fishing in the cathedral again

drove up to the ferry again friday afternoon

arriving about an hour and a half before sunset

we forsook unpacking our shit and setting up camp

to gear up and hit the water..two quick fish 

(and two misses) had me convinced that saturday would be great

and it was - just not as many fish as I'd like

it got rather windy - not unmanageable, just inconvenient

I had some issues w/ my shit

trouble rigging up led to trouble casting

led to trouble rerigging due to trouble w/ knots etc

seemed as I spent more time getting my shit together than fishing

I just might have been hungover

if the dead soldiers littering camp and the half empty bottle of bourbon

are considered evidence

nevertheless, a fine time was had

company was good and I did end up sticking a couple fish

mudbug hooked up...

again...

nice 'bow

when we got to the parking lot we ran into a couple guys from tucson
'bug asked if they posted on a local board...

marvin ( azmandella) and (not so) fat guy alex of fatguyflyfishing
he's hooked up...

admiring a pretty little 'bow

throwing a beast mode...

fishing in the cathedral

my fishing buddy likens it to fishing in a phone booth

I disagree

granted the cathedral grows in grandeur upstream to the dam

(damned impressive)

and grows ever grander downstream over countless rapids

the walk in fished as fine as I've seen it

look at that beautiful wild rainbow

lovely colors healthy and strong fish

typical of the fish we saw yesterday

josh didn't take long getting started

(a pattern to be repeated throughout the course of the day - he was en fuego)

sticking a nice fish early on a custom tied egg pattern of his own design

this is my favorite of the numerous underwater shots he took

he gets photo credit on both bentrod shots below and several here

my weapon of  choice for the day
and the first ever bamboo rod I made
chile colorado
7ft2in 5wt driggs river special

I've gotta a lotta pics just like this one

again - look at that fi

sh!

this rock right here is the throne 

perfectly scooped and smoothed and pitched 

for yer work

a perfect place to sit and rest too

why would you wanna fish here?

beats me

got bent

more to follow

or not...

holidaze gift recommendation

for the angler/flytier/rod builder who has everything

and since no one can afford a bamboo rod these daze...

last year I picked up a print from local artist tim johnson

this one...

this year I'll drop a little Christmas cash on this one...

I really do enjoy his work and so will you

"the skinny" - chapter three - flashforward

not much background left

I met matt at river hill campground on the rio g

we fished a bit and talked some shit

it was fun

I'd been trying for years to get a nice bent rod shot of myself

difficult to do when you usually fish alone

anita sucks at taking pictures

was out on the water w/ schliske for ten minutes

bingo it's done

and it's classic

this pic has been seen by who knows how many people

it remains a favorite 

and is the model/whatever for my logo...
as well as part of an abra ad

we had been sitting on the bank
enjoying a cool smoke

matt flipped his fly out into the water and bingo got hit immediately
this seemed like a pretty good indication
that we should be fishing
moments later I was bent to the cork
by a fourteen inch brookie

earlier in the day I'd been out w/ my wife
and I stuck her in the cheek w/ a stimi
fortunately it was barbless
and she took it like a trooper

honestly she should have known better than to be standing back there
it certainly wasn't her first rodeo

continued

memories grow hazy

I'd tired of the frustration I'd experienced w/ the long rod

futility

so I decided to spend a leisurely day

jrinking beer in the shade and fishing a spinning rod

corn and salmon eggs

there was a guy there w/ the same idea

I polished off my six pack

strolled back to campsite and loaded up a twelve pack

headed back to the shady spot

where the guy pulled out a bottle of crown royal and passed it my way

this continued throughout the course of the day

with nary a nibble to show for it

we didn't care we were lit

I was struck by extreme urgency

I had to shit like now

I started a ridiculous butt clenched quick walk to the outhouse 

a couple hundred yards

I thought I would make it

I did not

I cleaned myself up tossed my drawers and resumed fishing and jrinking

yuck

the sun went down

I was plastered

walked back to camp where phildo was preparing some baby back ribs on the grill

shit was spinning I was seeing double

figured I had better sit down

sat in a campchair beside the campfire

and pitched face first into the fire

I got the hell outta there right quick

crawled into my tent and sleeping bag

I awoke the next morning feeling and looking like death warmed over

I have a pic - you will not see it

we drove to wal mart in farmington

purchased necessary salves ointments and bandages

phildo ministered to my numerous wounds

I looked like shit but felt all right

I would be back

"the skinny" - chapter one - making a short story long

so we start at the beginning

a (former) friend and I took a road trip to farmington, new mexico, of all places

to play a five star golf course, of all things, in a highly unlikely place

we enjoyed camping and rather than stay in a motel

we pitched a tent in cottonwood campground

in navajo dam

on the bank of "holy shit, it's the mighty san juan!" phildo exclaimed...

"we need to do this again w/ fly rods"

I shrugged my shoulders and thinking about more golf, "sure"

next time around 

I was armed w/ some spinning rods packed in with my golf clubs

we'd fish in the morning and golf in the afternoon

and eat like kings at night

(think ribs shrimp carnitas etc)

phildo started to show me some fly casting ropes

it was a struggle

I donned his father's old (read shitty) waders

ridiculous outsized rubberized nylon size thirteen boot foot models

you could have fit four of me inside these things

I knew mase and he was kinda big but not this damn big

I didn't bother w/ any socks (big mistake) and wondered how to piss...

I wandered around most clumsily and aimlessly

futilely thrashing the air w/ an awkward long pole

occasionally dropping a ridiculous fly on the water to no avail

usually resulting in a hopeless bird's nest

that I'd have to sit down on the bank and untangle or cut off

I didn't know shit

neither did phildo

I fell of course filled my waders and kept it right the fuck up

now cold and damp my feet being abraded in those stoo-pit oversized boots

I loved it despite being infinitely frustrated and as uncomfortable as I've ever been in warm weather

phildo let me borrow the rod

and religiously I practiced every day in the alley behind my house

until I could move some line

I could cast but I still sucked

nevertheless I was determined to improve

I bought a few books and studied my ass off

I'm a very good student but this shit remained mostly frustrating

I kept at it in the alley

ventured out on my own 

eventually even sticking a few fish

by no means would I call myself proficient

but I could deliver a fly to the water

and somehow or another occasionally stick a trout

it was time to head back to the san juan...
round two it's gonna get ugly

this time I arrived w/ heightened anticipation
I had seen those huge fucking rainbows cruising about
and my mind raced w/ visions of sticking them
them mind you not simply one
I was gonna eat a fat trout filet cooked over my own campfire

I'd come armed w/ a 9ft 3in 5wt orvis pole
I bought spinning gear too just in case
I had knowledge
a little experience I could move line a bit
I understood the concept of dragfree drift

phildo didn't have a clue
he was armed w/ a custom built (by al ellis for his father, mase) bamboo rod
cast beautifully
false casting and dropping his fly everywhere but where it should be
he had a bookcase full of his late father's flyfishing library
and hadn't cracked one of them
he knew nothing but threw a tight loop

I got skunked
and it gets worse...

despite recent evidence to the contrary...

we are a flyfishing flytying and rod building blog

I purchased this bitchn' 'bow print of an original watercolor

painted by local artist tim johnson

he has several additional prints available

email tim  at icthyart@yahoo.com 
with inquiries or orders
prices are reasonable

fly tying tray project

I've had this idea in mind for years now

I want to decoupage a picture of a trout to my tying tray

pictured above are apache trout

cut out from old tomelleri calendars

while I have many many to choose from

the native apache trout just seems appropriate

(I'd prefer the gila but don't think I've got one)

or perhaps a more colorful species would be preferable?

I dunno...

native fish enthusiasm

superb photo essay

a rare glimpse into mexico's wild mountains emphasizing geography inhabitants and culture

highly recommended quest for wild native trout

we love it

at the end of the day

we were well served

cretin creek is full of wild fish

all the way live

bitchin' brown and bamboo photo courtesy of s. rath

confluence

steve fishing matamoscas

teaser

stuck

I should clarify - the fish is stuck

getting bent again

t minus time

soon

(another sweet shot from s. rath)

going to church

have we seen this before?

perhaps

it remains one of my favorite places

though I'm more than a little bit concerned

about low flows and snowpack

looking closer at this fine shot 

(courtesy of s. rath)

I'm fighting that fish left handed - wtf?

countdown

T minus thirty daze or so...

yes, I want to...

not like this though

casting sequence

josh snapped a series of shots of me 

casting into a sweet slot 

while perched above oak creek canyon

whoa nellie that's a bit sloppy but efficient enough

producing beautiful drifts right down broadway

I was firing dries about 40-45ft on a 3wt line

w/ one backcast

I only like two things that I see in the shots above

the low line hand and the shot clearly showing the rod loaded 

as the forward cast is delivered