It's summertime, and the carpin' ain't easy

Carp. Seems all the rage these days in the fly-fishing world. I won't lie to you; I wasn't too keen on the idea of fly fishing for them a few years ago. In my youth I'd fished for them at Pymatuning Res. on the PA side "where the ducks walk on the backs of the carp" (quite literally). After first rejecting the notion of "carping", I recalled my youthful days fishing for carp with breadballs and womrs, and remembered how incredible they faught. Then, I decided I would try my hand at them with a fly.

I've been after them for about 3 or 4 years now. I'm nowhere near figuring them out, everywhere, all the time. Some waters call for high-stick nymph style fishing with heavy flies. Others require small nymphs with pin-point accuracy in your presentation. Others like big meaty flies, but must sink slowly. Others (often in the same water) want a minnow presented to them. Low water conditions this year make it a bit tough to sneak up on these guys. They are very, very wary. I've had a handful break me off just as I set the hook. What other fish has such shear anger, aggression, and fight? Maybe a shark. I've presented a million flies to the same carp in a park pond only to be given the mighty carp-finger. What gives??

The carp is regarded as a prized fighter in most other countries. Here they have a reputation as trash fish, destroyers of habitat, bottom feeders. Certainly some of this is true. They can, in numbers, ruin a shallow lake by eliminating vegetation which provides food/cover for young fish, as well as ducks, geese, swans, etc. I understand that. They are not native to this continent. As most of you that know me/us, we're incredibly against invasives and non-natives. However, the brown trout is one of my favorite fish to pursue. It is native to parts of Germany, Europe, and the like. Yet, they are prized here. Steelhead in Lake Erie, Ontario, Michigan, etc. Pheasants are another example. Chukars are another. Praying mantis. All of these species fit a particular niche that was not currently being filled (usually). This is an argument for another place, as it could get in depth. There is a notion that all niches are indeed filled, and these species take over that particular niche. We'll leave that up in the air.

I digress. The point of all this rambling is simlple: carp are fun as hell to catch, especially on the fly. Shoot them with your bow if you must but leave a few for me and a woolly bugger, would ya?

Wild, Wonderful Brookies of PA- July 2011

Between the record high rainfall earlier this spring (and early summer), and now the dought-like conditions across much of the U.S., our trout fishing has been quite limited. However, there are a few places on this earth where it seams that rain, or lack thereof, has little impact. These places are usually the small feeder creeks, to other feeder creeks, that eventually go into a larger river/lake/etc. They are cold, spring fed little gems. They're often referred to as "blueliners" and are often 15 degrees cooler than the surrounding areas out of the little hollows they inhabit. We drove a few hours into Pennsylvania to one of these blueliners that we'd been wanting to fish for some time. Being fans of dry-fly fishing, and brook trout, we had more than a good day on the water to say the least.

We hiked in tuesday evening, fishing all the way to a campsite where we set up our tarp shelter. We built a fire, and ate Ramen noodles and beef jerky. We hoped we would not need to share our meal with resident black bears. We did not. Though admittedly, we would not have minded so much. Regardless, we carried a .40 cal at all times.

We gorged ourselves earlier in the day, and the next day, with blueberries and red raspberries that were growing in adbundance. We even ate ripe Serviceberries (Amelancher arborea). Pretty tasty, if not a bit mealy in texture. A highlight of the trip was a very large, very old beaver pond that was nearing 4 to 5 acres. We had hoped there would be brookies in the water. We did not catch any, but that doesn't mean they aren't there. A boy can dream, can't he?

The pictures will explain the rest.

Until next time...