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Wednesday, August 27th, 2008
Posted by Jon Aqui @ 07:02:14 pm
"Come down next Tuesday, that's when George will be in." "Next Tuesday" happened to be the day that "George" would be previewing some of Simms' and Sage's 2009 releases. Ever the gear junkie, I raced down to the shop during my lunch hour to find the back table stacked with all sorts of goodies from fly fishing's favorite "S" companies. Here's a glimpse of things to come:  A completely new lineup of Sage reels. These things actually blew me away. I used to think that the old Sage reels were cool, but these guys raise the bar even higher. From small game to big and from entry level to high end, Sage's 2009 reel offerings should be hot.  Check this out, cigar fans. You may remember another company doing this a few years back and Sage has revived the idea--rod tube humidors. Available as singles or a set of four for $200, I gave these a thorough inspection and have to admit I was impressed. Expect to see me on the water with one of these next year!  Think you've got the best boots out there? Think again, the new G4 Guide boots take the solid (but heavy design) of the old G3 Guide boot and reduce the weight by 35%, and...  ...will be offered with Vibram soles, complete with "stud receptacles." For those of you familiar with this material, this is a huge jump forward from Simms' Aquastealth soles.  And in the wader lineup, Simms presents the new Headwater waders, replacing both the short-lived Riversheds and better-known L2's. Check out the G3 chest pocket and reinforced lower leg panels. If you can believe it, these guys are selling for less than $300 AND also come in a pants version!  This feature may look familiar and you may associate it with a hefty price tag, but...  ...fear not! Simms offers the bladder-friendly zipper option on their new Freestone waders. Here's more good news: You can have them for less than $300. Other notable mentions:  The G4 jacket now comes in a new color.  And for those of the spey persuasion, this should turn your crank, especially if you're a Tibor fan: the Tibor spey. Built on a Gulfstream chassis, but slightly smaller and wider, this baby comes with the famous Tibor drag and a few aesthetic modifications, not to mention a sweet moss-green finish. Anyone drooling yet? :) If anything in this entry catches your fancy, give Puget Sound Fly Co. a call at 253-839-4119. None of it will be available until next year, but I have a feeling some of this stuff already has a waiting list forming...
Categories: Fly Fishing
Monday, August 18th, 2008
Posted by Jon Aqui @ 08:07:35 pm
Where: Cowlitz River Song of the day: "The Metal," Tenacious D  5:30AM, Saturday morning. Expected high of the day, 98 degrees. For the moment, things were cool. Steve Buckner, our guide for the day, pointed out our respective runs and described his approach to fishing them. Wisps of vapor rose from the river's surface like curtains pulling back, revealing the slices of fishy water I had daydreamed about for the past week. "Go through this with a fine-toothed comb--there's no need to rush here." Steve's words eased my racing mind. Rushing is all I seemed to be doing this season--rushing to get there, covering the run quickly so I could dash to the next piece of water. "I almost never see anyone fishing here." For the first half hour, I held my breath, expecting to see the parade of boats I'd grown accustomed to. Nada. We had the river to ourselves.  And down the run we went. Each of us picked our sections apart as best we could and were lucky enough to find some willing cutties, but no steelhead. In lieu of our quarry, we received instruction in identifying a variety of holding water and, as Steve put it, letting our flies "hunt" through every run. We were living out the proverbial "teach a man to fish" scenario. :) From that point on, every swing became a study in presentation: casting angle, current speed, proactive line management--these elements as well as more subtle ones became points of intense focus. Too much focus, probably, since it was suddenly lunch time.  Nothing like a great homemade burger to clear your thoughts! :) After our mid-day break we headed into the home stretch. Steve continued to relate more information to us, explaining more about water speed and presenting the fly to the fish. Once again, I slipped into student mode, applying things as I stepped down each run. Ironically, I was so engrossed by how the fly fished through the current that the thought of actually hooking a steelhead ceased to be a concern. And of course, that's when it happened. Right at the bottom of the swing, not more than 5 feet off the bank, a fish pulled the slack loop from my hand. This was no cutthroat--he move out into the current and rod it 10 yards downstream before the 7 weight turned him back upstream. Foot by foot I pulled him closer until he lay within a rod length. Then he did something I didn't (but should have) expect: he burst upstream of me. By the time I could figure it out, the long-shanked hook worked its way free. And so did the fish. I didn't scream. I didn't run after it. I wasn't even upset. Instead, I thought, "That was cool," and turned to Don, who had walked down to observe, and shrugged. After the initial rush, processing crept into my brain...having been in learning phase all day, it was all too easy to analyze what just happened. "Should I have swept the rod downstream?" "Was the 8lb Maxima strong enough to handle me horsing the fish if I did?" "Did I baby the fish too much?" Thankfully, Steve walked down and we discussed things. In short the answers are, "Yes," "Yes" and "Maybe." :) We had just gone from a good day to a great as we headed into the last run before heading back upstream. I figured I'd fish through it quickly, again concentrating on the fundamentals we'd been studying throughout the day and doubting the chance that I'd hook another steelhead. "You're just getting into the cream of it," Steve said, made its way downstream. I can't remember what we were discussing but in the middle of my sentence, my line jerked. "No way," I thought, setting the rod. "Yup, that's a steelhead--you saw your line move, right." I nodded. This fish was bigger, about 7 to 8 pounds by the guide's estimation, and this time, I leaned on the Maxima, attempting to swing it into the shallows. After a short but spirited fight and with both Steve's watching... ...I lost the fish, again! Like the previous fight, this fish shook his head and worked the hook free. This time, a bit of frustration came through as well as a few more questions--all of which Steve handled diplomatically without so much as even hinting to the fact that, quite frankly, I suck at fighting steelies. :) In essence, I could have fought it even harder and that I should get over my fear of 8 pound tippet. "Don't beat yourself up, though. Just take a breather--when was the last time you hooked two steelhead, after all?" He had a very good point. Minutes later, we dashed upstream, racing the setting sun. Only to fall prey to the temptation of that very first run. Steve slowed the boat down and looked at the three of us for a consensus. Three nods came back and we hopped out. "It's all yours, man."  And against the backdrop of a day reminiscent of one I had on the Deschutes, we fought back the sunset.
Categories: Fly Fishing, Freshwater
Wednesday, August 13th, 2008
Posted by Jon Aqui @ 10:48:36 pm
Where: Puget Sound Song of the day: "Mad World," Gary Jules Seeing as how a few better than average reports have been coming in from the salt, I thought it might be a good time to check things out. Following my typical summer fishing protocol, we left before daybreak and fished the sunrise at a beach I suspected would hold a few coho and maybe even a searun. What we found was both encouraging and frustrating: consistent boils at different ranges but no takers. Figuring we should find more promising waters, we checked out a few other spots, only to have our light two handers outgunned by the now prevalent breeze. Shrugging the wind off, we decided to work a nearby rip--it was good practice, anyway, and besides, I was curious about what a smaller fish would feel like on my ultralight spey rod. I had bought the rod specifically for the salt and today was just as much a reconnaissance mission as it was a fine tuning of equipment.  Luckily, I was able to accomplish both, albeit in a half-baked way. :) Bottom line: there are fish in the Sound folks, my guess is that they're last year's resident coho, plus about 3 pounds. Judging by a few of the jumpers way out there, it's safe to assume that a few migratory fish are out there as well.
Categories: Fly Fishing, Saltwater
Sunday, August 3rd, 2008
Posted by Jon Aqui @ 09:44:49 pm
Where: Cowlitz River Song of the day: "Say It Ain't So," Weezer After feeling pretty wiped out and taking last weekend off, I was ready to hit the water. Rather than beat a seemingly dead horse and, more importantly, avoid the inevitably disastrous Seafair traffic, we pointed the Scion south. When last we were there, the river was much higher, visibly faster and cold. Scratch that last part. The river was still cold. :) "This water's freezing." The thermometer read 50 degrees. Riiight. ;) As first light arrived, so did the fish. A splash here, a jump there. Some of them were within range of my meager casting ability. They were definitely here. "Must be the rain." Or not--what do I know? I'm a beginner at this steelheading thing, after all... Combined with the overcast, our confidence levels rose and two-stepped down the run, our worries of frozen legs shirked in favor of touching metal. We had to hurry; along with building daylight came the typical boat traffic. As a few of them zipped up and downstream, a driftboat floated by. "Hey, how ya doin?" "Good." "Started fishing yet?" "No. Any bite--is that a hookup?" It was. The slack loop left my hand and in the middle of his question, I raised the rod tip. The fish erupted from the surface, angry at the Gamakatsu stuck in its face. It bolted upstream. I reeled in an effort to keep up. Back downstream. "Damn," I thought. "This guy's big." He bulldogged me to the left, then the right. I shifted the rod to keep his head pointed upstream. A few minutes later, he swung into the shallows. I tried to ease him closer, but he panicked. I gave in, letting him run a bit.  There he goes! On his next visit to the shore, I caught my first real glimpse.  Easy now... He was THICK. Flipping him on his side, he seemed subdued. I put the rod down, grabbed my sink tip and moved down to the leader. Much thicker than last year's fish, this brute was of hatchery origin, with a fat wrist. A wrist I was about to wrangle. Leader in my left hand, I reached down... And the fish freaked out. With no give on the line, he snapped the 15 pound 0X. In desperation, I grabbed for his tail anyway, hoping he wouldn't realize he was free. A stupid thought. My attempt only helped to upright him. And off he went. Naturally, I gave chase.  "Nooo!!! Come back! @$#%&*!!!" For a second, I just stood there. "No way, no way." Dejected, I walked to the bank in silence and sat down. My hands shook--the joy, the loss and, of course, the chilly water had begun to take their toll. Replaying the events in my head, I decided to rest my thoughts on the positive and move on. I stood up and turned to Don. "You're up dude, I'll start above you." No sense dwelling on it. ;)
Categories: Fly Fishing, Freshwater
Wednesday, July 23rd, 2008
Posted by Jon Aqui @ 11:30:52 am
More thoughts on steelheading. It's something I've been thinking about for a while, but haven't been able to explain properly. Hopefully, you'll understand my gibberish. :) Click here to check it out.
Categories: Fly Fishing
Tuesday, July 15th, 2008
Posted by Jon Aqui @ 08:27:03 am
Where: Banks Lake Song of the day: "Lake of Fire," Nirvana "Jeez, this is a popular place today." Just as we were gearing up, some guy in a Tacoma drove by, rubbernecked us, and then pulled a sharp U turn. Another truck was about to do the same. "Go ahead, I'm always too slow." "No worries--hand me your line." I strung up Jan's rod and we scrambled down the path to the flat. But to no avail. Within twenty minutes of getting in, we were surrounded.  A club outing, perhaps? It didn't matter, there were fish to be had.  This guy was milling around happily in the mid-morning sun, rooting around for the usual when I plopped a chunk bunny fly in front of his snout. There were fish all around us, some cruising, some eating and Jan and I took our fair share of shots at them. But honestly, things were slow. For whatever reason, *cough* too many people! *cough*, the fish seemed unwilling. There was about an hour or so, though, when things actually heated up.  For instance. :)  Persistence pays off!  The highlight of the day, strangely enough, was this little catfish--my first ever. Weird. As we worked the flat, we realized that everyone around us, boats included (oh yeah, they brought boats into that shallow water) wasn't doing the same.  So we moved to the far side of the flat. That's when I confirmed my suspicion. With a bit more clarity to the water, it became apparent that this place was hammered the today before. By lots of people--there were dozens of bootprints everywhere.  Which explains why it was so dead. ;) All that pressure would be enough to put hundreds of carp on edge. And send us on our merry way home.
Categories: Fly Fishing, Freshwater
Wednesday, July 9th, 2008
Posted by Jon Aqui @ 07:36:24 am
Added a couple of short entries to the steelhead blog. Click here to check them out. And by the way, for those of you who have missed the videos this past year, you'll be happy to know that I'll be posting vids on this blog! I also wanted to note that I finally finished the blog entry below. Scroll down from the section on carping to read about our adventure at Rocky Ford and see where we ended our weekend.
Categories: Fly Fishing
Monday, June 30th, 2008
Posted by Jon Aqui @ 06:48:42 am
Where: Two rivers, one lake, and one creek Song of the day: "Maps," Yeah Yeah Yeahs WARNING! SUPER LONG BLOG ENTRY AHEAD! Sleep 8, Fishing 28 From 2AM on Friday morning to about 10:30AM on Sunday morning, the ratio of sleep to fishing penciled out at 2 to 7. And the time in between? Spent in prepping for each of those days. The cost may seem steep, but the rewards justified it. Let's rewind to the beginning, shall we? ------------------------------------------------ The alarm's beeping stirred me from the brief two-hour nap. It was two in the morning, and it was go time. I slipped my contacts in, checked my equipment and darted out the door. Today we would initiate our friend in the ways of the fly. Minutes later, Don and Steve jumped in the Scion. As we neared the river, I reassessed my zealousness in setting an early alarm--first light wasn't less than an hour and a half away. Enter the 24-hour drive through at McDonald's. "Are you serving dinner or breakfast?" "Dinner." Jackpot. We grabbed our orders at the second window and made for the water. Despite my early morning hunger pangs, I waited until we were riverside. Once there, I proceeded to wolf down my "breakfast."  Nothing like a Big Mac to start off the day! Belly full, I went about stringing up.  I decided to try out a few tube patterns I tied. The one positive thing I can say about waking up so early is that I can take my time when I get to the water. No bunched waders, misaligned ferrules or sloppy knots.  This time, it was fresh air, unencumbered thoughts and the beginning of a beautiful day to enjoy. :) As I mentioned before, the day's intent was to introduce a friend to fly fishing. Granted, it was a huge gamble to start someone off with spey (not to mention steelhead), but I don't think it deterred this particular initiate. "This is great. It's been so long since I've seen the sun rise."  Well, buddy, there it is. Enjoy. :) Rods ready, I turned to Don. "You want to take him through things?" "Yeah." With the sun gradually lighting the valley, I quickly worked down the first part of the run. Momentarily sated, I turned upstream and witnessed the birth of a new fly angler. Don had Steve working on a double spey. Steve went through each stage, attempting to translate what he heard into what he was doing. I watched him repeat the motions over and over again, making minor adjustments here and there. In my experience, proper execution cannot be attained without diligence. When someone exhibits this ethic in fly fishing, I am encouraged to believe that their efforts will be rewarded with not only good technique but good fish karma. It may not happen that day, but it will happen. Which brings us to the next day... ------------------------------------------------ "It's gotta be 80 already. And it's only 9." Under a sun-filled, bleach-blue sky, the arid landscape's hot fist clenched around us. We welcomed it. Under normal circumstances, the heat would be unbearable--oppressive, even.  But today, the forecasted triple digit temps would be offset by the comfortable waters of a carp-filled desert reservoir. Jan, Steve and Don had made the long trip over to observe the spectacle of the giant, leaping goldfish. "Don't freak out if they run into your legs." Heh. I was only half joking. :) "Let's cut across." I was eager to get to my favorite spot. Maybe too eager. Don took a different direction and hooked one almost immediately.  A good sign. Not long after, I had one, too. We spread out, each man claiming his own piece of water. There was plenty to go 'round. Jan carried on like a kid at Sea World, with "Whoas!" and other such exclamations. Not only did he see big fish, but he ran into them, too. Literally.  "He followed it!" As the day heated up, so did the fishing. We were surrounded by overgrown goldfish. The game was on.  There's a school!  Success! Don was quickly into another one. Since he was within casting distance, I decided to work the same school.  Double!  From my point of view. :)  Say cheese! For a short time, it was carp madness.  Not too shabby! But all things must end and all of sudden, the fish turned off. I turned to the group. "What do you guys want to do? No sense wasting the rest of the day waiting for them to turn back on." They agreed.  "I have an idea..." And it was ditch trout. Nothing like that to top off a day in the desert.  Don drew first blood--again... :)  Followed by this chunky specimen.  And remember what I said about fish karma? Here's Steve's first fly-caught trout--on his second day fly fishing. Congrats, Steve!  Aaaannd one more for good measure! We would've stayed, but there's only so much heat you can take without having to cool off in the water and seeing as how Rocky Ford's a no-wading zone, it was back in the car and off over the mountains. Hours later, the trunk shut and I put the car in "D." "See you all in a few." I meant that literally. This had become and endurance test. :) ------------------------------------------------ This time, I beat the alarm. Three AM didn't seem so bad anymore. Isn't that sick? As I rolled out of bed, I thought I heard my bones creak. How much time passed from when I put my head on the pillow? It didn't matter how much or little sleep I had, the sad fact was that tomorrow was Monday. And that meant returning to the mind-numbing trudgery of Corporate America. No, more sleep would mean squandering precious hours which I could be wringing the life out of.  So an hour later, I picked up two more fishing zombies and we headed back to the beginning of our circuit.  And continued to share more knowledge.  As well as find some knowledge on our own.  And mess with some newly-tied patterns.  We even found time to fish. In the end, endurance will only take you so far and about halfway through the day, we gave in to the scenery, excellent weather and the satisfaction that we spent more time fishing than wasting it. It was time to just sit back and soak it all in.  One of us even managed to get more sleep! :)
Categories: Fly Fishing, Freshwater
Wednesday, June 25th, 2008
Posted by Jon Aqui @ 09:30:30 pm
Where: Back on the river Song of the day: "Surrender," Cheap Trick "It gets to you like that." The guy on the other end knew exactly how I felt. Steelheading has started to consume me. And it's not just the steelhead. It's everything about steelheading. I've come to accept that it's a very low-numbers game--and I've even convinced myself that I like it that way! Crazy? How about daydreaming of walking-pace runs and thinking of traffic as river right or river left? What about buying three new two-handers in as many months? One for super low, clear water, the other for general floating line work and the third for all-around use? Um, yeah...I have it pretty bad.  It's gotten to the point that I'm willing to bribe my buddies with these just so they'll go with me! :)  See what I mean? Look closely...  Heck, I even tied one fly every day for the past week (okay, some days I tied two) to help me cope. ;) Seriously, if you haven't noticed it in recent posts, I've been throwing the two-hander a LOT. That doesn't mean I won't be doing other things, though, so for those of you who enjoy variety, I'll maintain the balance here on this blog. You'll still see saltwater posts, carp, trout, etc. But I've come to enjoy fishing for speying for steelhead so much that I've started a separate blog about summer steelheading in particular--I'm not so much into the winter game. :) To read my inaugural post and see what the blog will be like (I think), click here. In the meantime, look for a report next week from this weekend's carp class (I'm keeping my fingers crossed).
Categories: Fly Fishing, Freshwater
Wednesday, June 18th, 2008
Posted by Jon Aqui @ 10:19:55 pm
Where: On the river Song of the day: "The Way It Is," Bruce Hornsby Summer steelheading is upon us. Days are starting earlier and ending later, making both after work jaunts as well as entire days, complete with mid-day naps, all too tempting. If there's anything I could get lost in at this stage in my fly fishing life, summer steelheading is it. And that's what we did. A few pictures to whet the appetite of those enamored by the summer swing...  Messin' with a Skagit Compact  This seam looked REALLY fishy!  Bill was thinking the same thing we were!  Just enjoying the day...  Diggin' the new DECHO spey...  Might as well try it... Sorry, no fish pics this time around, just a love tap earlier in the day to show for our efforts.  Not that going fishless could ruin a day like this...
Categories: Fly Fishing, Freshwater
Monday, June 9th, 2008
Posted by Jon Aqui @ 10:12:57 pm
Where: Rocky Ford Song of the day: "My Name Is Jonas," Weezer "I spent a lot of time out here. Some weekends I'd head out on Saturday morning and come back that evening. Then I'd do it again the next day. I just wanted to get away." Of course, back then, gas was cheap, my time was free and my experience limited. The perfect formula for feeding an addiction. Sure, I'd fished Rocky Ford over the past years, but not with the same frequency as that year. Back then, 'the ditch' served as a focal point for subsiding the worries, anger and lack of forward direction that seemed to swell my mid twenties. Standing on the foot bridge, I stared at a pig of a trout. As he finned to the left and intercepted a drifting morsel, my eyes refocused on my reflection. The face on the surface looked back with the reassurance that things had changed for the better. A good part of that started with this creek. That must have been the reason why we ended up here--with everything else being either spotty or outright disastrous I can only guess that my Rocky Ford reflex took over. :) "Go get 'em man." Don and I staked out our spots and started lining up drifts. Boy, was I rusty. I must've had a dozen refusals before I had my first take. And when I finally had a bite, I ripped the fly away from the fish!  In the meantime, Don drew first blood. :)  It didn't take long after that to get things going.  And going...  And going.  They love the white rabbit!  Who says men can't multitask? ;)  Whoops! He isn't ready yet!  Now that's a pretty ditch trout.  More multitasking...  "Let's hit the lower stretch." It was like being 26 again. For the next several hours, I had no troubles, no distractions, willing fish and plenty of sunshine.  This was one of those finicky guys from directly downstream of the bridge. Nice job, Don!  Good 'n plenty!  Another generous pocket. "We haven't had a day like this in a long time." "Too long."  Another ditchy for Don.  And me, too! "Wow, it's 5:30 already." Seven straight hours of fishing and for all I cared, it could have been seven more. But a certain level of moderation is something five more years of age has taught me to appreciate, so we called it a day. "So what do you want to smoke? We should celebrate." I knew which answer he was looking for and it was a good one.  "The Antano, dude!" So we smoked, drank, recounted fishing stories and plotted future adventures.  Not a worry in the world and nowhere close to anything that matters, except good fishing. Maybe turning 31 isn't so dreadful, after all. Looking back on things, it's better than turning 26--for me, at least. Either way, it's not like the trout care. ;)
Categories: Fly Fishing, Freshwater
Monday, June 2nd, 2008
Posted by Jon Aqui @ 09:20:36 pm
Where: NOT the Cedar River Song of the day: "Are You Happy Now?," Michelle Branch "The Cedar is definitely a no-go." Our favorite urban stream's flows, like the majority of the other rivers', were out of control.  Bummer... This couldn't have come at a worse time for me, either. I've gone fishless for the past month and the itch for a tug had really gotten to me. I ran through the list of options in my head. I didn't want to go over the pass. Stocked trout didn't hold any appeal. Chucking clousers in the salt, hoping to find a cuttie or maybe a coho didn't sound fun, either. And by ironic process of elimination, steelheading became the fishing plan d'jour. While most rivers were high, we knew of one that wasn't.  And by six in the morning, we were on it. I tied on a marabou spey and chucked it into the run, slipping into the cast, swing, step formula. Halfway down, I felt a tug and let the slack line slip from my fingers. A miss. A rock, maybe? It couldn't have been. So I went through again. Another tap. I let the line slip again, lifted the rod slightly and...  ...shook the skunk off...kind of. :( Not exactly what I was looking for, but bringing something to hand helped me cope with my fishing doldrums.  And it even led to a few real trout later in the run! They weren't huge and they weren't steelhead, but after a month of strikeouts, I'll take it.
Categories: Fly Fishing, Freshwater
Wednesday, May 28th, 2008
Posted by Jon Aqui @ 07:40:53 am
Puget Sound Fly Co. will be celebrating its 5 year anniversary this Saturday and to commemorate the occasion, they're giving away free stuff! First, there's free food. Anybody in the market for a free rod? What about a free reel? How about a free hat with ANY purchase? Yup, they're giving that and more away this weekend. And on the off chance that free stuff doesn't float your boat, why not throw your name in the ring for some casting games? If you win you'll get, you guessed it, free stuff! In between the food and the games, don't miss out on the guest fly tiers whipping up some of their favorite patterns. So stop by--the Yak's blown (among other popular rivers) and summer steelhead is closed until Sunday, after all. And let's not even talk about the salt... Can't remember where the shop is? They're located at: Puget Sound Fly Company Give them a call with any questions. See you there!
Categories: Fly Fishing
Monday, May 19th, 2008
Posted by Jon Aqui @ 07:10:01 am
The callbox beeped and the gate swung open. Ten thirty on a sunny Thursday morning with no where to go but south. I pulled into Clark's driveway and started throwing things into the FJ.  So much for packing light! ;) I was headed to my first Spey Clave, an event where a large segment of the great minds in spey, along with those that hope to gain some of their collective knowledge, gather. Held on the Sandy river, we had hoped to get there early and fish some of its runs before the festivities began. But the rising temperature wouldn't have it. Almost every river we crossed showed signs of high water and heavy siltation--the flip side of having a hot, sunny weekend. Each instance tore chunks from our optimism, replacing it with the doubt that we would get to fish the Sandy at all. And we knew for certain once we saw crossed over it. "That river's punched." I looked over the bridge as we crossed. The Sandy ran high and milky brown, like someone poured a lake full of Yoohoo! in upstream.  Such is to be expected in 90+ degree temps, though. In the space of hours and a few hundred miles, our primary focus on fishing...  ...changed to relaxing around camp! "It's just good to be out here." I agreed--I hadn't been away from the office all year and it was time. "So what do you want to do tomorrow, then?" I asked. It was a stupid question. It was the Spey Clave, after all. "Well, they'll be setting up tomorrow."  Which meant rod testing...  And more rod testing... :) By the end of the day, Clark and I had messed around with all three casting methods and, of course, rods matching those schools' techniques, including some new Meiser sticks. By mid Saturday morning, the gathering was in full swing. The test casting area burst with Skagit heads, long belly lines and loops of all shapes and distances.  While everything you could imagine in the world of spey, from rods to lines to reels, beckoned attendees to this location.  "Did someone say reels?" ;) Over the previous weeks, I had been contemplating buying a really, really light spey rod. From all accounts I had read, the Dec Hogan ECHO 4 weight was the one. Now was my moment--the Airflo/ECHO booth was yards away. Two recognizable faces sat behind the table--I'd never met them before but had been looking forward to. Mike and Jay introduced themselves and after a quick discussion about the 4 weight, they sent me to the lawn with 3 separate lines. Sweet! After about 20 minutes I had made my decision. "You only get one birthday a year," I thought. Translation: I'm buying this thing! :) The rest of the day, we milled around, threw a few more sticks...  ...and watched a seminar. All in all the clave was great. The heat? Not so much. And by the end of the day, both of us had a pretty good headache going and had seen all there really was to see. "You ready?" I nodded and an hour later we were cruising down the highway, headed home. Not exactly what I had in mind for a few days off, but I'm sure I'll be able to make up for it this coming weekend in between wine tastings. ;)
Categories: Fly Fishing
Wednesday, May 14th, 2008
Posted by Jon Aqui @ 08:42:27 pm
"Since we're not going to the Bahamas, I was thinking that we could go to the Spey Clave." "Sounds like a plan." And with that, the idea of a $1,000 plane ticket quickly faded away. So instead of the Bahamas, Clark and I are headed to Oregon to fish for springers and check out the Spey Clave on the Sandy River. I haven't taken a vacation from the corporatocracy yet this year and it's TIME. And with temps ranging from the mid 80s to low 90s, we couldn't have picked a better time!  Plus, I get to put my new rod and reel through its paces! If you're going to be at the Clave and we haven't met yet, don't hesitate to say hi and introduce yourself. Hope to see you there!
Categories: Fly Fishing, Freshwater
Monday, May 5th, 2008
Posted by Jon Aqui @ 09:08:40 pm
Where: Yakima River Song of the day: "Sheep Go To Heaven," Cake "You're at 20," Vern said, pointing me toward my station. After setting up, I took stock of this year's event. Judging by my initial impression, the transformation of the NW Tying Expo into the Washington FFF Conclave seemed to be a success. As I'd never done this sort of thing before, I figured the best thing to do was conform (which I HATE doing) and do what everyone else was doing. That is to say, start tying flies.  When in Rome... Before long, folks started to file in. At first, a few looky-loo's. And then a familiar face, then two, then a steady stream of fishing reports from all over the place, from Mexico to yesterday's float on the Yak. Time sped by and a quarter to nine become a quarter past eleven.  Despite all that time, I didn't get much tying done. ;) Jamie stopped by the table. "I'm going next!" --------------------------------------- "This is the first time I've been on this side of the mountains this year." "Me too." Jamie was on deck, getting ready to cast. It had been two years since he'd competed in this event. Given that, I abandoned my tying post in favor of supporting a longtime buddy. After a short practice round, he gets the signal to go. The familiar stress of competition lasts for an agonizing five minutes, after which Jamie's scores come back. And they're good. To celebrate his performance, we lit up a couple of cigars and relax on the lawn. It had been far too long since I'd enjoyed a spring afternoon on the dry side. "Well, we've got to go--wineries and all that." A few handshakes and a promise to share a few bottles and we're on our way. As we snake down the highway, I catch glimpses of the Yak. "I'm glad I brought my rod," I think. "Let's hope my plan works so I can fish."  The plan in question, is, of course, to hit as many wineries as possible today to leave time to fish tomorrow. ;) For better or worse, my plan worked.  I did get to fish--but only after buying four cases of wine! :( -------------------------------- To everyone who stopped by to chat: good catching up with all of you and good meeting the new faces! Steve, send me an e-mail so we can fish sometime, salt or not. My e-mail address is ohimo@hotmail.com
Categories: Fly Fishing, Freshwater
Tuesday, April 29th, 2008
Posted by Jon Aqui @ 06:47:44 pm
I need to go fishing!!! It's killing me. I've been deprived for the past two weekends.  Practicing single speys on the Puyallup was the closest I got. There is hope, though: I'll be one of the fly tiers at this year's FFF Conclave at the Ellensburg Fairgrounds (in E-burg, of course) and with any luck I'll be able to squeeze in a little time on the Yak between this event and a commitment I made (foolishly, perhaps?) to do some wine tasting in the Yakima Valley. Anyway...I'll be there from 8:30 to 11:30 on Saturday, May 3rd and will be covering easy to tie, effective Of course, fly tying isn't the only feature offered at this event. In addition to numerous fly tiers, casting and fishing courses will be offered and you can even enter a casting competition and vie for some pretty cool prizes. For more info about the event, visit: http://www.washingtoncouncilfff.org/2008WMain.htm# Hope to see you there--make sure to stop by and share your fishing stories!
Categories: Fly Fishing
Wednesday, April 16th, 2008
Posted by Jon Aqui @ 08:59:39 pm
Where: It doesn't matter, we didn't catch anything ;) Song of the day: "Shipping Up To Boston," Dropkick Murphys "I think this is what we should do for my birthday." Bryan and Don agreed. We had found this year's destination and it involves my growing love for spey. Don't get me wrong, I love fishing the salt. But if I had done things differently, I'd probably be a spey nut instead of a beach bum. It's just as well, though, given gas prices these days. It started innocently enough. The three of us left Bryan's house at a quarter to seven with the intent to ply moving water for steel or spring chinook.  Yeah...not so much. Though the flow seemed perfect for swinging, my guess is we were too late to slide into any of the decent runs and with the sun the way it was...well, let's just say it quickly turned into a good day for casting practice. That, and a little exploration. Taking advantage of the balmy conditions and the longer days, we jumped in the truck in search of other opportunities. It's always easy to leave fish that you don't think are there to find fish you hope are somewhere else. :) And that's how the three of us ended up having this conversation. Looking into the run in front of us made it a no brainer, along with a few other key factors.  We're definitely coming back...soon! Thirty-one is only eight short weeks away. Of course, I don't have to wait until then... ;)
Categories: Fly Fishing, Freshwater
Sunday, April 6th, 2008
Posted by Jon Aqui @ 02:46:57 pm
Where: Hood Canal, Puget Sound, Cowlitz River (whew!) Song of the day: "Shot In The Dark," Ozzy Osbourne "I heard it hasn't been very good this year." "It hasn't, but there are a few spots turning out fish. You up for a bit of driving?" They both nodded eagerly. This class was small, only two as opposed to the regular six. A welcome change and one I felt would benefit this pair. After class, we agreed to meet at the Narrows. If things looked dead, we'd move to other venues. With the next morning came clarity in how we'd approach our day. An on-shoulder wind pushed steadily during our ten minutes of observation. I had hoped to see some sign of life, but to no avail. "Time to exercise our options. Let's find some cutthroat." Ray and Mike jumped in the van, following Don and I to the first stop in what would become a tour of saltwater beaches in both the Canal and the Sound. The beginning of our salty circuit foreshadowed a good day. During the stroll to the beach, I told my companions that our previous excursion produced fish within five minutes of getting wet. A rather exaggerated statement, I'm sure they thought.  And they were right to think that. This fish was caught about twenty minutes after getting in! ;) "This is what I wanted to catch in the first place!" During class, Mike had admitted to approaching fly fishing "backwards." "I'm starting with the salt. I've caught a pink but haven't gotten any cutthroat and I've been out about a dozen times."  Well, Mike, here's to doing things backwards. :) Not content with just one hookup, he went right back to it, plying the nearby rips, searching for proof that it wasn't just luck.  I think that bent rod proves enough, don't you? "Now to catch one on a fly that I've tied myself." I couldn't help but admire his attitude. Clearly, this guy had set goals for the day. The ebb had different ideas, however. It slacked out, killing the good vibes and forcing us (oh no!) to a take a quick pizza break and discuss the next leg of our route. Beach number two put us back in the Sound. "Look straight down as you work the shore. If you see schools of little guys, you know what to do." Not long after, Mike and Ray saw what I was talking about. Chum babies. "Time to reach that second goal," I thought.  So did he. :) Let's see...first cutthroat in the salt. Now first cuttie on a fly he tied. And the other first I forgot to mention, his first fish on a new rod! Talk about getting your groove on... Now I bet you're thinking, "But there were two guys, right? What about the other one?" I had been watching Ray the entire time while Mike burnt up the day with good juju. His calm, laid back demeanor never faltered, his determination never cracked and he fished every rip as thoroughly as a steelheader works a run. You could say he carried on as if the bite was eventual and he was biding his time until it came. Consequently, his disposition offset any concerns I had when we arrived at our last stop. "If they're here, they'll be close, less than forty feet. Of all the cutthroat beaches I fish, this one has given up the biggest." Ray worked line out, following all the "rules" we discussed in class: forty five degrees down current, broken retrieves, etc. At twenty feet away, he followed the last rule--the strip set. The fish fought hard, but the deal was done. A hook planted firmly in the corner of its jaw and the seasoned hand of a guy who grew up fishing for Deschutes River redsides combined to assure Ray's success.  It really was eventual. ;) The chunky fish displayed a deep olive back, a whiter belly than normal and more prominent slash marks. A beautiful post-spawner gorging on chum fry, I suspected. An excellent way to end an excellent day. Inspired, I decided to apply their determination and thoroughness to my own development. By eight the next morning, I was knee-deep in the Cowlitz, practicing with an especially finicky rod, watching Clark toss quick, sharp loops downstream.  I internalized a sigh as I observed the effortless motions and equally potent results. "We all have to start somewhere," I reminded myself.  Just ask these guys.
Categories: Fly Fishing, Saltwater
Friday, March 28th, 2008
Posted by Jon Aqui @ 10:58:46 am
Interested in getting into the salt but don't know where to start? Join me on Friday night (April 4th) and the following day for a crash course on beach fishing. Equipment? Check. Species? Check. Where to find the fish? Check. We'll talk about this and more. Give Puget Sound Fly Co. at 253-839-4119 to sign up and hear about future beach class dates.
Categories: Fly Fishing
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Fly fishing
About Jon: Ever since I caught my first 6-inch pogy on a spincast outfit, I’ve been hooked on fishing. During my freshman year of college, I picked up a book, a cheap fly outfit and a really crummy fly tying kit and proceeded to convince bluegill that my flies were better than the real thing. Practically 10 years later, my old Eagle Claw Featherlight has been replaced by a quiver of rods covering everything from small stream trout to big salmon and the bluegill have taken a backseat to sea-run cutthroat, resident silvers, fat desert trout and everything in between. If it swims, I’m in. Category
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