free).
If they want to run youth fishing programs, either charge a small entry fee for the program, or cut back in another area (like stocking trout at keystone power dam?). Better still, get a few sections of stream designated as youth-harvest-only (who doesnt want to fish WITH Dad?), and maybe a week or two in early to mid-April designated as a youth trout season, when the kids can rock the "uneducated" stocked fish, before they're traumatized by the general season opener later in the month. In fact, I think that'd be an awesome idea. It wouldnt cost the PFBC alot more than a few more hours laber to have WCOs at the lakes on those days on the minimum side (to make sure adults arent coming down fishing and ruining the experience), and on the other end of the spectrum, they could have the two preceding Saturdays as "Youth Fishing Days" complete with a pre-fishing seminar about the fish, how to use their gear to catch them, conservation, and maybe even recipes for cooking their catch. At the end of the talk, they'd get a patch, button, license, or whatever, and then they could spend the rest of the day fishing.
Sound like an idea?
As always, I'd be delighted to hear from any reader with an opinion on the subject. Feel free to leave your comments, I'll read them all!
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!
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!
