FFFSOC forums - Blogs http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/blog.php This is a discussion forum for FFF Southern Council members powered by vBulletin. To find out about vBulletin, go to http://www.vbulletin.com/ . en Thu, 17 May 2012 20:09:35 GMT vBulletin 60 http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/images/misc/rss.jpg FFFSOC forums - Blogs http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/blog.php SOC- FFF now has a Twitter Account! Visit us at SOC_FFForg http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?14-SOC-FFF-now-has-a-Twitter-Account!-Visit-us-at-SOC_FFForg Thu, 16 Jun 2011 11:01:19 GMT ---Quote (Originally by flyfishingdiva)--- In an effort to get our information out to our members and prosptective interested parties the Souncil...
Quote Originally Posted by flyfishingdiva View Post
In an effort to get our information out to our members and prosptective interested parties the Souncil has expanded its social media boundaries.

Look us up on Twitter and FOLLOW Us! At SOC_FFForg
Save to your favorites for ease! This is brand new as of June 15th, 2011, so look for our Tweets to be coming in the near future.

Also if you have something to be Tweeted and aren't sure how or if pertains to the SOC and you would like it to be Tweeted through the SOC- you may use this email: southerncouncilfff@live.com and I will be happy to assist you.

Thank you,
TBird
]]> flyfishingdiva http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?14-SOC-FFF-now-has-a-Twitter-Account!-Visit-us-at-SOC_FFForg The Stalking of the Trout…by anniejblog http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?13-The-Stalking-of-the-Trout…by-anniejblog Thu, 10 Feb 2011 00:47:28 GMT The Stalking of the Trout… Posted on February 2, 2011 by anniejblog Being my father’s birthday (Charles Jardine) this passing sunday, we thought we... The Stalking of the Trout…
Posted on February 2, 2011 by anniejblog
Being my father’s birthday (Charles Jardine) this passing sunday, we thought we would celebrate by taking a group up to Hampshire (down for you northerners) to fish the famous River Test. We had a warm lodge and access to some of the best parts of the river, what could possibly go wrong?

After preparing breakfast and discussing flies and techniques, my father finally set out with our trusty dog midge, ready to get that catch of the day. Unfortunately he didn’t get too far down river when suddenly he was hit with a tremendous nosebleed, so bad he decided it was best to just carry on fishing and cover it up with his snood. Thats the way to do it, we anglers don’t mess around. Injury’s? Pah! Nothing gets in the way of you and that fish.

By the time he had satisfied himself with a few grayling and a misguided sea trout he turned back towards the lodge, coming into contact with a large group of terrified ramblers. Good old British public, stay away from the strange bloody faced fisherman and his probably rabid dog. Don’t think to offer the poor man a tissue or anything?

On another part of the river, I was having no luck whatsoever (but luckily no nosebleeds) and after 3 hours trying many a spot on the river, changing my fly twice (for all you non-fishing folk I don’t mean a REAL LIVE fly, obviously. It’s basically fancy string tied around a hook to mimic bugs and insects. Google it.) and swearing loudly at the vacant water, arms and hands gesturing to match, my brother and his friend Lewis came to my rescue. Or so I thought.

By this time I welcomed a bit of friendly advice, which considering is coming from my brother is quite something. We did not get on for the first 18 years of existence (Ask my parents, it was like alley cats constantly fighting over their territory without the frequent urination).

First, as directed by Alex, there was a change of fly (again),secondly, came the stalking of the trout.

Alex and Lewis are very talented fly-fishers and also guide others on these rivers. Naturally I thought I was in with this one, I was finally going to catch a fish today. As it turned out, I wasn’t, not with them around anyway. After 10 minutes of casting in the line of the bastard fish that kept rising and sinking back to the depths, not even showing the mildest hint of interest at my fly, I was instructed to change rods and try a dry fly (a floating fly that mimics insects such as a mayfly or olive – I mean the insect, not an edible olive for gods sake). This also did not work.

I could see Lewis and Alex start to manically flick throught their fly boxes and find something that WAS going to work. Stumped as they were, their technical fishing knowledge was not going to be outsmarted by a mere trout! And another 15 minutes passed…

Now we were trying for another fish rising just slightly downstream of the other… Come on guys, it’s the same fish, its just taking the piss! I was starting to feel boredom slump over me, I was happier trying my luck, on my own, occasionally shouting profanities at the water. This wasn’t fun anymore. It was just frustrating.

Slowly but surely I managed to slip in the ‘i’m cold, hungry and bored now’ line and took myself and my failing rod back to the lodge. On my return I went to see how the rest of the party were doing. Stopping to check in with our italian friend Mauro, we chit-chatted about the day and how well he was doing. which annoyngly, was very well indeed. He’d caught fish after fish in the exact beat of river Alex and Lewis had been striving to help me catch on. How was this? An Italian who yes, is a very good fly-fisher, knew more about catching fish on this river than my two ‘experts’? This my good people, is just one of the many reasons Italians are better than us British. Pure enviable evidence.

Mauro was convinced that he could help me get my illusive fish in the 15 minutes before lunch, really? So off we went. Same spot, new flies (yet again) and within 5 minutes, you guessed it. I had a fish. An absolutely stunning Brown Trout to be precise! I was over the moon and i’m not afraid to say that I now understand why many an angler suddenly feels compelled to ’kiss their catch’. It was the best fish I had ever caught, also made more enjoyable by the fact I had levelled with Alex and Lewis, river guides of the south! After posing for a few snaps with my beautiful prize, I lay on the bank and leant over the edge (trying to avoid the large patches of swan turd dotted about the area), letting my trout go back off into the flowing waters depths.

If i’m not mistaken, I think there is a lesson to be learned here;

When fishing, don’t keep analysing your technique and fanny about deciding what part of the water is best to try or what fly you should change to every 10 minutes. Just go for it!

Actually, bugger that. Just find an Italian. They will know…

Posted in The rambles of A Jardine | Leave a comment ]]> Michael http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?13-The-Stalking-of-the-Trout…by-anniejblog Voll gainer or how I beat the East German Olympic Diving and Gymnastic Teams http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?12-Voll-gainer-or-how-I-beat-the-East-German-Olympic-Diving-and-Gymnastic-Teams Tue, 09 Feb 2010 01:35:21 GMT Whilst living in the little town of Buch in the former West Germany I loved to go on walks through the woods. Absolutely beautiful pine forests with... Whilst living in the little town of Buch in the former West Germany I loved to go on walks through the woods. Absolutely beautiful pine forests with a few oaks scattered about. I would put my young daughter in a backpack child carrier and jog the paths through the forests, alongside the streams, up and down the hills. By the way, when you have a kid in one of these, remember, his or her head is higher than yours. When you duck under a limb, duck low enough to clear the little ones head too. Its a lot easier to explain mud on your knees than a bump on the kid's forehead.
I had seen trout in these streams. I could go down and gaze at these little browns, all of 10 inches, just sitting in a three meter wide rivulet, but I couldn't catch them. The problem was not my skill level, but rather no permission to fish.
I was a man on a mission. I got a German fishing license through the base. Now the only problem was finding the man with the fishing rights on these waters. The only problem was finding the person who had the rights. I was a German translator for the military, so the language barrier was not a problem. I asked the Waldmeister or forest manager who owned the rights and got an answer. Unfortunately, it was a bit of a task tracking the guy down because all I was given was a name and city. The city, 50 kilometers away, was quite large.
After about eight months of trying on and off, I got a letter from the gentleman. He was happy to let me fish there. He had to show every year how many Yanks he let fish and had not had any of us fish there in years. As a matter of fact, I was only the third person, German or American, in the six years that had asked him.
I was elated. Stupid fish that may have never seen a fly. I planned my first trip for the following Saturday.
Bright and early Saturday morning, I kitted up. I had no waders nor wading boots. No problem, the stream is small so I would just wear sneakers. I had a $60 rod and reel combo from Cabelas and a few flies from the Base Exchange, chiefly blue and red colored.
I walked the mile and a half to the stream and stood on the hill trying to figure where to fish. I didn't have the skill to fish moving water as the only fly fishing I'd done to that point was in a pond. I had seen a pool in my previous walks, but knew it was going be difficult to get to. Well, why not, I'll take a shot at it. I strolled down the trail and found myself looking down a steep hillside to a 50-foot long pool that was about 25 feet wide. Unfortunately, it was steep, really, really steep.
I gingerly stepped down the hillside; the ground was covered in wet, fallen leaves, pine needles and other debris. About one quarter down, it happened. Something rolled under my right foot. I started to pitch forward. To keep from tumbling, I pushed my left foot out and flopped on my back. Let the slide begin. The slope was steep and slick enough that I continued to slide, feet first. Then I picked up speed. 30, 50, 60, 80 feet.
Time slows and the senses are heightened. I hear the sonic boom of my passage. I look back and see a small rooster tail of leaves flying up behind me. Radiant heat is building on my backside. I fly over an unwary chipmunk and watch it burst into flame. I'm on a one-man butt luge to Hell. Then.. WHAM!
I'd hit a sapling, legs spread, square in the crotch. I couldn't breath. I couldn't feel my body. I could only feel one thing and it wasn't nice. After what seemed like a few hours, I decide the fetal position would help the pain. Yes, this is better, oohh CRAP!
I'm moving again. This time I'm rolling, tumbling, totally uncontrolled. I fling out my arms to stop but end up with more pain as my arms flop like a bonita on the deck of a party boat. I hit a rotten log and crash through it. I catch a glimpse of a rock ledge in my path, hit it, elbow and shoulder scream, and then I'm airborne.
Time slows again. I think of my widow and two orphaned daughters. I wonder if they bury GI's that die in fishing accidents in Arlington. I wonder where my rod, right shoe, sock, hat and other items are and why did they disappear. I gaze around and I'm floating over the pool, all muted greens and browns, and 15 feet down. Its beautiful from this height and it looks like I'm going to get a close up.
I hit the water like an Apollo capsule coming in without parachutes. I come in at an angle and slam into the bottom. The water is ice cold and about five feet deep. I dogpaddle over to the shore and take stock. Nothing seems to be broken but there's definitely gonna be a mark. No, make that a lot of marks. The ice water feels good on my now numb lower half. I sit in the water and rest.
I drag myself out of the water and stand up. I look up and see that I've come at least 200 feet down the hill. I'm alive but not feeling so hot. I slowing climb the hill and retrieve my rod, shoe, jacket and hat. Can't find my sock. Except for being soaked to the skin, I'm now fairly clean.
Well I'm here. Yeh, the pool is will be toast for a bit, to hell with it. I'm going fishing. ]]> Frank Reid http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?12-Voll-gainer-or-how-I-beat-the-East-German-Olympic-Diving-and-Gymnastic-Teams The Snow Blower http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?11-The-Snow-Blower Tue, 09 Feb 2010 01:34:08 GMT Okay, for a fly fisherman, it’s getting close to when I have to pull out a chainsaw just to fish. You just cut a 3 foot circle in the ice and then a... Okay, for a fly fisherman, it’s getting close to when I have to pull out a chainsaw just to fish. You just cut a 3 foot circle in the ice and then a 25 foot long, one foot wide slot leading to the circle. Bob's your uncle; you can fly fish in the Winter in Nebraska.
But first, you have to get by the blizzards. Yes, I said the ugly word, blizzard.
For those of you that have never experienced a blizzard, go to your favorite ski slope at night. When they turn on the snow making machine, place a 50' wide fan behind it and crank it up to hurricane. Now stand there in the -10 degree weather with this in your face for 3 days. This is a blizzard. Wind chills down so low, atoms slow down. The upside, your mother-in-law will stay in West Palm Beach for Christmas instead of camping out in your spare bedroom.
Tuesday, we were scheduled to open Nebraska's Donner Party Season with a bit of wind and snow. Everyone makes a mad dash to the grocery store for toilet paper and milk. The only reason I can figure for this important combination is that folks sit around in their snow forts and make cocoa from chocolate-flavored ExLax. Just don't ask about the marshmallows. Really.. Don't.
Tuesday morning dawns and I call the snow line for work. SNOW DAY! Bonus. Let’s get the snow blower up to speed. I then remember the fun of using a snow blower in the wind. The snow comes back in your face, covering you from head to foot, you end up looking like the looser in a chainsaw ice block carving contest (I love chainsaws).
Hmm, okay, up in the man cave over the garage is a box with a cab for my snow blower. I bought it on Summer clearance sale a couple of years before. I get the thing down and install it.
It is a three-sided cab made of clear plastic with a steel tube frame that mounts on the handle bars. You put it on, step into the open back and plow away. Great. I take it out for the first test run that afternoon. Snow has covered my 120' driveway and I clear it away. Wind is at about 5 to 10 mph, snow blows back at me. Nothing, nada. Face is clear. Thing works like a charm.
Wednesday... another snow day. The difference being is that the wind has circled around from the North, the isobars tightened up and its howling. Snow's not coming down, its coming sideways. Three to five foot drifts cover my yard with two feet of blown snow over the driveway.
This is what my serious snow blowing machine was made for. Nine horse Brigs and Stratton behind a 29" throat, dual stage, six gears forward, two in reverse, power-drive, electric-start monster. Now outfitted with the ever important cab. Bwahahahaha!
I start up the driveway, wind swirls, blowing the snow 50 feet into the air. A few crystals make it past the cab, but nothing like it would be without it. I have about 3/4 of the drive done and am making passes up and down. On about the sixth pass, I turn the beast around in the street... and then... just as I pull the lever down to engage the power drive, a 50 mph gust catches the cab from behind.
The snow blower is now rocket propelled. It shoots forward, pulling me off my feet. I'm holding onto the handlebars as the monster goes mach snot down the driveway dragging me behind it. I'm now stretched out with my knees and toes making dual tracks in the snow. The Dickies insulated coveralls burst into flame, finally warming my frozen feet. I'm a snow blowing comet!
The snow chute on the machine spins like a top. Snow shooting out in all directions, flames out the back, the snow cone maker from Hell has a life of its own. I blast a chunk of snow through the neighbor's window, instantly flocking his Christmas tree. I think I’m flocked too.
More comes out the chute, not just snow, but the newspaper. It’s a frozen missile that takes out 17 tobogganers two blocks over. It’s like bowling with a shot put.
The crazed ice yacht takes the path of least resistance and whips around the house where the wind has cleared the snow. I crash through the fence, streaming wire like a Rorschach Christmas garland.
I then zip through the back yard where the dog does his business. Now the thing has become an instrument of mass destruction. Its shooting out tiny icy B.M.s.
The dog is running for its life. I'm afraid he's not going to make it. He then decides it’s a game, circles back and jumps for the snow coming out the top. Snow shoots down his throat, out the back end and writes Froehliche Weihnachten in Chinese characters on the side of the house (he's half dachshund, half Maltese).
And finally, as I'm about to crash through the garage, the cab flips over on top of the snow blower. The snow blower glides ever so calmly to a stop, I get to my feet, turn the machine into the wind, flip the cab back up before it can burst into flames from the heat of the motor, dump snow on my smoldering knees (hey, these coveralls look better in charcoal black), examine the pedicure on my toes, wonder where my boots are, and turn off the machine. The dog comes over and looks at me with that look of disappointment only a dog can muster. He pees on my leg.
I wheel the snow blower into the garage, wander into the house, and buy a ticket for the Bahamas, one-way. Never again. ]]> Frank Reid http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?11-The-Snow-Blower <![CDATA[Lyin' in Winter]]> http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?10-Lyin-in-Winter Tue, 09 Feb 2010 01:30:56 GMT Okay, there are folks who enjoy fishing in the middle of winter. Some are called "ice fishermen," others "steelheaders." I use the collective noun; insane masochists.
I've been ice fishing before. I was the third man in a two-holer ice tent. If you've never seen one, imagine a nylon-fabric porta-potty on the middle of a frozen lake, all surrounded by little flags stolen from a Smurf golf course. At least, that's what it looks like. Some of these tents and shacks are very fancy, with solid sides, sofas, TV and hot and cold running maniacs. More on that.
It was Nebraska in late January. I was invited to join Henry and John to fish. As a fly fisherman, I show up with my fly rod and a chainsaw. I figure I can cut a long, keyhole shape in the ice and get two or three casts before the guides freeze up.
The guys invite me into their tent. My 8'6" five weight won't fit, so I leave it at the door. I keep the chainsaw, noting the crazed look in the eyes of these erstwhile "friends." Self defense, 'doncha know.
The interior is sparse. Two upturned 5 gallon buckets in a line with a kerosene space heater in the middle. They are facing two holes in the ice. Two fishing rods that have been taken away from their mothers too soon sit on little stands; the lines go into the water.
I need a hole. Hmm, never had cause to utter that sentence before. I mention this to Henry, he steps outside the tent and brings in "the drill." This isn't your standard Black & Decker. The drill has a 2 horsepower gas motor on the top, handles designed for hands wearing boxing gloves and a 9 inch bit. Not 9 inch long, but 9 inches across. This is the WMD evidence that we were looking for in Iraq.
John pushes things back and Henry pulls the rip cord, the tent fills with smoke and noise. Okay, we got your basic shock and awe going here. I'm shocked that the thing will start in the minus fifty degree temps and awe gonna get out before I'm overcome by carbon monoxide.
Henry centers the bit between the other two holes, pushes a lever and poof! We have a three-holer. 14 inches down and he's into the lake. He takes the drill outside and then starts to explain the technique.
"Okay, those holes outside are John's and mine. You fish out of your hole here. We don't have the gear to set you up outside."
"Those are more fishing holes? I thought the local CSI had been out here tagging evidence from some bizarre Inuit gang war. How do you get the fish in? You've got no fishing poles."
"Well, the flags are tip ups. When the flag goes up, we run out and pull up the line. Right now, we have them set for bigger, cruising fish. We don't want to catch tiddlers."
"You catch tiddlers on your tip-ups?"
"No, we don't want to catch tiddlers on the tip-ups. That's why we use a flasher."
Okay, thinks I, these guys are suffering frostbite between the earmuffs. I warily eye my two tentmates in their knee-length parkas, as I slowly move to the back corner of the tent.
"You flash the fish?"
"Yes, we put the probe down the hole and we can see the fish with the flasher."
"You put the probe down the hole so you can see the fish with the flasher and not catch tiddlers with the tip-ups."
"Exactly!"
"Okay, I think I've got it. What I've got, I've no clue. What do you use for bait?"
"Wax worms."
"Those look like maggots."
"No, no. They're totally different."
"Well, they don't seem to have much action."
"You have to warm them up."
"How do you warm them up?" asks I.
"Just pop a few in your mouth and hold 'em in your cheek." He then raises his mitten to his mouth and coughs up four wriggling worms into his palm.
"I think I'm gonna spew!"
"Don't worry about it. They're wax worms. Perfectly clean."
"You're sure about this?"
"Of course, been doing it for years. Since I've started warming up my bait, I've trebled the amount of fish caught."
John is besides me nodding seriously. He opens up a little cardboard can and shakes a tablespoon full of chilled, flesh colored rice krispies into my glove. I summon up my courage and pop them into my mouth.
"Mmbule, mrammblu bebeme nbm mammods?"
"What?"
I move the wax worms around with my tongue playing sheepdog and finally herd the suckers into my cheek. "I said, what's the difference between wax worms and maggots? You said they were totally different." The wax worms are starting to wake up and one escapes out the corner of my mouth, plopping onto the ice and squirming away.
"Marketing. No one in the US would buy maggots so they changed the name to wax worms."
John takes the pepper shot full in the face. He now looks like a genetically altered Medusa with maggots instead of snakes. None the less, they are both laughing hysterically.
This is the ice fishing initiation. Henry just had a few "wax worms" in his palm to keep them warm. With a bit of slight of hand, just spit into the mitten and voila, there they were.
I, on the other hand, am not laughing. I still have one little bugger caught behind a crown and a second is heading for my sinuses. Now I know where they got the idea for so many movies along the line of Alien. That sucker nested up there. Finally hatched out during a big presentation I was giving at work.
Time to get down to fishing. John hands me a spare rod. It's about 18 inches long with a little bitty reel attached. I remove my gloves to bait the hook, picking a couple of live ones out of John's hair line.
Since there is no room up front, I lean over the space heater and finally set up on my hole. Plunk, in the water with a bobber the size of a kidney bean. Hey, this isn't so bad. A couple of "friends," we're fishing and chatting away. Even after my appetizer, I'm starting to get hungry.
As a matter of fact, I smell something cooking. Doesn't smell very good. More like burning plastic bags. Smoke curls up around my face. John looks over and casually comments, "fire."
"What?"
"You're on fire."
I look down, and my parka is up against the space heater. Flames are licking up from my groin to my chest. I calmly assess the situation. Ah, yes. Stop, drop and role. I remember that from kindergarten. Unfortunately, there is no room in the tent for this maneuver. I believe its time to quietly exit the facility and find a snow bank.
Translate: The scream that I emit draws sharks in from the South Pacific and sets off car alarms for a 50 mile radius. Many Nebraskans head to their tornado shelters. I throw the rod and reel, which takes the path of least resistance and drops straight down through the hole in the ice. I proceed to beat myself across the stomach and chest whilst doing a great impression of the Tasmanian Devil in a confined space. I finally head for the exit.
I hit the door doing about Mach 10. The Velcro closure decides to hold fast. I, and now the whole tent with me, am now moving across the windswept lake. The tent finally catches on its two other occupants. It molds around them like a second skin. They don't move, John thinks he has a nibble. The Velcro gives and I burst through the door.
As I exit, I figure out that the flames were oxygen starved in the tent. I know this, because as soon as I hit the outside air, I turn into a human comet, a flaming blue head trailed by a stream of grey smoke. I head for the nearest snow bank and discover the true meaning of windswept. Ain't no snow banks for hundreds of yards around.
Kids are playing hockey. I head out, head down and hip check a ten-year-old into Kansas. I enter the flagged minefield of Henry and John's tip-ups. Slaloming through, I manage to snag every one of them with my mukluks. I look like a Wisconsin limousine kitted out for a wedding. One tip-up is attached to a state-record walleye that flies through the air, flash freezes, shoots across the lake, and trips a figure skater who does the first ever quadruple Lutz. Unfortunately, she lands in one of John's ice holes and is never seen again.
I finally dive for the ice, rolling and spinning in inaugural Winter X-Games break dance competition. The officials hold up their signs, 2, 1.5, 2 and a 0.5 from the French judge.
The flames out, I look back and Henry and John haven't moved. The tent site looks like a plane crash debris field. My 5 weight is broken and forms a cross over the hole that the skater disappeared through. John raises his rod and brings up a 6" yellow perch.
I think I'll stick to fly fishing and class V rapids, it's safer. ]]> Frank Reid http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?10-Lyin-in-Winter <![CDATA[I've looked at the White from both sides now]]> http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?9-I-ve-looked-at-the-White-from-both-sides-now Thu, 10 Dec 2009 23:49:26 GMT Okay, I'm down to Mountain Home, Arkansas for the FFF Southern Council Conclave. This event is close to, if not exceeding the national convention. I had some classes (i.e. spey casting in case steelhead start running up the Platte River at some time in the near future) and seminars. One thing that was cool, I was videotaped tying my Frank's Fighting Craw. The guy who did it is going to edit it and put it up on UTube in a month or so.
Yeh, yeh. Blah, blah, blah.... Come Saturday and after enduring all the camaraderie BS, I needed to go fishing, so it’s off to the North Fork of the White River in Southern Mo. This water looks a lot like Penns. About the same size and flow. Unfortunately, no fish. Nice diversion. On the way back from Missouri, I did see two signs side-by-side. Both had arrows pointing off to the side road. The first one was for a cemetery, the second… a taxidermist. At least they give you options.
Okay, Sunday, "bored" meeting in the a.m. and then time to go fishing again. Mark Borserine from Kansas says he wants to go out. Mark is an FFF Certified Casting Instructor and a hell of a fisherman (some guys can cast but not fish).
We meet up with Joe, our guide. Joe has an Arkansas jon boat. These are about 18’ long and only about 4’ wide. Really nice and stable. We tool on down the main course of the White River, primarily chuckin’ and duckin’ with a big, pink San Juan worm. This fishing is extremely productive but not really fly fishing IMHO. However, it’s a lot of fun, so we keep at it till the guide wants to go home. He doesn’t like being on the water after dark. Something about unseen logs and alligators. We did catch a bunch of fish in the 14” to 19” range.
On Monday, Mark and I have an all-day trip with a fairly famous White River guide on the White. We’ll call him “Eastwood” to protect the innocent. Yes, he is one of the finest guides on the White River, but we don’t want the following to be associated with him.
Early on, Eastwood commits two cardinal sins. One, he says that the weather and water conditions are perfect for catching big trout and lots of them. Its overcast and they are running 4 generators at the dam. Secondarily, after we had to duck under a stream-side limb, he mentioned that he’d been guiding for over 11 years and had never lost a client out of the boat.
Bwahahahahahahahahaha! He don’t know me very well, do he? I calmly replied “until today.” (cue suspenseful music in the background)
We head out and find out that since we’re “good casters,” Eastwood will eschew chuckin’ and duckin’. We will “cast like men!” Okay, here it is Thursday, that was Monday. That being said, casting 8 wt rods with sinking fly lines and weighted flies will stretch out joints that have not been stretched since high school and I am still sore.
One of the things that Eastwood boat has is a drag chain. This is a length of rope ending in a heavy chain that drags along the bottom, slowing the drift down river. Well, between a really nice stable platform in the Arkansas jon boat, the drag chain keeping us at the right speed, and finally, some booming 75 foot double hauls with a high speed strip of big fly, I’m finally fishing.
And then, then…the quietude was destroyed. I was standing in the front of the boat, minding my own business, as we drifted downriver. Since the chain was attached to the front of the boat, we were going downstream motor first. The running line was a bit stiff and it had tangled a bit in the bottom of the boat, so I was working to clear the tangle. The boat decided to spin a bit, so was out of line with the current about 45 degrees when the drag chain caught on a log and the boat snapped back in line. Basic physics kicked in. See, I was standing above one point on the Earth. Physics says that unless I do something to change that, I will remain at that point, even if the object I’m standing on decides to abandon ship and move to another point in this space/time continuum. One thing that did act upon me was the gunnel, hitting me in the back of the knees.
Okay, now I’m airborne, doing a 180 degree spin from the vertical. I then hit the water, the first temp check is done with the back of my neck. Hmm, 52 degrees. Chill. I go under, do a divers turn, think “this will make a great story,” say hi to the 41lb 8 oz trout that was cruising under our boat, and come back up.
As I break the surface, I see the side of the boat and an oar handle reaching out to me. I grab at the oar, but it’s too far away. The next thing I know, I’m floating down the river with the oar beside me. Okay, now time for an inventory. I’ve still got the guide’s rod and reel in my hand. The fly has snagged on the gunnel so the line is now screaming like I got a tuna. I reach out and grab the oar. Can’t hurt. I even still have my hat on.
Inventory over, its action time. I remember my white water rescue training and put the oar under my left arm, streamward, switch the rod to my right, turn and put my feet together and float downstream, feet up. In this way, I can use the oar as a keel and my feet will bounce off anything that wants to pull me under. Using my arm as a fulcrum, I paddle myself over to shore.
Meanwhile, back at the boat, the quick snap had thrown Mark into Eastwood, tangling the two up. Eastwood pushes Mark away and he then tries to reach me with the oar, finally throwing it at me. Mark and Eastwood then try to turn the boat and come after me. Oopsy, the drag chain is still locked on the log. They get free and then head down to get me.
I’m about 50 to 75 yards downstream. The water was running at about 15,000 cfs, so I moved fairly quickly. I hand Mark the fly rod, Eastwood is relieved. It’s about 1200 bucks worth of equipment and its his. Oh, granted, he’s happy that I’m safe, but that’s a really nice rod. I can totally understand this.
They pick me up, but unfortunately, I’ve no spare clothes. They’re all 15 miles away at the campground. Mark loans me a pair of pants and a shirt. Mark and I are not the same size, so I look like some back country bum with a rope belt.
We fish the rest of the day without much luck. Yes, we catch fish, but more on the size that we got with the chuckin’ and duckin’. None of those 7 to 10 pounders we were looking for.
Oh well, I was fishing and not working. ]]> Frank Reid http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?9-I-ve-looked-at-the-White-from-both-sides-now Spring River http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?8-Spring-River Fri, 05 Dec 2008 03:48:42 GMT We have had an opportunity to examine some of the data we have collected from the Spring River. The water temperature at the spring averaged 15.4... We have had an opportunity to examine some of the data we have collected from the Spring River. The water temperature at the spring averaged 15.4 degrees with a range of 14.2 to 16.1 degrees Celsius. Depending upon the season, the water temperature increases or decreases the further you get from the spring. Water temperature depends on radiant heating from the sun and radiation of heat to the air from the river.

Oxygen saturation at the spring averaged 5.91 ppm with a range of 5.23 to 6.25 ppm.Once the water goes over the dam the Oxygen saturation increases greatly. The average Oxygen saturation at Hardy was 9.77 ppm with a range of 9.46 to 10.1 ppm. At Imboden the Oxygen saturation was 8.46 ppm with a range of 7.78 to 9.53 ppm. The slight decrease in Oxygen saturation at Imboden may be explained by the fact that the nature of the river changes. There are fewer water falls and the river flows much slower.

The pH of the spring is 8.12 with a range of 7.95 to 8.27. This is what would be expected from water flowing through underground limestone caverns. Alkaline rivers generally have higher numbers of invertebrates and greater diversity.

The numbers and diversity of the invertebrates can be used to assess the health of a stream. Some are very sensitive to stress caused by pollution, habitat modification, or severe natural events. Others are more tolerant. Taking samples of freshwater invertebrates and identifying the organisms can reveal if a body of water is healthy or ill, a process known as biomonitoring.

In our sampling, Scuds (Amphipoda) were by far the most abundant invertebrates found. We identified, one Stonefly species (Plecoptera), five or more different caddis (Trichoptera) including Hydropsychidae, (see picture on previous post) Helicopsychidae whose case resemble a snail shell, and several other cased caddis. We found two different species of Mayflies one a clinger and the other a free swimmer. Midge larva of various kinds as well and annelid worms were found. Black fly larva were also found. We found two different water beetles including a Water Penny (Coleoptera). Water mites were also present as well as two different species of snails. Although this survey was very unsceintific, it does appear that there is a large number and diversity of invertebrates at Lassiters.

In another experiment we looked for contamination of the water by coliform bacteria. Although the bacteria themselves may not be harmful, their presents suggest harmful fecal contamination may be present. The source of coliform bacteria may not all come from human sewage. Animal feces can also contribute and the presence of coliform bacteria and would not be unexpected especially following the severe spring flooding of last year. We did find coliform contamination at all three sites. Our measurements were not quantitative but the samples at Hardy and Imboden did become positive faster than the one from the spring. This suggest higher bacterial counts at Hardy and Imboden. See the attached thumbnail of the results. A yellow color indicates the presence of coliform bacteria. ]]> mlack http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?8-Spring-River Green Rock Worms http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?7-Green-Rock-Worms Thu, 06 Nov 2008 01:46:01 GMT I have decided to Blog about some of the invertebrates Mikey and I have found on the Spring River. I have been fishing this river for years and... I have decided to Blog about some of the invertebrates Mikey and I have found on the Spring River. I have been fishing this river for years and often have found free living caddis, also known and the green rock worm or rock rollers. They are usually found in the fastest sections of riffles under loose, course materials. They move by crawling and are the only caddis that do not live in a case or retreat. As they crawl, they spin a silk thread which helps them hold onto rocks.

Although they do not construct a case or shelter to live in, they do construct a shelter for the pupal stage. Mature larva construct a shelter by assembling small stones in a pile. Some of the stones may be much larger than the larva, which accounts for the name rock roller. This structure is attached to the bottom of a large rock by silk. These structures can be easily seen when the rock is lifted out of the water. All loose gravel falls off the rock and a small pile is still firmly attached. Click on the thumbnail to see a larger picture of the pupa structure.

You can tease the rocks apart and find the larva or pupa. The larva will often stay in the shelter a short while before pupating. If you find a pupa, you will know that you will have a caddis hatch in one to two weeks. Click on the second thumb nail for a larger picture. You will be able to see the worm.

The abundance of the green rock worm may explain why the partridge and green soft hackle is so successful on this river. ]]> mlack http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?7-Green-Rock-Worms First time fly tying experience...... http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?6-First-time-fly-tying-experience Sun, 19 Oct 2008 19:30:04 GMT T-BIRD had a great idea....

Let's see who has had the most unusual experience in tying your flys! Just for giggles and grins - post your "memorable" experience with a Vice....

Now remember....keep the working clean - after all the women can always play payback!

Anyone wanting to share a little blood...uih, I mean stories? :) ]]> Howard Malpass http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?6-First-time-fly-tying-experience <![CDATA[Some comments on Conclave '08 and '09]]> http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?5-Some-comments-on-Conclave-08-and-09 Wed, 15 Oct 2008 20:40:30 GMT I posted on a local guide's forum for any comments, concerns, ideas, etc. about this year's conclave and what could be done to make next year better. Here are some of the comments I have received so far. I hope all involved in the '09 Conclave will take notice:
:)


I would like to see a second casting pool next year if possible, it was hard to get access to it in-between classes and other people testing rods
My only real complaint, and l know others who think also was the cost of and the food provided Saturday, it was about OK. The deal the guys put on for us Thursday was way better, and so was the cook out we enjoyed with the guys at Copper Johns, that was a blast.

Agreed the casting pool was not adequate, and l think also the seminar rooms need attention, kind of like working in an open barn. If the weather had of been cold and windy that would have been no fun for programs held there.

I would like to see two casting pools. One for the demo's and the other for those wishing to try out rods.
1. Improve the Food Service.
The food was ok at best. Perhaps offer up an additional location (perhaps a BBQ cart outside). We tried to grab a bite for lunch around 2pm and found that they were out of almost everything. They made do, but again food is a lot cheaper than negative word of mouth.

2. Photo Contest
I didn't even know about the photo contest. I had several shots that I would have liked to submit. Perhaps try and push this with the local clubs to get information in the hands of members.

3. Facilities
*An additional lunch serving location.
*Seating for the lunch crowd was in HIGH demand.
*Perhaps an outside tent w/ tables for the smoking crowd to congregate and sit around and generally BS. It would also offer a place for people to sit and have lunch.
*Perhaps set up a designated area for rod testing and move rod manufacturers outside and give them a place to cast rods that is separate from the general casting / competition yard and casting pool.

4. Participants
*Any chance of getting boat manufacturers to participate in the conclave. Is there room to have them there (sort of like a fly fishing boat show).
*I was surprised at how few of the local lodges / guides had booths set up. (Is there a breakdown of where your attendees are traveling from).

It all ended way too soon. There is just too much to do in a VERY short period of time.

The gift shirts for the fly tyers were really special. I will certainly treasure mine. The food vendors could be a bit better and the auction could run much faster.

Let me add a hearty AMEN about the speed (or lack thereof) of the auction and the awards banquet. They both lasted way too long.. I left a 9 pm Friday night before the best items came up to bid.

The awards banquet food serving was slow (need two serving lines), a lot of business was covered and took a long time. Kelly Galloup made up for it with a superb fast paced, humorous presentation.

The food was no better than at the Ramada in past years. Maybe not as good. My steak may have had 3 good bites without fat and gristle. Why two potato side dishes?

I really didn't like the entertainment on Thursday night.

I'd agree 110% about the casting pool (we need 2 of 'em) being totally inadequate this year. Also the food service and seating .....fairly cruddy. We do need a mess tent somewhere.

Putting rod reps outside would take a hellaciously big tent.

I really enjoyed the people who catered /cooked our breakfast and lunch meals at the fairgrounds. They weren't there last year and the food definitely wasn't as good. They did have a problem with the amount of food and number of potential customers this year. Previously that didn't seem to be a problem. I would like to see them invited back next year since their food was good, and I heard no complaints as far as taste or quantity other than after their major runs when they did run low. They didn't plan evidently for the number of people who showed up.

The auction does need to be sped up. That is my big complaint! I am used to going to many auctions; slow auctions generally die a slow, sorry death. I slept or rested my eyes through at least half of that one Friday night.

If you want to get the younger generations involved you have to promote the kids side of conclave more. As a father of 2 younger than the age of 6 I will take my kids to any outdoor activity there is to keep them away from the television and video games. You have a fantastic chairman of the youth conclave in Kevin and his staff and I can not sing there praises enough. ]]> Terry Beeson http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?5-Some-comments-on-Conclave-08-and-09 Wanted....Club Presidents !!!! http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?4-Wanted-Club-Presidents-!!!! Sat, 11 Oct 2008 04:22:42 GMT Gentlemen & Ladies...

If possible, I would appricate the oppetrtunity to seek your assistance in a venture never attempted in the past. This is a discussion between the Council and the individual Clubs and the Regions which they make up.

This has never been tried in the past...that we know of, and will bed something which will be grassroots, but it has the ability to making the roots up to a full grown tree!

Please join with me in this form of communications and contact me either on this forum or on my private e-mail: whmalpass@hotmail.com

Thank you and I look forward to hearing from you. If there are some presidents who you know that are not on the system, let them know about it and let's all get involved.

Respectfully yours,

Wm. Howard Malpass
Vice President, Development ]]> Howard Malpass http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?4-Wanted-Club-Presidents-!!!! From Martin Seldon http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?3-From-Martin-Seldon Thu, 09 Oct 2008 14:42:16 GMT I just received this and felt I needed to pass this on to every one. This years conclave team did an outstanding job, and the people that were at the... I just received this and felt I needed to pass this on to every one. This years conclave team did an outstanding job, and the people that were at the conclave did a lot in setting the tone and sharing the worm hospitality that was felt by all. I pass this note on to the people that served to make this a supper year and to the rest of the council for your part in making others feel that they too belong.

The Southern Council FFF Conclave, Mountain Home, AR Was a Blast

For over 30-years I’ve heard great things about the Southern Council FFF Conclave in Mountain Home, Arkansas but somehow never made it. I jumped at the chance when past Flycaster’s Treasurer, Jon Mikkelsen, called from Owassa, OK, offered to pick me up at the Tulsa Airport, and then drive us to Mountain Home in his 32 ft motorhome. It was under a three hour flight to Dallas and then an easy hour to Tulsa and John’s home. We left the next morning for the 225 mile drive to Conclave and arrived in time for Thursday night Welcoming Party

This great SCFFF even normally attracts 700-750 people. With this year’s economic morass, registration was around 500. Also very interesting is that SC Conclaves start on Thursdays with a full schedule of seminars and programs. The large fly tying and exhibit hall (with 26 vendors) are open Friday and Saturday. Sunday is restricted to an annual FFF membership meeting and then a meeting of the new Board of Directors, who were elected in the membership meeting.

It was great to see TFO President Rick Pope in his booth and reps for Sage, Redington, Rio, Scientific Anglers, Simms, Ross, Echo, Lamson, Airflow, St. Croix, as well as local shops, guides, rod makers, lodges, and a lot more including Davy Wotton and Wapsi.

Unfortunately we arrived after registration was shut down and not knowing that they were serving dinner from what was on the web site, ate before the party.
Tyson donated all the chicken for the dinner, and the Fort Worth Fly Fishers cooked dinner and BBQ’d the chicken. Also obvious was the camaraderie between the some 32 clubs, in this largest FFF Council, and the very large number of volunteers and committees handling all the details. Conclave activities uniquely included Fly Tying and Casting Coaches for those that did not take the seminars and there were casting games, and a one-day youth conclave. THE SC even had a great program with ads to pay the cost and included all the details as well as a list of all Council Certified Casting Instructors and the biographies of all participants.

Friday was our day to fish the White River tailwater fishery. We called our old friend Dale Fulton who has been active in the Federation when he was in Montana and who ran the Blue Ribbon Fly Shop in Mountain Home until a year or two ago when he sold the shop to the Cookes and opened Fulton’s Lodge on the river. Dave booked Steve Nelson for us who picked us up at Denton’s RV Park for a quick three miles to the Rim Shoals access located about 20 miles down from the dam. Most of the guides on the White use a very different White River Riverboat that is 20 ft, 7 inches long, is very thin at the front and has almost no draft. We spent the entire day covering the area about three miles upstream from the access to a mile or two below. Although I was not thrilled with using chuck-and-duck egg flies with a large split shop and an indicator on an 11 foot, 3X leader we must have had close to a 50 rainbow (to 15 inches max) day, nothing to sneeze at. The trout wanted nothing of the traditional pink San Juan Worm that day. Two other Tulsa Fly Fishers went out with a guide who used a wooden driftboat who took them nine miles downriver and had a great day on mostly large browns on grasshoppers and streamers. Another major factor is that they are drawing down Bull Shoals Dam to get flood protection this winter creating flows of over 16,000 cfs.

Saturday night was the Council Awards Banquet and then the auction. The SC Awards includes many of the FFF awards: Man and Woman of the Year. Federator of the Year, Club of the Year, Fly Tyer and Junior Fly Tyer of the years, Teacher of the Year, Conservation Award of the Year, and President’s Award. Two other awards of interest are the Friend (/s) of the Southern Council Award, and Tall Tale Teller Award (to the best and loudest).

There was a large silent auction, a regular, and a bucket raffle, that was all over by 2:00 pm on Saturday. They had been selling tickets on a Clackacraft Drift boat for some time and gave that away as well. The live auction started around 7:30 p.m. and ran for two hours. 52 items were auctioned off for a gross of $17,000. The low attendance this year impacted the auction as did having the major fly plates at the end. The Legends plate went for $1,000, an Earl Stanek plate at $1,600 and
The Fly Tyers Plate done by Harvey Ragsdale, with museum quality, similar to Steve Jensen’s plates, at $500. There were Tibor, Ross and Able Reels, a Leo Eck Bamboo Rod and rods by Echo, TFO, Sage, Orvis, Grey’s, and St Croix. The Winston Rod of your choice that went for $450. A Billy Munn fly went at $400.

A special auction item is a VIP Package for the following year’s event. The same couple that went this year purchased it again for next year for $350. It includes: 3 Nights Lodging, All admission fees, 2 Paid Classes/day, VIP Dinner with the Conclave headliners, Reserved Table for 8 at the Banquet (but other 6 pay). Table is picked to eat on the buffet line right after their head table, Drink Tickets, OK $50Thre will be thr Drake

I really enjoyed Conclave Headliners Kelly Galloup, Rhea Topping, and Tim Rajeff, Tim came a did a great job filling in when Mel Krieger became ill. I was very to see other old FFF Friends including: Norm Crisp, Allen Cruse, Steve Jensen, John Lincoln, and Art Mazzier. Outgoing Council President Cheryl Knight could have not been more gracious and closed the evening with a request for and by distributing FFF Pledge Cards to help the Federation handle the cost of its planned move to Colorado.

All in all, a really great weekend. Try it, you’ll like it ]]> Michael http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?3-From-Martin-Seldon Conclave 2008 http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?2-Conclave-2008 Wed, 08 Oct 2008 02:12:55 GMT Thanks for the memories. I will look forward to being back in 2010. Dennis Thanks for the memories. I will look forward to being back in 2010.
Dennis ]]> Dennis Slane http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?2-Conclave-2008 2008 Conclave http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?1-2008-Conclave Mon, 06 Oct 2008 22:35:02 GMT OK everyone... Relax. I finally collapsed. Well, almost. Maybe tonight when I get home from work... I have to say, that even though Michael... OK everyone... Relax. I finally collapsed. Well, almost. Maybe tonight when I get home from work...

I have to say, that even though Michael worked my... uh... (in case Sister is reading) rear off, this year's Conclave was the best for me. I am tired, exhausted, hung over, beat, bushed, spent, drained, and a zombie, but very gratified that Conclave went so well.

I can't thank enough those who pitched in and helped with all the set up, rearranging, and tear down. I was just the Facilities Chair. Everyone else did the real work.

Every year I thiink Conclave should be a much longer event. From a participant's standpoint, I never have time to go to all the classes, see al the tiers, cast all the rods, pick through all the goodies, fish, or visit with old and new friends as much as I would like.

I never wet a line this year other than a couple of rods on Saturday morning before anyone else got to the fairgrounds. I had the casting pond all to myself, and found a couple I want to add to my arsenal.

Other highlights include:

Thursday night dinner by the Texas Contention.

The auction - always entertaining.

Friday night dinner and party at Copper John’s with the Kansas Contention.

Barry Dauphin’s hot peanuts.

FREE popcorn!

Hearing a first time Conclaver from Mississippi talk about being like a “kid in a candy store!”

Cary Marcus' TFO cap.

Opening Saturday morning early enough to go out and cast a few rods in the casting pond before anyone else got there.

The guys from Project Healing Waters and the outrageous flies!

Dennis Slane’s dutch oven lunch.

My wife’s first casting lesson with Jeff Trigg.

Cindy’s SECOND casting lesson with Tim Rajeff.

Beer and bull with the guides and vendors by the back door.

Watching them scatter when the guard – a Baxter County Deputy – showed up.

Kelly Galloup’s Saturday night program – HILARIOUS! ]]> Terry Beeson http://forums.southerncouncilfff.org/entry.php?1-2008-Conclave