"Love for Other Things" by Tom Hennen

It’s easy to love a deer

But try to care about bugs and scrawny trees

Love the puddle of lukewarm water

From last week’s rain.

Leave the mountains alone for now.

Also the clear lakes surrounded by pines.

People are lined up to admire them.

Get close to the things that slide away in the dark.

Be grateful even for the boredom

That sometimes seems to involve the whole world.

Think of the frost

That will crack our bones eventually.

"Love for Other Things" by Tom Hennen, from Darkness Sticks to Everything. © Copper Canyon Press, 2013. 

Rocky Ford Creek Report: A New Man

It was time to take matters into my own hands. It had been too long since I had held a fish in those hands. I knew where a river ran ice-free and steady all winter long, so I packed up and drove to Rocky Ford Creek.

The Rocky Ford Rainbows were out in force, jumping and rising and leaving big wakes as they moved up and down the waterway.

I started sub-surface with a pretty little bead head Woolly Bugger I'd tied up the night before. It was soon plain that the fish weren't interested in that. So I went to my default mode and tied on a big dry that I had on my vest patch.

It floated high and slow and right away got some bumps and nudges. I stayed with it, and after a long drift a fish came up and mouthed it. I raised the rod and missed. I was able to flick the fly right back to the ripples of that first rise, and the fish came back and took it with authority. Pop went the sound of its mouth closing.

This time I got the hookup.

What a beauty, big and heavy and a challenge to bring in. This fish singleheandedly made up for the last month and a half of fishless days.

Here's the fly that did the trick, a little the worse for wear.

I air-dried it and worked it some more, then decided to try out the "Grizzly Adams" I posted awhile ago. There was a series of rises and swirls out in front of me, so I set the fly down in the middle of them, and a fish instantly came half out of the water and took it.

This one was not as big, but just as beautiful, just as spirited. And just as willing to take a dry fly in December.

The clouds had closed in, the wind had picked up, I was getting cold, and I wanted to get a good start for home before dark. So I reeled in and headed for the truck--a new man.

River Report: Tomorrow's Another Day

I got to the river on Friday just one day too late. According to the USGS gauge, the river rose two and a half feet between Thursday and Friday. Just enough to upset my plans.

The weather was good: overcast and temps in the 40s. But there were still random ice floes cracking against the bridge pylon now and then.

I left my waders in the truck, but before heading back home I climbed down the rocks and found a foothold as close to the water as I could. I wanted to see if I could pull something out of the hole behind the pylon.

I've found some nice trout and a few smallmouths tucked in here on other days.

But not this time.

It looked on Saturday like the river had topped out. It should be dropping soon, but it has also turned cold again. Maybe there will be a window between when the river is low enough to wade and it ices up again.

Just remember: tomorrow's another day....

"I Looked Up" by Mary Oliver

"Frost" Shiro Kasamatsu

I looked up and there it was

among the green branches of the pitch pines—

thick bird,

a ruffle of fire trailing over the shoulders and down the back—

color of copper, iron, bronze—

lighting up the dark branches of the pine.

What misery to be afraid of death.

What wretchedness, to believe only in what can be proven.

When I made a little sound

it looked at me, then it looked past me.

Then it rose, the wings enormous and opulent,

and, as I said, wreathed in fire.

"I Looked Up" by Mary Oliver, from Owls and Other Fantasies. © Beacon Press, 2003. 

Rivers

I got a picture and a short video of the river today. Still flowing free. Maybe a little high because of the rain we're still getting.

But nothing at all compared to the Elwha River over on the coast.

The Elwha was freed from its dam recently and is running at flood stage for the first time in a century.

Elwha River at flood stage 12/9 and 12/10 from John Gussman on Vimeo.

Late Season Walk In

Late season walk in. from Luke Bannister on Vimeo.

Fly Tying: And So It Goes...

The ice left sometime Tuesday night. I went out in the wee hours to check and heard geese down on the river again. I hadn't heard or seen any since the freeze up. In the morning I looked out and saw the river flowing free again.

Just some motion in the scenery again was a relief.

Unfortunately, my best window for fishing was Monday and Tuesday. Wednesday had obligations. I didn't even take a picture of the river. Thursday will have obligations as well.

So Friday is my next target. It looks like the weather will cooperate. Maybe the fish will, too.

And who knows what the window will be for an ice-free river?

Meanwhile, I continue to sit down at the vise while I'm waiting for my laptop to load, or while I'm uploading or downloading. I've got a nice pocketful of flies to play with when I'm finally on the water.

I've got a good handful of this bead head rabbit strip number, with different colored tails. I like the look of it....

Hook: Gamakatsu T10-6H #6

Thread: Black

Head: Tungsten Bead

Tail: Marabou, a few strips of flash

Body: Black Crosscut Rabbit Strip, wrapped

Throat: Black wool

Flash: Flashabou

These other two? Just playing. But I do like Matukas. I had some good days with them on the Pere Marquette way back when. This one was to review the pattern. Now I'm going to tie up a few industrial strength versions with lots of bling. You know, a steelhead edition.

And so it goes....

Reminiscing

J&FF Walk Off With Golden Hook

Our friends at Jazz and Fly Fishing have won the Golden Hook award for their video "The Curse." For those of us who have come to enjoy their slightly off-kilter view of Scandanavian fly fishing it is an award well-deserved.

And, for good measure, they posted this link to a story on Le Mouching about the awards ceremony in Oslo. Sounds like a good time was had by all.

"At the Beginning of Winter" by Tom Hennen

"Ice Dawn" Linocut by William Hayes

In the shallows of the river

After one o' clock in the afternoon

Ice still

An eighth of an inch thick.

Night never disappears completely

But moves among the shadows

On the bank

Like a glimpse of fur.

Meanwhile

Trees

Grass

Flies and spiderwebs

Appear alone in the flat air.

The naked aspens stand like children

Waiting to be baptized

And the goldenrod too is stripped down

To its bare stalk

In the cold

Even my thoughts

Have lost their foliage.

"At the Beginning of Winter" by Tom Hennen, from Looking Into The Weather. © Westerheim Press, 1983.

Fly Tying: On the Steelhead Adams

Steelhead Adams

I was asked if this fly is one of my own creations.

Well, yes and no.

I was leafing through my copy of Flies: The Best One Thousand again for inspiration and got involved looking at wet flies. There I found a fly called a Downwing Adams which immediately caught my eye.

From Flies: The Best One Thousand, compiled by Randle Scott Stetzer.

The Downwing Adams wet fly was the inspiration for my fly. In fact, my fly is very nearly a copy, just resized for big fish. I love the whole Adams genre, and the Adams dry has more than once been the fly that finally got the attention of reluctant trout. So, I figured it might work with steelhead, too.

There are two differences between the wet fly and the steelhead fly as I tied it.

The first difference is that the wet fly is tied on wet fly hooks, obviously, sizes 10 to 16, and I tied the steelhead fly on a size 6 salmon hook. I will probably tie some size 4's, too, and maybe 2's. It's a good way to use up those oversized hackles that come with cheap necks.

The second difference is that the wet fly tail is rabbit fur guard hairs, and I tied the steelhead fly with black bear hair. I had just found it earlier in the afternoon at the bottom of my bag of various furs, so it was at hand. But I like it. I might make it a bit longer on the next ones I tie.

The Downwing Adams wet fly is unattributed in the book, which goes to great lengths to attribute the originators of flies when known. It makes sense to me that it isn't attributed since it's one of probably thousands of variations on the original Adams dry fly.

That fly, the original Adams dry, is attributed in the book, to Leonard Halladay.

He first tied the fly in Michigan in 1922 in an attempt to duplicate an insect his friend, Charles Adams, had seen on the water that morning, and described to him. When Adams returned from an afternoon on the Boardman River and pronounced the fly a "knockout" Halladay named it after him as the one who had first had success with it. (Click HERE for a good history of the fly.)

Halladay deserves the credit for that first fly, and for creating a color theme, even a genre of specific materials, that has proven so productive over the years, and which has inspired so many variations. He managed to find a magical combination that fish and fishermen love.

I did a quick check online to see if there were other flies called "Steelhead Adams," but I didn't find any on that first look. So I went ahead and stuck the name on my tie.

I can't believe that no one else has ever done this, and even called it a Steelhead Adams. But it really doesn't matter. It's just one more in a long line of variations, and, by rights, should go unattributed. And if someone has the copyright on "Steelhead Adams," well, good luck to you in your quest for immortality. I'll just call this fly Jim's Steelhead Adams.

By the way, I plan to tie up some of those Downwing Adams wets, too. Nice fly.

P.S. How about this one? Grizzly hackle fibers for the tail, Adams dubbing for the body with a black thread rib, grizzly hackle tips for the wings, and grizzly hackle for the hackle. No brown.

I call it the Grizzly Adams.

Still Waiting

From the town bridge this afternoon.

Looking north...

And looking south.

The forecast calls for high temperatures above freezing for the next 13 days. I'll be listening and watching for the possible breakup.

"This Winter Worse Than Most" by Madelyne Camrud

"Twilight" Anna Syperek

At night I awaken and listen

to the house creak, its boards sharpening

in the cold. Days we stay inside,

looking out the window,

and wonder at a world so deep

into temperature. A nuthatch

tweaks thistle seed from a feeder

suction-cupped to the pane.

In moments like this spent close to glass,

how understandable my life is,

inside the heavy ribs of my navy sweater.

I watch the small bird rise

and light on a high branch.

"This Winter Worse than Most" by Madelyne Camrud, from Oddly Beautiful. © New Rivers Press, 2013.

Waiting

Waiting for some open water...

Steelhead Adams

                                                 Hook: Gamakatsu T10-6H #6, weighted

                                                 Thread: Black

                                                 Tail: Black Bear

                                                 Body: Muskrat

                                                 Rib: Gold wire

                                                 Wings: Grizzly tips, downwing style

                                                 Hackle: Grizzly and Brown

"Report from the West" by Tom Hennen

"Tetons from Signal Mountain" by Ansel Adams, 1930's

Snow is falling west of here. The mountains have more than a

foot of it. I see the early morning sky dark as night. I won't lis-

ten to the weather report. I'll let the question of snow hang.

Answers only dull the senses. Even answers that are right often

make what they explain uninteresting. In nature the answers

are always changing. Rain to snow, for instance. Nature can

let the mysterious things alone—wet leaves plastered to tree

trunks, the intricate design of fish guts. The way we don't fall

off the earth at night when we look up at the North Star. The

way we know this may not always be so. The way our dizziness

makes us grab the long grass, hanging by our fingertips on the

edge of infinity.

"Report from the West" by Tom Hennen, from Darkness Sticks to Everything. © Copper Canyon Press, 2013.

Family Post: A Happy Thanksgiving

Hope you enjoyed your Thanksgiving as much as our grandson Sebastian enjoyed his. 

He helped cook...

...and got a head start on the meal...

...which he made the most of.

Then a brisk walk outside. Actually, Grandpa walked--and ran--and he rode.

Finally, a long relaxing evening watching every animated Disney movie we could put our hands on.

It was a good day, and I was really thankful.

November Ice

How did this happen? It seems way too soon to this fisherman.

Brrrrrr-rrr.

But, lest one be cowed by this annual phenomenon and tempted to stay home by the fire with a good book, Patagonia Fly Fish has provided a concise little pep talk, and an attractive role model.

 Our friend @outsidehilary on the Clearwater outside Seeley, MT
dealing with the ice that comes with being tough and fishing in the winter...
keep leading by example Hilary! Photo @steven_gnam

Hey, Hilary, I'm tough, too. See you out there.