Aspire to be great, but expect little

Double trouble on a tough day

By my calculations, it was June the last time I casted to a hungry carp on Lake X.  I pondered this while dreaming of what Saturday morning would bring.  With the fall weather finally upon us, thoughts of 2014 danced in my head.  My daydream began with me parking on the side of the gravel road.  The crisp September air prompted the addition of my windbreaker before rigging up.  A quick glance up at the lake left my jaw on the tailgate of my truck while I watched hundreds of common carp sipping on the surface.  What a morning at Lake X that was.

Flash forward to present time reality, and my alarm was already set.  On the road by 6:30, fishing by 7.  I picked up Burt before heading north.  With rain in the forecast for that morning, we wanted to make it with plenty of fishing time to spare.  Recent experiences, along with limited exposure to Lake X over the summer, had forced high expectations upon my rational thought processes.  Today was going to be a great day!  

We arrived to cool, calm, foggy conditions.  Seemingly perfect for fall fishing.  But where were the fish?  Usually, the drive along the rip rap offers up mouth watering anticipation.  Strike one for expectations.  No worries!  They're probably all back in the bay.  We come around the corner expecting to see fish crashing out of the water, and cruising the surface, only to find...nothing.  Steeeeerike two for expectations!  We gear up and begin moving toward the old road bed.

Walking this shoreline on a normal day would have an angler pushing out shallow carp with only a puff of Lake X mud as a sign that they were there.  Today, only painted turtles scooted out of our way.   Curiouser and curiouser.  As we come up to the road bed I stop suddenly.  The large golden back belonging to a six or seven pound carp stood out from the rocks about 15 feet ahead.  Before I had a chance to strip out some line, he had turned and leisurely swam off.  I walk to the road bed...Nothing.  Steeeerike Three!  Expectations had gone out the door at this point.  We were grasping at straws searching for answers.  As we started for the rip rap, the answer became apparent.  Big schools of what we call "floatillas" (large groups of carp on top of the water in the form of a raft) were scattered across the main part of the lake.  Reaching them was impossible at this point, so we continued on to the rip rap, hoping they would eventually move closer to shore.

One step forward, they swim two feet back

The rip rap offered little relief from our difficult start to the fishing day.  On the plus side, there were fish.  All along the shoreline.  The bad news...they were small fish keeping plenty of distance.  We took one step forward, they swam two feet back.  As soon as you would get within casting range, they would disperse.  After casting to a few groups, we decided to make our way back to the road bed.  

15.49 #s

It's looking pretty grim at this point.  If fish hadn't moved near the road bed, or into the back bay, we'd be reconsidering out fishing options.  Fortunately, we arrived at the road bed to find a few floatillas, and some individual fish cruising the surface.  While they were also playing hard to get, we were finally able to sight fish for specific carp. What a relief that is!  After only a few minutes of inching towards fish, I hook up.  "Fish on?" asked Burt.  "Fish on!" I replied.  I was still hesitant to begin celebrating a hook up considering our luck so far that morning.  Maybe I snagged it, my leader might break, I might lose him on a run, etc.   But when I saw the hook firmly embedded in the golden bone's top lip,  I exhaled with relief, "Ahhhh, top lip."  It was a nice first fish too.  15 pounds and some change.

After a few more fish, and a double, the wind began to make things a bit more difficult.  Six fish by 11:30 wasn't so bad given our situation.  We took it in stride, along with our lesson for the day.  High aspirations, low expectations.  You never know what you're going to get.

Fishing Buddy Code

Don't get slapped by that tail...

The walleye bite must have slowed significantly.  The curiosity of the walleye angler cruising by for the second time made that evident.  Of course, I was working to haul in a 15+ pound common carp from the depths of one northeast South Dakota glacial lake.  A heavyweight bout captivating enough for at least one spectator.  Fortunately, we were the only ones on the water on a beautiful Sunday morning.  With big fish all around me, the sun at my back, and blue skies on the horizon, this was shaping to be a perfect fishing adventure.  There was only one problem...this wasn't my spot to try.

Common after common fell by the guides of my new 8 wt Quest II.  Presentation options ranged from big fish feeding/lounging in the rip rap to cruising shadows on the shallow gravel beach.  In all instances, fish were ready and willing to destroy my fly.  As my hands stung from line burns, and my muscles ached from consecutive fights, I couldn't help but feel guilty about being there alone.  You see, it was supposed to be tandem trip, but circumstances (as they usually do) got in the way.  It all started with a new message on July 7th.

It was all set, an overnight trip to the northeast for a carp hunting adventure.  The day of departure was when things began to unravel.  Unforeseen circumstances and bad luck led to us postponing our trip.  There was still a possibility for me, however, because I had planned a family trip to the same area for the weekend.  The plan was to spend two days chasing carp in tag-team mode before meeting up with my family to spend the weekend in Watertown.  I brought the fly rod just in case.  When the kids were running around at 11:00 p.m. on Saturday night, I new Sunday morning would be my opportunity to break away for a quick trip. I was out the door at 6:30 a.m., fishing by 7:30, and on my way back to the hotel at 9:30 with sore arms and a shit-eating grin a mile wide.

Was it wrong for me to "scout" this new spot?  It felt wrong going without the guy who told me about it.  Or maybe it was just the fact that I had nobody to share my excitement when stalking a 15 + pound fish with his nose in the rocks and tail in the air.   Spots like that are meant to be shared, and I was hogging it all.  There has got to be some line in the Fishing Buddy Code that condones this behavior, right?  I'll look into it.  Until then, I'll have to look at the bright side, we'll no longer be starting from square one when we do finally make the trip to this carp paradise.

Carp Fever

Are you serious right now?

Damn Carp!  Just when I think I've got them figured out, they go and mess with my emotions and my head.  For years, I've taken time to chase carp during the spring.  Their early season displays lead one to believe that their aggressiveness and assertiveness would be imposed upon a well presented fly.  This is the behavior that leads to...CARP FEVER.  Each year I get it earlier, and each year leaves me wishing I had focused my early season fishing efforts elsewhere.

This year I had the antidote.  The cure that would free me from this figurative mental prison that holds me from May until late October.   I had come to a consensus with myself that, yes, my mind and emotions would be strictly focused on big rainbows, pike, white bass, smallies, and walleye in 2015.  There are, however, other causes of carp fever...unfortunately for me, it's contagious!



My friends have had carp fever for a few weeks now.  Scouting trips, fishing attempts, and even a few landed fish photos have been sent my way.  All acting as consistent reminders that carp season is near.  Just like the spring air, I felt my temperature rising.  Don't let the fever take hold!  Like a child fighting the urge to sleep, I fought this fever.  A 70 degree Sunday afternoon was when the fever finally took hold.  At 5:30, I took my fishing partner in search of active fish.  We arrived at a favorite spot nearby, one with very active carp all season.  Nothing big, but I knew there would be fish there.  Sure enough, a few had already gone into their spring ritual.  Tail dancing through the shallows like dolphins at play.

It's strange pulling a set of waders on before pursuing carp.  Wet wading in the warm sun has become one of my favorite reasons to chase them.  This cold water gear almost doesn't allow for the carp fishing mentality.  But it's not enough to fight the fever.

Tiny baitfish scattered from under the bridge.  A perfect place to begin in terms of presentation.  I begin casting my micro-clauser deep.  A few casts in, I've got the perfect rhythm of a slow steady retrieve that has become synonymous with much of my early season fishing, especially for carp.  Sloooowwww strip...pause.  Sloooowwww strip...pause.  Sloooowwww str...LINE STOPS.  I strip set into a nice fish.  Two head shakes and it's gone.   This location offers great spring fishing for many species.  Could have been a channel cat, could have been a whitey, could have been a walleye, hopeful it was a carp.  I didn't have it on long enough to feel comfortable venturing a guess.  I start the process again.  Three casts later, the line stops again.  I strip set into another nice fish.  This time, it's not going anywhere.  It crashes to the surface revealing a brilliant copper body and dark olive back.  It then heads for deeper water.  "Did I snag it," I wondered as I motioned him back toward shore.  The ease at which I controlled the fish suggested otherwise.  It took the bait.   Top lip...

There are days when carp fishing can befuddle even the most adept fishing enthusiast.  One day you'll catch 20, the next, you MIGHT land one.  I had only been fishing for about 15 minutes, and I already had two on the line.  What a great afternoon.

Over the next hour I would land another two fish and lose two more.  Not a bad outing for a quick carp adventure.  I checked my temperature when I arrived back home.  The digital thermometer read, "Carp Fever".  I didn't know it had that setting.  Looks like I'll be calling in sick to work tomorrow.  Damn carp!  Just when I think I've got them figured out...

TOP LIP Productions

I've been daydreaming of catching carp lately.  It was almost 60 degrees yesterday and I almost drove out to Lake X to see if I could hammer one in December.  Fortunately, I stuck around the house and played with the girls.  I have a lot of fishing footage from this year, so it's finally time that I sit down and showcase some of it.  Threw this together last night.  Enjoy.



Top Lip from Buddy Seiner on Vimeo.

Tactics for fall carp

Fall Cyprinus Carpio

When fall rolls around, I've typically stored the carp flies for the year in preparation for big fall/spring rainbows, smallies, and cackling dakota roosters.  Fall weather can play some pretty cruel tricks on us at times, but it can also bode well for a carp fisherman hoping to get in a few finned fu-man-chus before winter rolls around.  This can also be a frustrating time for carp fishermen.  I recall a few specific occasions as a novice carp angler.

The beautiful fall weather had arrived, but "hot" days (upper 70's, low 80's) were still sporadically placed through late September.  I would stand slapping the water for hours while carp crashed the surface all around me.  The frustration streamed through my veins like whitewater, but I persisted.  Eventually, compatible flies and tactics would come together like a Chuck Woolery inspired game show.  What seems to always hold true, in my experience carp fishing, is that there are rarely "sure thing" tactics for South Dakota bones.  A fly that one fish eats may not work on the next dozen or so that it is presented to.  Of course, fishing conditions and presentation are also factors in this equation, but the dynamic exists and differs from any other fish in the water.  So when you can find a fly pattern, presentation tactic and fishing condition pattern that works more often than not for carp, you've gotta share it with the fishing world!

Carp fishing is usually done using weighted flies dragging them along the bottom.  A viable technique all throughout the year, until fall.  Use that strategy and you might have some difficult days on the water.  Fish are more aggressive this time of year, gorging themselves before the weather changes.  You'll see a number of jumping fish along with fish that join together like a big fishy raft.  Both the rafts and the jumping carp offer great conditions for a fisherman.  Here are two tactics to try on your next fall carp outing.

For Flotillas:  These schools of fish might as well have a cooler filled with carp brews while they lazily drift and dine.  These fish don't spook easily and devour anything that gets in their paths.  For this, a light-weight nymph like the Burt Special or Sparkle Squirrel nymph get's it done every time.  Cast a few feet ahead of the floating fish raft and wait for the line to go tight.  The take will feel more like a snag than a fish.  Give them a second to make sure they've really eaten it (and it's not just stuck on a dorsal/tail fin) before strip setting.   Hooking a fish usually means spooking the raft, but that's ok.  Onto the next flotilla.  This tactic also works very well for sipping fish, although you'll find them harder to present to.  Their movements are random and they spook fairly easily.  More stealth is required.  Just pretend you're a secret agent or something.


Crashing Carp:  I don't really understand anything about what these fish are doing this time of year.  Summer and Fall crashers,  are aggressive,  agitated, and ready to chase a fly.  When they really start crashing (especially on windy days) a short and quick, erratic retrieve has worked best for me.  The takes are fierce and sudden.  I like to use larger beadhead softhackles in black or orange.  The buggier, the better.

Don't put away your favorite carp rod too quickly in the fall.  The fish are still ready and willing if you are.    

Before it was Cool to Like Carp

Top Lip...Just how I like it.

I like to think that my brother, our friends and I started the carp fishing trend before it became mainstream and "cool".  We grew up in Rapid City.  There was a pond by the Rapid City speedway that we so lovingly referred to as "the pond down by the racetrack".  Some of my fondest fishing memories come from a time where we were armed with nothing but spinning tackle, a can of freshly dug worms from the garden or canned corn, an egg sinker, a gold aberdeen hook, and youthful anticipation.  Back then, it wasn't about catch rates, size or bragging rights, it was just a grudge match between us and the most powerful fish to swim in fresh water.

While we were only in pursuit of the common carp, to us it felt like a hunt for a mythical creature with extraordinary powers.  They broke lines, eluded the net, dragged rods and reels to a watery grave, and filled our dreams with excitement and wonder.  We had names for many of those fish that got away, hoping that someday we'd feel their fight at the end of our line again.  Fishing was more simple back then, and seemed a lot easier.

Fishing for carp never got boring or went out of style.  Today it's similar only on a national scale.  Magazines, tournaments, television shows, websites and blogs all devoted to the "slimy" and "ugly" nuisance species.  I'm quite confident that I won't be fighting off fishing traffic for this terrific fish in my neck of the woods anytime soon.  Until that day comes, I'll enjoy roaming my home waters with pup in toe, reminiscing on a time before fishing for carp was cool.

Walker's Cay Chronicles

Here is a great resource for anyone interested in watching some old episodes of Walker's Cay Chronicles.  Great storytelling, genuine enthusiasm for the sport and for nature, and some awesome fish.  No Rock 'n' Roll, heavy metal hero shots required!  Enjoy...

http://hellsbayboatworks.com/media-pages/media-walkers-cay-chronicles-1

Slimy and Ugly

Does this look ugly and slimy to you?  

The other day I told a kid I enjoyed fishing for Carp the most.  When I asked if he liked carp he replied, "Not really..."  "Why not?" I asked.  "I don't know... they're ugly and slimy," he replied.

I would argue that anyone that has had the opportunity to admire a carp up close, or pursue them with a fly rod, would refrain from using descriptive terms like "ugly" and/or "slimy".  I understand that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and is completely subjective.  I don't expect everyone to share in my fascination of this species, or even enjoy fishing for them as much as I do.  I only ask that you refrain from judging a fish before you've fished for it and/or touched it.  Put a northern and a carp in a slimy grudge match and the northern will come out slimier every time.

I believe the common carp has a bad rep for two reasons:

1 - Their lifestyle (depending on the fishery) is a bit less lavish than people would like to see.  Thought, by many, to eat trash and live in "dirty" water, commons make their living scavenging for any aquatic worms, insects or crustaceans that await.  They are always seen while fishing for other species, and every-so-often, caught by accident when one grabs a nearby crawler or hapless minnow.  When the fight is on, there are nothing but positive remarks from the angler hauling in their trophy.  That is until they see that pretty face smiling back at them.  Then it's, "Oh (explative)!  It's only a (explative) carp!"

2 - Their status as an invasive species and relation to Asian/silver carp don't do them any favors.  Their reputation as a "trash fish" is becoming stronger by the day.  I don't know how much research there is to back it up, but Common's can cause damage to water ecosystems by harming native aquatic plant species with their feeding habits, muddying waterways, contributing to increased algal blooms and have the ability to procreate rapidly and resist extreme change in conditions.  They are well oiled evolutionary machines.   I need to continue digging for research connecting the common carp to the loss of fish and waterfowl in a particular body of water.  I don't know if such a thing exists.  Regardless, it causes folks to be concerned, and that concern morphs into disdain for an entire species.  They've been around since 1880 in the midwest, and our fisheries are pretty amazing.  Where's the evidence that suggests otherwise?

Secret Spots

Common Carp from Carp Lake X1-27/b (shhh!  It's a secret...)

Think of that one spot.  You know the one.  The spot where you can go at anytime to fish without finding a soul.  A spot where the well balanced fisherman can seemingly walk across water on the backs of prevalent fish.  A spot where, "fish on!" is heard more often than the occasional expletive.  These spots are not plentiful, but they do exist.  When you find one, you can count your lucky stars, and then catch as many fish as you can.  Enjoy the moment, for you never know when the magic might end.  Some of my favorite spots have become ordinary because of human interaction, harsh weather, or mother nature playing a different card.  Enjoy these amazing opportunities to be closer with nature, over and over again.  You never know when "the spot" might just revert to being "a spot" again.