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.

Road Hunting for Arctic Grayling

Deciphering the code of the Arctic Grayling

We had already had an amazing time in Alaska.  A whirlwind adventure that took us through Grizzly country, crystal clear Arctic Grayling creeks, fast and furious Silver Salmon runs and a deep see arm workout for the ages.  So why was I hesitant to bring up my desire to fish one more day, our last in Alaska?

We were on our way to relax in the Chena Hot Springs, a beautiful resort at the end of Chena Hot Springs road, east of Fairbanks.  At five or six locations along the 45 minute drive, the North Fork of the Chena River crossed under the highway.  Each time we went over another bridge, I had a perfect view of excellent grayling water.  Our flight wasn't scheduled until the evening of the next day, so a morning fishing adventure wouldn't really be an unusual suggestion if it weren't for us being run ragged from the two weeks prior.  So when I threw it out there to Uncle Al that I would like to try fishing in the morning, I wasn't too surprised when he started scheming right along with me.  Our plan:  to drive up to Chena again in the morning, and road hunt our way back to North Pole.

Scouting water takes some time.  When time isn't a luxury you have, scouting becomes a lot more work.  While we did drive down to a few spots, we ultimately determined that the best bang for our time buck would come by stopping at each bridge and checking for fish.  The first spot looked promising.  A long stretch of slower water on the back side of a riffle.  A seam that stretched for about 30 yards and fish where holding in all feeding lanes and along the shoreline.  A red copper john and hot spot hares ear combo did the trick for me.  Getting down to the fish was critical, and when you did, you found plenty willing to bite.  Fish, after fish, after fish.  

Everything I had read about grayling fishing had been accurate up to this point.  Pick a fly (dark in color) and show it to them.  They'll eat it more often than not.  So when we pulled up on the Chena and found these fish holding deep, it was fun to try some deep nymphing to more particular fish.  After catching a lot of grayling, we hopped back in the truck to hunt for the next spot.  Each stop after presented new challenges and beautiful fish.  A great end to an amazing adventure.  Arctic grayling and their home waters are prevalent in Alaska.  If you have a chance to get there, do some road hunting.  You won't regret it!

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.

Super Secret...and Full of Bass

Extra large please...

I fished until the sun began to set on the horizon.  And then I fished some more.  I lost track of how many times I told Lucy, "last fish and we're going home girl."  So did she.  An impromptu trip to a long-neglected favorite fishing hole had turned into an evening of crashing, thrashing excitement, and quite the workout for my right arm.

A dreary and rainy Thursday had me second-guessing my perceived need for adventure.  After a quick dinner I found myself contemplating my fishing options and whether going out after that rain would even be worth it.  Lucy stared in disbelief.  She could actually tell that I was considering an alternative use of a rare free evening.  Eventually, her stare, and my conscious, got the best of me.  We ran out the door.

I entered the pasture around 7:00 p.m.  The rain-soaked tire tracks offered a makeshift slip-n-slide over the ruts and prairie dog holes.  With my white truck sufficiently covered in prairie mud, I pulled up to the gate.  The quiet calm of the grasslands was interrupted only briefly by the barking of nearby prairie dogs.  Their skittish behavior suggested target practice occurred earlier that day.  Lucky for them that was not my intention.  We entered the field.

Lucy and I marched through the grass like a prairie bird hunting pair.  Lucy's nose to the ground, my stride filled with excitement.  The cool rainwater jumped from the grass and beaded off of my White Sierra pants as I bounded toward our destination.  The prairie dramatically morphed into a bowl ahead of me.  The mirror-like pool shined in the sun below.  Now... would there be fish?

I stripped out 20 ft of fly line before tying on my favorite spring bass pattern.  The mud surrounding the dam responded to my boot like quicksand to a weary wanderer.  I was in up to my ankle.  The joys of stockdam fishing after a spring rain.  I cast my cactus chenille crawler toward the middle of the dam.  If I could have one gripe about fishing stock ponds on the grasslands, it is the fact that anticipation is short lived.  After two strips the fly line goes tight.  A green head explodes from the water like lightning from a thunderhead.  Again, the fish leaps through the air without effort and fights for deeper water.  One cast and one fish to hand.  I admire the largemouth before sending her back to the "super secret" spot.  Maybe next time I'll take a few home for the frying pan.

As I grow as a fisherman, I've come to appreciate the settings in which I experience life.  Shortly after that first fish, a pack of coyotes howled over the ridge.  Roosters began to cackle  as they settled in to evening roosting spots.  Like fighter pilots, Pintails and teals conducted flyovers of my fishing hole.  All while the iconic sounds of the meadowlark echoed through the open air.  This setting made me wonder why it had been so long since I've taken the time to enjoy this special place.  Priorities had changed, not only in my family life, but in my fishing life as well.

After a few hours of catching, it was time to go.  My boots now matched my pickup, and my muddy dog.  Trudging back as the sun set in the distance brought back great memories of past stock dam conquests and rainy day quagmires.  You can't get that feeling form a tv show, or magazine article.  Only by being in the moment.  It is a feeling I hope to experience again very soon.  Maybe tomorrow...

Admiring Super Secret

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 not Gary Creek?

Late September offered a rare chance to visit Deuel County in northeast South Dakota.  This county is home to Gary Creek, said to be the only home to naturally reproducing trout in eastern South Dakota.  While I've been to Gary, SD many times, I've only ever fished Lake Elsie, located in town next to Buffalo Ridge Resort.  This is stocked annually and holds some decent rainbows.  This year, I was determined to explore more of the creek to see if, in fact, it holds fish.

Gary Creek winds its way through Deuel County farmland until eventually reaching a portion of town designated as Game Production Area by South Dakota Game, Fish and Parks.  This allows access to hunters and fishers alike.  I walked through prairie grasses along a fence line my decent into the densely populated forest was immanent.  Like at an art gallery, I stopped to take in the beauty of this particular area before following the rough trail down to the clear creek below.  That sound is intoxicating. The trickles and gurgles of the creek as it winds through thick brush and trees.  This place has potential.

Under the canopy of overhanging trees, the creek runs cold and clear.  Other vegetation surrounding the creek make for difficult fly casting.  I press upstream, casting (slingshotting) my soft-hackel hares ear into pool after pool.  Only the occasional curious creek chub would be brought to hand which brought back fond memories of catching chubs in Rapid Creek while my brother and I were kids. Not one trout bolted from the bank, sought refuge under brush as I moved upstream.  Only the chubs darted here and there.

While Gary Creek has many of the components necessary for a sustainable trout population, I can see why they no longer call this place home.  But why not Gary Creek?  Habitat restoration efforts are going on all over the country to create and improve sustainable populations of while trout.  Gary Creek could be one of those projects.  A lot needs to be done, and that means dollars will need to be spent.  We have a difficult time finding funds for projects on our already productive streams of the Black Hills let along a current dead zone in eastern South Dakota.  Partnerships between GFP, South Dakota Trout Unlimited membership and the Black Hills Flyfishers will be required to move forward with actually work getting done.  Funds could come from fishing enthusiasts around South Dakota with the opportunity for them to purchase a trout stamp.  However we raise money, the time is now to start on projects that will make South Dakota a better place.  Let's get something done South Dakota!  Why not start with Gary Creek?

Inaugural "Destination Visitation" Edition

The secret spot we so longingly refer to as "Lake X".  A gem to cross off my bucket list, and a new favorite spot.

How many people do you know with a bucket list?  How many of those folks have actually completed any of the items on that list?

It seems to me that bucket lists are for procrastinators.  I believe it is great to dream, and have aspirations for something bigger and better, but there is a point where you have to keep these dreams realistic and timely.  Bucket list items seem to frequently be activities or locations that will not even be considered until retirement.  If I'm going to have a goal to get to a place, I need to put a time frame on it or it'll never get done.  And if that doesn't get done, I'll likely sit around dreaming about the places I've always wanted to fish rather than being on the water.  

I've decided that 2014 and 2015 will act as a pilot run for this annual initiative.  I'll begin by selecting five locations that have epic possibilities for a particular species who have never seen one of my flies.  I'll keep it in South Dakota for this first year, then we'll consider branching out.  These five trips will be scheduled early and updated often.  By the end of the year, I'll have five new experiences in my hat and likely some great fishing stories to tell around the campfire.  If there is room for an additional destination or two, they'll get thrown into the mix as well.  As one item is completed, another will replace it.  While I'm fairly aware of great fishing opportunities around our state, by no means do I have an all inclusive list of possibilities.  Please comment if you have a fishing hole that just needs to be tried with the fly.  Here is my current list:

East River Trout - Gary Creek, Gary, SD:  Sept 27-28

Gary creek is home to the only naturally reproducing trout in eastern South Dakota.  While I've caught a number of fish in the newly revitalized Lake Elsie, these were stocker bows.  My goal will be to find the brown trout that call this creek home and bring one of these beauties to hand.

Fall Salmon Run - Whitlock Bay, Gettysburg, SD:  Oct. 10-11

Each fall, the Chinook salmon of Lake Oahe migrate to Whitlock bay to spawn.  This process brings thousands of salmon back to the bay allowing SDGFP to collect 250,000 - 1 Million eggs.  Anglers flock like hungry seagulls to cast for the hard-fighting giants.  I've never fished this with Glory-a, but will do so in 2014.  With salmon numbers suffering, my expectations are low.  Possibilities for an epic adventure, however, are certainly great.

Westbend Smallies - Westbend Recreation Area, Lake Sharp:  Oct. 18-20 or May 2015

I'm ashamed to admit that I've never taken the time to pursue smallmouth at westbend with my fly rod.  Not only are 18+ inch smallies a very good possibility, the sheer numbers of fish in this popular fishing hole make the most seasoned of veteran fisherman salivate.  Most go for walleyes, few chase the smallies.  I will join that elite group this fall or next spring.  Pheasant hunting may be part of the October adventure.

Oahe Northern Pike - Lake Oahe - 2015 Ice Out (April)

I've said it for two years in a row, "I'm fishing lake Oahe at ice out."  Each year has brought on a set of circumstances and eventual excuses as to why no attempts were made at 15 - 20 lb northerns.  The main reason was my pursuit of big rainbows just below Oahe.  It's time to break out of my comfort zone next spring and pursue the hungry monsters of the deep lake.   Now if I can only get my boat working properly...

20+ lb Common Carp - Lake Poinsett: June 2015

I've had an amazing time fishing for carp so far in 2014.  A friend shared a secret location with me, and I've found some new spots to add to the list.  Lake Poinsett is one of those NE SD lakes that holds mass quantities of big fish.  Northerns, smallies, white bass, walleyes, crappies and perch can all be found with relative ease.  There is one species, however, that grows big, and is rarely targeted...the common carp.  This will be a priority of mine in 2015 if not sooner.

This is my list.  As soon as I have the experience, and write about it, I will replace it with a new adventure.  Future adventures on the waiting list include:  Jim River cats, Rapid City racetrack pond carp, evening mousing on Rapid Creek, Smallies and Carp on the Cheyenne River below Angostura, Summertime cats on the Belle, Shadehill Reservoir northerns, Mobridge/Pollock Spring walleyes.  As you can see, I need some more options for epic adventures.  Let me know what fishing hole deserves to hold a spot as a "destination visitation" location.

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.

How can you HATE the Bighorn River?

I had an interesting conversation with a guide/fly snob prior to heading out west.

Me:  Yeah, we're haeding out to the Bighorn for a week.  Pretty excited about it.











Fishing Snob:  Hmm...I hate the Bighorn.  Too many people.  I'd much rather go someplace else.













Me:  Hmm...Good to know.  See you later.

How can you hate the Bighorn River?  I get that it's one of the most heavily fished streams in Montana. I get that fly snobs and enthusiasts will travel from all around for the chance to show their stuff, or get a heavy dose of humility.  But to say you HATE the bighorn river because of other fisherman is snobbery at its finest.

The Bighorn boasts 10,000 fish per mile.

 The best part of our three full days of fishing, I caught all of my fish in near solitude.  Whether because I was fishing while it was 15 degrees fahrenheit on day one,  fishing spots that had been passed up time and time again, or just finding the "fishy" spots, I was catching fish without competing with the masses.  At one point during day one, a great group of guys from Spokane approached me to see if they could fish the stretch of water around me.  I'm not sure if they had watched me catch a few fish, or if they were genuinely interested in this stretch of water.  I let them have it, chatted for a while and moved on to the next hole.  I'll camp out on a spot once I find some fish, but I'm not going to be opposed to moving on unless I know there is a beast in there I've yet to catch.  Even then, I'd still be willing to let a fellow fishing enthusiast have their shot.  As long as they aren't a snob.  Like I said, if I can't find a few fish out of 10,000 per mile, I might need to go back to the drawing board.

We had a great trip out west, and it's something I've come to look forward to throughout the year.  Not only because of the fishing, but the challenge presented (elements, bugs, changing conditions), camaraderie, and chance to see some magnificent fish up close and personal.  Don't turn into a fishing spot snob.  Let's find appreciation for the great resources around us and make the most of our time on the water with friends and family.  Life is too short to hate a fishing spot, or to not fish the Bighorn River. Here are some more snapshots of some beauties you won't find anywhere else:

So Pumped Right Now!

I don't really have anything to say at this point.  Still too pumped about today.  Persistence and positivity pay off I guess.  The photos will say it all.

1st of two hogs caught in Oahe Marina on Saturday

This is one of the many reasons why I fish.

I was so pumped!!

Rather Be Fishing: 2012 Highlights

Here is a short video highlighting a few of the fishing trips Lucy and I took in 2012.  We had a great time on the water together.  Hope to get out more in 2013 with Lillian also by my side.

2012 Bighorn River Adventure

Each year the Tuesday Tyers in Pierre, SD take a trip to Fort Smith, MT to fish the Bighorn River.  Last year was my first time joining the crew.  Here is a short video from the trip.  I'm excited to go back!

Sunday Someday: South Andros Island, BAHAMAS

If you really wanna know, where you can find me...

A double dose of Walker's Cay Chronicles as a young fishing enthusiast and the anecdotal evidence provided present day by the great guys over at Gink and Gasoline about South Andros Island have contributed to my saltwater fishing intrigue.  Not a day goes by that I don't think about the prospect of standing on the deck of a flats skiff in the Bahamas, fly in hand, presentation ready for a hungry approaching bonefish.  To tell you the truth, it wouldn't even have to be a bonefish.  I'd settle for a tarpon or permit as well.  : )

Hell, just an opportunity to fish in the Bahamas would make my life's "top plays".  Until that day comes, I'll just keep listening to Zac Brown Band's "Island Song" while I mentally prepare for the adventures of a lifetime.