Stories Archive

       STORY Archive:

03/01/2003

The Main Objectives
"To a receptive person, what you get out of fishing is infinitely more than fish.
         For that reason, I believe that neither size nor number should matter much;
fishing should be the exercise of your skill,
and its reward the spots it brings you to.
 If these are not your main objectives, then you don't know fishing."
Negley Farson, Going Fishing (1942)

02/01/2003

The Beginner
The place was the Men's Club Lake in Phillips Texas, I was 5 years old and
we had my two cousins along.
Now you had to know my Dad, he grew up hunting, not fishing, he would
say, hunting, you can see what you're getting.

Well he rigs up this cain pole that must have been 20 foot long, with a
sinker that had to weigh 2oz. with a cork about the size of a golf ball. Pop
told me to watch the cork and jirk when it went under...Well the wind was
blowing pretty good (as it does out here ) and with that heavy sinker and
the wave action , the cork kept going under, So I would Jirk. Now with the
cain pole, the whole rig goes flying in the air. I would see that there was
no fish on it, so I would go flinging the rig back to the water, kinda like
a bull whip action. Pop kept saying "wait till the cork goes under" course
every time I would do my fling thing the worm would go flying and he would
have to rebait. Now keep in mind that Pop is also having to take care of my
cousins and Pop never was a patient man...

About 2 hours of me jerking and flinging, that cain pole ,I could tell Pop
was about to have enough..,,But the cork went under ONE MORE TIME ,,I gave
it a mighty JIRK, 2oz sinker and all, as I watched the rig fly over my head
with NO fish.. I started to whipp it back to the water, I feel a big tug on
it, Then I hear a very loud Four letter word followed by another one, as I
turned to see what all the cousin is about, I had HOOKED my Dad just above
the left eye, and the sinker had broke off half his front tooth..

We all loaded up in a 59? studabaker with Dad hooked and a 20 foot cain pole
hanging out the window,, Pop and I did go fishing a few times together after
that, but he never got behind me again...true story,,.......Worm'n

01/10/2003

A Bond With Bessie (And the Places She Lived) by Sacdaddy

12/25/2002

Santa is a Fisherman

He has to be. I doubt there's fast food at the North Pole and I can't see
Santa shooting Polar Bear (or would that be penguins?) You might think he's
a vegetarian and grows tomatoes in his northern ice kingdom but his electric
bill would be enormous and the DEA would target him as a potential
cultivator. Besides, he couldn't maintain his enormous girth on just greens.
Therefore, Santa must be a fisherman.

11/27/2002

Trico Hatch

          While I was working a trico hatch. You know, #26 trico on the water 
          with one hundred thousand other trico's. A big brown was rising on 
          the far side, slurp, slurp, slurp, just this side of a bolder. 
          Conflicting currents across the water. Getting a perfect drift 
          was near impossible. But after three hours, my fly finally laid
          down gently on top of another trico, headed directly towards
          the rising brown. Everything was looking good. The brown came up
          and took them both. I was there, and set the hook. The brown was big,
          it took off down stream, and my reel screamed. (What a wonderful sound)
          I was chasing after, and noticed I was into my backing. 
          Then SNAP, gone, no longer there, vanished, limp, in shock. 
          It all happened in a matter of seconds, but the memory will last forever.
          Should I move to 5X to give me a better chance with the hogs. 
          No, I think not. 

10/07/2002

Final Words

            An old man in his final breaths called in his family and said
         "I must apologize to you all. I suppose I haven't been the perfect father
          and husband. I shamefully admit that I spent as much of my life
           as I could in the woods and on the streams. 
          I was rarely at home during the fishing seasons and I'll admit 
          that I spent too much time at the fly shop, and too much money 
          on rods and lines and reels."  
          He paused here to rest for a minute, then continued.
           "I've been a terrible father and I hope you all forgive me." 
           Then he paused again and looked around. 
       Then he closed his eyes and smiled, and said in a half whisper to himself,
            "and on the other hand.....I have caught a helluva lot of trout."

     - Anonymous

09/15/2002

The Walnut 

    "Just last Saturday I was motoring my boat into a small cave that looked like a
       most inviting spot.  As I pulled in I noticed a rock protruding through the surface
  of the water.  On the rock was a walnut.  Nearby, on the shore, a squirrel had
     climbed out onto a branch of a large maple tree attempting to gain access to the rock and the walnut.

  As the squirrel moved further out over the water, the branch began to bend,
   looking like it would afford the squirrel a perfect avenue to the rock.  Surely
    enough, with a small hop the squirrel landed squarely on the small rock. 
Grasping his prize, he turned to make the return trip on the branch.

Having been relieved of the squirrel's weight, the branch rebounded back to its
 original position several feet from the rock. The branch was easily out of the
   squirrel's reach. After sizing up the situation a bit, the squirrel backed up a few
     steps and made an attempt to jump up to the branch. Stretching as for as
     possible, it was all the squirrel could do to barely contact the branch with one of his front feet.  Needless to say, the squirrel was not able to hold onto the 
branch and fell into the water.

   Just as the squirrel hit the water, the place erupted like a depth charge had gone
    off. In all the excitement and through all the water and spray, I could make out a
 combination of fur and fish.  Then, with a flick of the tail, both were gone.

     I immediately poured through my flies looking for something big enough to imitate
 that squirrel.  Maybe this big brown streamer would work.  Or how about that
 mouse imitation?  I ended up throwing first the mouse then the big streamer all
   around that rock, under the tree branches and most every other place I could
 think of. I must have worked that spot for over an hour 
with not one stinking bite.

    Realizing that I was skunked once again, I packed up my gear and began to
     slowly head the boat back to the dock.  Hearing a splash behind me just as I was
      getting under way, I turned once again to look in the direction of the rock. And I'll be damned if I didn't see that fish putting the walnut back onto the rock."

       Joseph Sidera

08/05/2002

     There was a priest that loved to stream fish. One year there was a problem,  
     every time he had a chance to go fishing the weather was bad or it was on
     Sunday, when he had to work.  All year he was unable to go. 
     Finally it was the last week before the streams closed.  
     The weather was bad all week until Sunday, when the weather was great.
     The priest could not resist, he called a fellow priest claiming to be very sick
     and asked if he could take over his sermon.
      The fly fishing priest drove over 200 miles, not wishing to see anyone he knew.
      An angel seeing the priest playing hooky went to God and said "Your not going
      to let him get away with this are you?". God agreed he should do something .
      The first cast the priest made was perfect.  The fly floated past a log and a huge
      mouth gulped the fly down. For 45 minutes the priest ran up and down the
      stream fighting the mighty fish.  At the end he held a 50" world record rainbow
      trout. Confused, the angel asked God, "What are you doing?".
      God replied "Think about it, who's he going to tell?"

07/28/2002

           Every Sunday afternoon everyone in the neighborhood would meet
        at the nearby cross roads and country store to compare their weekend
        catches. Everyone had normal size fish except this one old farmer who
        had always brought in huge fish. The game warden heard about this and
        showed up one Sunday afternoon. After inspecting the old farmers fish,
        he turned to the farmer and said "If you don't show me your fishing 
        spot , I'm going to have to close you down." The farmer replied by
        telling him to come out to the farm in the morning and he would 
        take him fishing.
        The next morning the game warden shows up with his pole and the
        farmer tells him to climb onto the tractor. They head out into this big
        field until they come to a little pond. The warden is scratching his head
        because all he sees is a rotten old skiff, when he expected a large lake
       and something closer to a yacht. The farmer said to get in and they start
       rowing out to the middle. About this time the warden notices that there
       are no fishing poles.
       As he is about to say something, the farmer reaches into a box and pulls
       out a stick of dynamite, lights it and throws it into the pond. After the
       water and smoke settle, he paddles around picking up the fish. The
       warden's jaw is on the deck. He can't talk for a minute. When he finds
       his voice, he starts in on the farmer about how he can't believe what just
       happened and starts screaming to the farmer about all the regulations he
       has broken. While this is taking place the farmer calmly reaches into the
       box grabs another stick of dynamite, lights it, hands it to the warden and
      asks him if he is going to fish or talk.

07/15/2002

OK, it's 1/2 hour before dark. 
              You are 2 miles from your car without a flashlight.
              The woods are heavy with no trail. 
               The trout just started to rise.
               What should you do?

06/20/2002

Colorado wildfires out of control!

    The state of Colorado has been declared a disaster area.  

     Colorado needs rain. NOW. A lot of it. Very soon. Please Lord.

     Colorado currently has 6 major wildfires burning. 

     Some fire fighters are saying there might be an arsonist
     setting additional fires. 

     The worst fire in Colorado history is still burning! 
     Hayman Wildfire Facts:
                     burned 137,000 acres 
                     2,600 fire fighters 
                     20 helicopters 
                     133 Homes lost, 1 Business, 466 Outbuildings
                     69% contained 
                     tax payer cost is at 23 million 
                     caused by state forestry employee, 
                     illegal campfire, arrest made, U.S. Attorney is handling.     

     The fires are way to close and numerous. 
     The fire men and woman have just started the summer and they
     are already short on supplies, resources and strength!

     Normal runoff is nonexistent and current water flows are
     dangerously low. Some streams are expecting major, or total fish kill.
     As flows continue to drop and the water continues to heat up, the
     environment where an organism or ecological community normally
     lives, are dying.
     There is nothing so sad as a stream turning into muck. A stream that just
     last year was thriving and making dreams come true.
     Whoa, it makes a grown man cry.

     And the ranchers, can't give their live stock away. Pastures and
     government grazing land offer nothing to eat. While hay prices have
     moved out of sight.

     I see no silver lining here, only muck, scorched land, and homes burnt to
     the ground.
    
      Rain, sweet rain. Where are you?

     KLM 

  06/13/2002

      Texan's. What are you going to do?

      While I was having fun working a nice piece of water outside of Creede, Colorado, a gentleman from Texas happened by. He noticed the superbly tied BWO and asks "Hey, are them  fish biting on that FLY BAIT?". I simply stated "no sir, I don't believe there are any fish in this part of the stream".    

05/10/2002

      Dry Flies Only

      Ok, I admit it, I used a nymph. The wind was blowing hard all day and the rainbows were acting very weird. You know, like in the Bambi movie, the owl explained it, they were twiterpated (no I don't know the correct spelling). They were hanging out in the shallow water in groups, Their colors were mixed, some bright, some dull and some scaling. They were ramming into each other, flipping around, acting very fishy. I had a DRY FLY on, as I always do. But they would have nothing to do with my beautiful flies, floating perfectly, presentation and approach, text book. Soooooo, after hours of attempting to get their attention. I put on an RS2. And ONE rainbow, half hearted, took a look. Just goes to show you, when spawning is on, normal behavior goes out the window. I sat down to watch and eat my baloney sandwich. Skunked! Welcome to spring.  

       Keith Myers

04/14/2002

      I found a Bamboo Rod Today:

      Hi:

      It's one of those good days, a day at a household sale, or estate sale that you could have passed up - but didn't.  I walked in the door of this house in Fairport, NY that had belonged to a fisherman.  There on the shelf, for sale was a Cortland 333 fly line - Floating 35 yrds, BUG TAPER  GREEN WF9F still in the box, never been used.  What a discovery - $6.00.  Grab that!  And right next to it was this Bamboo Fly Rod "Eastern Coast"  nice windings, 8 ft. both tips, and a cloth bag.  $50.00 but 25% off because it was the second day of the sale.   I'm going fishing for trout on the Oatka tomorrow and that Bamboo rod is going with me.  See you on the creek.

      Jim

04/02/2002

      Glass Rods: I am now reluctantly satisfied that glass fly rods are mechanically the equal of and perhaps often perform better than the best bamboo rods. Not only that, they are more reasonable in price; require little or no care; and apparently last forever. I'll concede all that, but never will I let another glass fly rod darken my door. Put it down, if you will, to burst of girlish sentiment of the heart or middle-aged sediment on the kidneys-I'll take split bamboo. To my mind there is no fairy wand in creation more graceful and beautiful than a good bamboo fly rod. They look so good; they feel so good. Like fingerprints, no two bamboo rods are alike; each is an individual possessed of its own unique character and one that a fisherman can really get to know.

      But these gleaming impersonal glass rods that some chemist has conceived in a laboratory out of skimmed milk and old box tops, these synthetic concoctions that are tuned out on an assembly line as much alike as two peas in a pod, simply aren't for me. I'd sooner cast over glass fish than use one. I love my bamboo fly rods and I choose to think they have a sneaking yen for me. But I'm afraid I can never quite fall in love with a chemist's incestuous brain child. In short 'tis a pox I wish on all glass rods. (Adv: I'll sell you a dandy for five bucks.)

    Trout Madness by Robert Traver

03/11/2002

     "The cast itself was indecently easy and, finally releasing it, the little Adams sped out on its quest, hung poised in mid-air for an instant, and then settled sleepily upon the water like a thistle, uncurling before the leader like the languid outward folding of a ballerina's arm. The fly circled a moment, uncertainly, then was caught by the current. Down, down it rode, closer, closer, then-clap!-the fish rose and kissed it, I flicked my wrist and he was on, and then away he went roaring off downstream, past feeder creek and happy fisherman, the latter hot after him."

Trout Madness by Robert Traver

02/18/2002

(Written by a TC2000 user after a day of stock trading.)

Dear Don,

      I want to comment on the letter from the fellow looking for the Holy Grail. He reminds me of so many folks I know who want to find the 'perfect' trading method and in lieu of that will never learn to invest. They are overwhelmed and intimidated by the market and it becomes incomprehensible to them. My suggestion for all of these folks is to forget the market, charts, indicators and everything else and GO FISHING. If they learn to fish they will learn to invest. No one goes fishing thinking they will catch fish every time, if this were the case no one would go.

      When you fish you have to determine what it is you are trying to catch and then the technique you need to catch them. Are you going after a lot of little fish or one big one? Is it the right time of year? What flies are you using? Are the climate and conditions suitable for what you want to catch? No two fishermen use the same techniques; we all do what works for us, what fits our personalities. I like the simple DRY FLY while others like to get real technical with fancy lures and scented oils.

      It doesn't matter what you use so long as it works for you. You learn to be patient and observant. You don't throw all of your bait in the water at once or put out more lines than you can handle. You learn the habits of the fish, where they will be and when to be there at the right time and ready to act with the right tools. You will start catching them and when you don't, you study what you are doing wrong. You'll catch some big ones and miss others. You learn to respect the ones that got away and know there will be another one out there on another day. Just the fact that one got away means that you knew where to find it. Most of all you have to enjoy the process not just the result.

      There's no voodoo to fishing, just as there's no voodoo to the market, there are no guarantees, but there are tried and true tools to help you. Whether it's DRY FLIES or NYMPHS, technicals or lures, they all help you on your quest to catch your fish. I am a common man from a blue-collar background and with little technical knowledge, but I do very well fishing for the right stocks.

      Stochastics to me are something you might cure with penicillin and MACD sounds like a food additive. Your comments on the technicals often make my head spin and I understand less than half of TC2000's workings, but I know what works for me. Let others use fancy lures while I use DRY FLIES, and we will both enjoy the fish we catch. Anyone can do it; it just takes a little time and a lot of patience. Most of all, it is very rewarding.

        Sincerely, Joe

01/14/2002

TESTAMENT OF A FISHERMAN        by  Robert Traver

      I fish because I love to; because I love the environs where trout   
      are found, which are invariably beautiful, and hate the environs
      where crowds of people are found, which are invariably ugly;
      because of all the television commercials, cocktail parties, and
      assorted social posturing I thus escape; because, in a world where
      most men seem to spend their lives doing things they hate, my
      fishing is at once an endless source of delight and an act of small
      rebellion; because trout do not lie or cheat and cannot be bought
      or bribed or impressed by power, but respond only to quietude and
      humility and endless patience; because I suspect that men are
      going along this way for the last time, and I for one don't want to
      waste the trip; because mercifully there are no telephones on
      trout waters; because only in the woods can I find solitude without
      loneliness; because bourbon out of an old tin cup always tastes
      better out there; because maybe one day I will catch a mermaid;
      and, finally, not because I regard fishing as being so terribly
      important but because I suspect that so many of the concerns of
      men are equally unimportant-and not nearly so much fun.

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