Driftless Blue Lines

A conversation I had the evening prior with Stephen Wisner, owner of Eau Claire Anglers, reverberated in my head like a ringing bell.

“I just think people should have the experience,” he said.  “I found those spots, and it was really cool. And somebody else is going to find them, and they are going to have a really unique experience.”

I was driving a winding road through brown trout colored trees on a cloudy October afternoon.  The rain had been falling for three days and rivers were high. I was in a remote location and an unfamiliar state…a place I would have never found without a fishing suggestion from a friend.  But Stephen’s words were still in my head.  I agreed with him 100%. 

The excitement and anticipation that comes along with exploring new water is second to very few things. Finding and catching fish within, what only existed before as a blue line on a map, can bring a satisfaction that will move grown anglers to tears of joy.  Would that sense of anticipation and satisfaction be diminished with accompanying directions? Like an open book test, does the satisfaction of an A+ compare to one that has come with an impassioned and dedicated effort without said textbook?

I pulled into the driveway of a local organization and drove around to the back of the building.  The sun’s glow behind overcast skies was decreasing by the minute, along with it...my fishing time.  Waders, boots, slingpack, and my new St. Croix 4 wt came together in haste before long strides carried me toward the sound of rushing water.  I did a 180 degree turn after a quick fall/winter revelation. Dry hands = warm hands. I draped a towel over my slingpack of essentials.

The water was rushing in a rusty brown color.  White foam piled up in seams and eddies indicating the flows force.  Matted down foliage acted similar to chalk at a crime scene highlighting evidence of the waters presence just hours before.  With the clock ticking on this new fishing hole, I tied on my favorite winter streamer in hopes of triggering a few instinctive strikes.  “If they are going to eat, they’ll eat this,” I thought while sliding down the muddy slope to the water’s edge. For a moment, I just stood and enjoyed the atmosphere, checking boxes off the “great fishing holes” attribute checklist.  I could already tell this was a special place to many.

Three long strips off the kingfisher fly reel relinquished just enough line to do the trick.  A half-hearted upstream presentation quickly drifted towards the edge of a bankside seam. Short strips made the streamer dance about 12 inches under the surface, just barely visible from my casting area.  The first cast hung near the seam for only a few seconds before a solitary tug gave way to the thumping head shake of a 12 inch brown trout. This particular fish was a perfect template for the fall colors blossoming all around me.  Futility met two impassioned leaping attempts at dislodging the barbless fly, and the fish gently glided into the rubber mesh of my long-handle net. Catching a fish in questionable conditions was fulfilling and unanticipated. Catching a fish on the first cast...prompted an obligatory celebration with myself.  Fist pump!

Four fish found my streamer in seam one, two more fell for it in seam two.  With the clock ticking, It was time to move upstream. The walk through brush and trees made my heart and belly flutter.  Being in the wilderness can do this to people. This is the feeling you seek when on blue-line exploratory missions. I perched atop a large rock at the head of a pool and presented downstream.  A flash of red was all I had seen before my rod bent under the pressure of another fish. This time, another species. My barbless hook allowed for a quick release of a fish that was too beautiful to describe with words.  Like my favorite natural wonders, I could see a million brook trout and not grow tired of the view. Autumn brookies always inspire audible expressions of surprise and wonder. This fish, and the next, made me sit back and wonder why I was so lucky.  Then, it was something else Stephen had said the day before that helped me come to grips with the satisfaction I was beginning to feel deep down inside my fishing bones.

“Then, you have someone who grows to trust you enough who would say, ‘hey, I’m going to show you something’,” he said.  “That’s different than ‘go to this spot’. Someone takes you under their wing and shows you their stuff...that’s cool to me.”  

Location is everything in the fishing world.  Hero shots and grip-n-grins are taking over as insta-famous wannabes continue to sprout out of the woodwork.  Like creeping jenny in a tomato garden, these photos and posts can draw us in with their beauty, while slowly and painfully killing off a great fishing location.  Some bodies of water can only take so much pressure. Fish, can only take so much pressure before things begin to change. Especially when talking trout. The stakes change along with the volatility of the resource.  

I understand the feeling of accomplishment that comes along with landing a beautiful fish in a beautiful location.  I understand preserving that moment in time can bring stream-cred, partnerships, speaking gigs, and pro staff contracts any professional angler dreams about. It also brings attention.  Word will get out, and anglers will take notice. You want a fishing spot to change in a hurry? Post a hero shot all over social media.

Each seam held fish willing to attack the flashy fly.  The “just one more fish” mantra was spoken many times before artificial light was required to help me slip and stumble my way back to the truck.  The flutter in my belly was still present prompting a howl that echoed through the valley and over the hillside. For me, the excitement and anticipation that came along with exploring this special place was not diminished by the fact that I was given directions by a friend.  I would never have found it on my own, and felt humbled to be trusted with the valuable information.

Our quest for the unexpected and surprising, and any ensuing success, can elicit emotions that are almost too powerful to contain.  Social media hero shots have provided an outlet for many enthusiasts experiencing this good fortune. I was trusted enough to be guided to this special location, and to a special fishing experience.  Writing...is my way of expressing these emotions. Both outlets share similar purposes, but not always a similar impact. Taking care of our resources involves more than just conservation and preservation.  An accountable approach to its utilization and the ceremonial celebration should be considered first and foremost. Treat nature like you would a good friend who has entrusted you with a new fishing spot. The future of our resources depends on it.

The Sandhills

While fishing in the beautiful Black Hills this past weekend, I was reminded of a trip we had taken down to the Sandhills of Nebraska a few years back.  It was also brought to my attention that a video was never produced.  Well, I hope this one accurately portrays the beauty of the area and the fish we had an opportunity to view up close and personal.  It was a great trip!



Snake River from Buddy Seiner on Vimeo.

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...

Tying to Catch a Fish

The annual Bighorn River adventure holds a special place in the hearts of Tuesday Tyers members who have participated.  When I first joined the group, spectacular tales of fish catching, river tips and tricks, and planning talk for future trips filled our tying nights.  When I was invited to tag along, I was nervous.  "What if I don't catch any fish?" I thought.  It wasn't until I joined this group on their adventure that I realized that catching fish (while always a goal) was not the ultimate objective.  This trip means more than just fish.  It is an escape... from others and ourselves.  It is a chance to wade waste deep in water with thousands of fish who are happy to set up in the feeding lane behind your legs.  A chance to drift effortlessly down a river full of beauty and majesty.  A chance to meet friendly folks both enjoying the resource and using it to make a living.  All of this while trying to get close to some of the most beautiful fish one can imagine.

I'm bummed to not be going on this year's adventure, but excited for those who are planning to attend.  To help them get ready for the trip, and to provide a few laughs in the process, here is a video of last year's adventure.  Mostly just fish being released, but some good memories mixed in.  Enjoy!


 
Bighorn 2014 from Buddy Seiner on Vimeo.

Why I Fish...This might take a while.

A carp bolting back onto the flat.  It never gets old.  

I bet the most commonly asked question of fishing enthusiasts by friends and family who are rarely seen holding a rod and reel is, "So...Why do you fish anyway?"

I never really have a good "elevator" reply for why I fish.  Mainly because there are a variety of reasons that seem to change each time out.  I know I'm guilty of mentally asking the same question of others who enjoy a pasttime that's not my cup of tea.  It may be difficult for them to express just how much they enjoy a particular activity, and it may not.  It really doesn't matter.  If something makes us happy, and is not immoral, I'd say it doesn't require explanation.

I, on the other hand, would like more people to pursue fly fishing.  I believe that more fly fishing enthusiasts in the world mean more people working hard to protect our wildlife and fisheries.  For that reason, I need an elevator pitch.  I need a quick statement that let's people know why I fish in hopes that they will be intrigued enough to inquire further into the prospect of trying for themselves.  Maybe by the end of this I'll have something thought out.  Until then, here is a list of my top ten reasons I love to fly fish.

9 - The moment when you hook into a big fish:  I was standing in the cold Rapid Creek water approaching a deep hole.  New to fly fishing, this was trial under fire.  A seam holding two big fish and my constituents giving me the first shot at landing one while they watch from shore.  Finding a sturdy hold in the creek, I begin casting to the top of the hole.  Time and time again my fly drifted through with nothing to show for it.  It seemed like I stood casting to those trout for an eternity.  As a noob, I felt the seconds turn into minutes and began worrying about the guys on shore.  Are they checking their clocks?  Do they want to start casting?  But my comfort level was still well enough to keep on.  These were the biggest trout I had ever presented a fly to, and I wanted to know what it felt like to land one.  With each drift I would watch as the trout lazily swayed from left to right munching the entire time.  Until, one seemed to open it's mouth wider than it had before.  My indicator twitched only slightly when I set the hook.  "A snag," I thought, while I lifted the rod.  It felt like a cinderblock on the other end of my 5x tippet.  And then the head shakes began, and the fight was on.  My heart and mind started into race, almost against each other.  One trying to determine how to land this fish among the fast water below, water hazards and slippery rocks, the other just trying to give me enough blood to stay conscious.  The brown didn't fit in my net, but I got it to hand.  I was mocked the rest of the day for having a "barbie" net.  I'll never forget the hookset.  Like a cinderblock.

8 - Solitude:  Standing all alone on a stream when big snow flakes are falling;  casting to 7 lb rainbow trout when it is 10 degrees and the wind is howling; casting for carp on the flats of Lake X...the list goes on and on.  Having always held professional positions that require a vast amount of communication, fishing provides a getaway.  No problems, no deadlines, no worries.  The only listening that is required is to nature and the only talking I do is with my golden retriever.  It's an amazing feeling.

7 - Fishing in the rain:  The pitter-patter of raindrops on my hood creates music to my ears.  The droplets falling from the bill of my hat make me feel sheltered and warm in my fishing cacoon.  The smell makes me feel like a kid.  And the fish...boy do they bite in the rain.  I don't know if I've ever had a bad day fishing in the rain.  And not many other people like to do it, so someone has to catch fish on rainy days!

6 - Anticipation, daydreaming, and possibility:  I don't only tie flies in the winter like many folks.  Often on weekends and lazy weekday evenings, you'll find me at the tying bench, or table, or nightstand, or whatever will hold my vise, dreaming up new patterns and the fish that will eat them.  On the water, like most people with fish on the brain, I always believe that next cast is going to produce a fish.  One last cast usually turns into 10 or 20.  One of the great things about fishing is that you never really know what will fall for your presentation until it happens.  You never know which spot is going to hold that fish you've dreamed up while tying.  I still get giddy and excited before a fishing trip, even the short ones around home.  I guess I'll probably still enjoy it until that feeling goes away, maybe even after.

Vote for this photo on TU's facebook page Nov 3-11
I could win a fly rod!!

5 - Getting up close and personal with a wild animal:  I wish I had taken up flyfishing as a young child.  I recall with great delight my childhood visits to the grandparents' house in Spearfish.  Standing on the bridge near the fish hatchery scanning the creek below for feeding trout was a favorite pastime.  I could always spot  them in the turbid water and only wanted to get a closer look.  They are all so unique and beautiful, like a fingerprint.   Each warrants special attention when they are brought to hand.  Great care is taken to release them unharmed (outside of the small hook hole in their mouth) and as much time as they'll allow is invested in watching as they escape back to the honeyhole.  You can't get any closer to enjoying nature and not taking a life.

4 - Skillz pay the billz:  As often as I try to find solitude while fishing, I am happy to share a fishing hole or location when fellow fishing enthusiast are present.  More often than not, I will also end up sharing my strategy for catching fish with them.  I am usually very fortunate on the water, which has a lot to do with the lucky flies that I tie, and people take notice.  "what are you using?" they'll ask after I release a few fish.  I'll take a second to explain the fly and give them a look at the pattern I'm using before they're almost guaranteed to reply, "I've got a fly rod at home somewhere, I should get that thing out".  Plain and simple, I can catch fish with a fly rod when others won't.  I've landed fish after fish in locations surrounded by bait and artificial lures alike without seeing another fish brought to hand.  I have confidence in this tactic and take a lot of luck out of the equation.  With the fly, I'm presenting to all of the fish's senses vs. a select few.  They can't help but eat it.  

3 - It's very challenging:  Now that I've explained how well fly fishing works, I'll get to the caveat.  Fly fishing gets easier with education.  I've been humbled many a day fishing for various species in various locations.  Even today I find myself in situations, chasing fish that I'm not prepared to pursue.  Fly fishing requires constant improvement and improvisation to stay one step ahead of your quarry.  This applies at the fly tying desk as much as it does on the water.  Preparation and education are key to being a "good" fly fisher.  I love getting smarter every day.

2 - Evolution:  Our family fishing tournaments remain as some of my most cherished and vivid

memories from childhood.  It was here where I began to evolve and adapt as a fisherman.  It all started with salmon eggs.  What a great way to catch trout as a kid.  I wittnessed the largest rainbow I'd ever seen caught when I was around 11 or 12.  Hanging out of its mouth was a red and white daredevil.  I never used live bait after that.  Soon I discovered gift shop flys and their propensity to attract rainbows behind a clear bobber.  I would draw crowds because I was catching so many fish.  Everyone wanted to know how I was doing it, and I had no idea why it worked.  I sure put the acting hat on though.  Could have given me one of those meaningless awards they give to celebrities for pretending to be other people.  My uncle gave me my first fly rod and introduced me to fly fishing cinema.  Trout Bum diaries was the first video I watched.  I was hooked forever.  I enjoy reminiscing about my progression through the phases of fishing.  I only wish that I had been introduced to fly fishing at a younger age.

1 - Spending time with good friends and family:    While solitude is more my game nowadays, I still find great value in fishing with those that I enjoy spending time with.  My dad and brother always entertain me, while the tuesday tyers continue to surprise me with their talents.   My girls have continued to show interest and have caught some fish all on their own.  I hope they both stick with it.  My favorite fishing partner, however, is Lucy.  She's the best dog around and even loves fishing more than me.  She told me so.



If you don't fly fish now, I hope you will consider trying it.  If my reasons don't persuade you, maybe you can think of a few others that would make it sound more appealing.  If you love to fish, I'd like to hear why.  See if we have some common ground.  Now go fishing.  You deserve it!

Taking photos with video - save time, save fish

I only need one (1) second to get a photo of a fish out of water.  

Are you a professional photographer?  Are you making money by taking photos of your "trophies" that are smaller than most of the fish being caught round the world?  I'm guessing that most people are not, and you have no reason to leave a fish gasping for air on a bank while you try to set up your point and shoot camera for a shot you're not prepared for.  I've ranted about it before...10 seconds is too long for a fish to be out of water.  Anything more will be compromising a life for a silly photo that will nary be seen after its upload.

Most "average Joe" fisherman like myself, just want some cool shots for memories or videos that might be put together for friends and family.  Trying to take a snapshot of yourself after catching a fish can be a difficult task.  I know some great fishermen who have a developed systems that allows them to get great photos (most of the time) while keeping the fish healthy for release.  I'm not one of those guys, which is why I use video to take all of my fish photos.

Not professional, but still a nice shot of a beautiful browny

Hear me out.  All of my photos are taken from Go Pro Hero2 videos.  Video quality and cost are no longer correlated to a point where you must pay too much for a camera that takes great video.  A waterproof camera will not only take high def video and a great snapshot from the editing table, but it will give you the piece of mind knowing you can set it on the bank for a quick fish video without worrying about it falling in or getting wet.  With the fish in the net you are able to start the video (remotely with the Hero 3) leave the fish in the water until you are ready to set up for "the shot", lift the fish and release the fish.  It's that simple.  Stop the video and begin the cycle again.

Again, I get that you aren't going to take professional photos with this method.  I understand that there may be the occasional water spot on the lens that will show up on your image.  What's so bad about that?  I say it adds a bit of authenticity to an always perfect, photoshopped, filtered world of photos.  Yes, I often wish I had the resources and time to reach a level of photography that others would find desirable.  I have a great deal of admiration for what wildlife photographers can do with a camera and enjoy their work often.  Maybe someday I'll join their ranks.  Until that time, I'm proud to say I can release a fish in under 10 seconds and still have a great photo to show for it.  I'm also content preserving the memories of great adventures and fish encounters one video at a time.

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.