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...

White Bass Bonanza

I love talking to other anglers about their fishing experiences, fly fishing or otherwise.  Lately, I've happened across of number of folks who had a disappointing year in 2014 fishing for white bass.  You see, in Pierre, SD, we have a very special resource in our white bass population.  During the spring spawn and throughout the summer, they can be found in large numbers throughout the Missouri River system.  These fish are usually fat and sassy and very willing to take a variety of patterns.  And when you do it right, they rival walleye as table fare.

I can hardly recall an occasions where the white bass fishing has been less than stellar.  2014 was no exception.  I have expressed my surprise when the conversation briefly goes to white bass and thoughts or fears about low numbers.  While the numbers are not all time highs, they were still pretty great last year.  The fish did seem to be more particular in the patterns they favored, but were still very willing to take when presented with the right fly.  I remember one day in particular when I stood next to another angler at my favorite white bass spot hooking fish after fish.  His pattern offered the same color scheme as mine, however, was different in size and weight.  He did not hook a fish.  I offered one of the "working" flies, but he was content.  Awkward turtle moment...

Here is a short video featuring a few of the fish caught in 2014.  Early season fish were some toads!  Here's hoping for a 2015 run that rivals it.  Enjoy.



Whitey Ford Fourteen from Buddy Seiner on Vimeo.

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.

Fishing with Bitterness

Burt with a hefty and battle tested Oahe Bow

My name is Buddy Seiner, and I'm an elitist.

The first step in the recovery process from being an elitist (AKA - Head up your ass syndrome) is by admitting there is a problem.  I found out today, that I have one.

It was 65 degrees in Pierre today.  After enjoying most of the day, and doing a few projects, I decided to head to the marina to chase rainbows (if the pike would let me).  Fellow fly enthusiast and Golden Bone pro staff member, Jason Burt, agreed to join.  While many trips were taken throughout the winter months, only northern and musky have come to hand for me in 2015.  We were optimistic that today would be a good day for rainbows.

The day was made when I stepped into the water.  Bald eagles were calling from their cottonwood perches, Canada geese flew in perfect fighter jet formations overhead, while fat black midges clumsily glided through my personal space over, and over again.  I could have very well stood in the water without a rod and still enjoyed that moment in time.  It was beautiful.  And it was about to get better...

"FISH ON!!"

Burt's first Bow in Oahe Marina

I heard Burt yell from across the marina.  My first thought, "Please don't be a northern, please don't be a northern".  *SPLASH* A green back erupted from the water, thrashing as a big rainbow does when hooked in the top lip.  I started into long, wader-laden strides, toward the fight.  This was a special moment for Burt...His first Oahe marina rainbow.  A few photos were followed by accolades and excitement.  Burt experienced all the symptoms that came along with my first, and most recent, marina rainbow.  Excessive excitement, shaking, huge, shit-eating grin, more shaking, and anticipation!  It was fun to be a part of it.  Not long after, Burt hooked into another football shaped fish, and we started the process all over again.  **FIST BUMP**

Now, it wasn't long after that second fish that my problem reared it's ugly head.  Somewhere in between fish 1 and fish 2 some anglers staked a claim on the opposite shore where the ice had cleared.  "That's a great spot," I told Burt.  I've fished alongside bait guys many times in that marina, and it usually ends in them asking me what I'm using to catch fish.  I know anglers experience great success when using live bait for these big rainbows.  We all know that Rainbow doesn't want to be fed, Rainbow wants to hunt.  Still, I had never personally witnessed live bait anglers land a toad rainbow (technical term) in the marina...  Until today.

After Burt released his second fish, I waddled over to my spot to proceed with what I call fly-casting. Soon, I noticed one of the guys hauling in a big, fat rainbow.  My heart sank.  "No!" I thought as they tossed it on the ice heave.  Then the other guy landed one.  Bitterness entered my heart.

How, on a day like today, could I be bitter about anything?  I commented to Burt, "For some reason, that really bums me out."

Burt reminded me that if it were a walleye or a catfish, we wouldn't give it a second thought.  He's right.  And I completely understood.  So why did it not remove the bitterness?  Why was I still upset that those anglers on the opposite shoreline had bucketed two beautiful rainbows?  Am I becoming an elitist of catch and release?  Was I becoming a, *GULP*, fly fishing SNOB??

Step two in the recovery process is proper reflection.  After having some time to reflect, I feel I've determined the root of my elitist evening mentality:

1 -  There are very few places in South Dakota where this experience can be had.  These big fish don't come along every day.  Yes, we are catching rainbows, a very prominent resource in our state, but they are catching fish that have already beat the odds.  These fish that have come from an unnatural hatchery setting, been thrown to the wolves of the wild, and survived.  And then they stumble across a hapless minnow twitching on the end of a crappie rig.  Well...  Rainbows are placed in the South Dakota great lakes because they would not be there otherwise.  They are placed here for the enjoyment of anglers (both in fight and table-fare).  Their size has nothing to do with the reason they are there.

2 -  It shouldn't be that easy.  For some reason, the idea of these guys tossing out some bait and hauling in what holds on made the work that I put in to catching fish seem less meaningful.  This is complete bull-shit as you can already tell, but I'll write more about why to make myself feel better.  I have caught more fish via fly than I could have imagined.  Essentially, I'm creating a very realistic food source imitation and presenting it in a very appetizing way.  Who is cheating here?  I was intrigued by fly-fishing because of the challenge it offers.  Yes, there are still challenges that exist, but I can more easily overcome them with the fly.  I almost always have the advantage.

3 -  This resource might not be around forever.  We need to preserve it so future residents (mainly myself in the future) can catch bigger fish.  This is so selfish!  Again, Jason was my voice of reason here.  This resource was put here for all anglers to enjoy.  If some want to enjoy it on the dinner table, why shouldn't they do that?  It's like my brain abandoned every bit of skilled dialog training and fishing zen I've received and was switched to negative scenario auto pilot.  What if they discontinue the stocking program and they completely wipe out the rainbow fishery?  What if they chop up that fish and leave it in the freezer for 3 years?  Bladdy, bladdy, blah.

January Marina Musky

4 -  I wasn't catching anything.  For the first time this year, I had zero takes.  Not even my good pals the northerns were showing my fly any love.  I am supposed to be out-fishing the bait anglers, right?  This is a competition, right?  This is proving my worth as an angler, right?  Wow...so wrong.  I've said many times that I could die any day completely content with the number of fish (and their size) that I've  caught over the years.  I should have been pumped, not only for Jason, but that two other anglers got a chance to experience the rush of a rainbow.  It's a great feeling.  

The last step in my recovery process is acceptance.  Yes, I had a weak moment.  It happens, and might happen again.  I know I'm not an elitist.  My progression as an angler is my own, and not that of any other.  I love fishing, and will always share a common bond with anglers of all specializations.  I'll be out on the water again tomorrow.  If live bait should win the day, maybe I'll wander over to their side of the marina...to ask them what they're using.