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Archive for 2010


 

Hola everyone,

The crazy retail world that i’m very much a part of has come and gone again, another Holiday notch in a belt riddled with them.

I hope you are able to spend times with friends, family, loved ones, or at least a fire, a bottle of your favorite vice, and a good book.

Happy holidays,

die Fische

P.S. This photo was originally put on this blog in December 2008. It was taken by me back then as i entered Barton Creek at Lost Creek for a day of fishing. Till this day i have no idea who put the deer there. Vandalism/thievery is probably one of my least favorite things, but this was so incredibly ingenious that i can’t think of the holidays without having this image come to mind. When people were freaking out and demanding all kinds of ridiculous stuff from me at my work this last week, i pictured this moment and managed to smile. I hope you will too.

Thank you anonymous.

 

Red Bud Isle is an Island of Solitude these days. The canoes, dogs, and fellow fishers have no doubt retreated to their rustic cabins pining for the warm days of summer.

Likewise, the fish seem to have gone into a funk, and not the good kind (no Eddie Hazel’s here). I figure they’re gathering in the deep pools, plotting schemes that they’ll hatch next spring.

So with great surprise I was able to take a couple of Red Breasts on a neon green popper today. Normally i wouldn’t write about such meager prospects, but i’m nowspending a tiny few hours (if that) fishing each week, something that will certainly be changing once the retail holiday hours are over. For now, the sun is cashing in its vacation time, people are loosing their minds and manners as the holidays approach, and the fish (if small) are still biting. So i’ll ditch the craziness when i can and be appreciative of any fish that’s sucker enough for a popper that resembles nothing in nature.

Man. The “Fates” are really testing my mettle.

Working in retail, it’s a little hard to find any time away around the holidays. So after a long day of cleaning house  i floored it and headed to Pedernales for some respite from all the holiday insanity. Forty five minutes later i was flying around the bend on 290, preparing myself for the sudden arrival of the “Pedernales State Park” sign. Suddenly the low-key, brown placard appeared looking like a UPS driver stranded on the shoulder.

“PARK CLOSED”

“Well…F.”

After pulling off on the shoulder, screaming and shaking my fist at the sky, and then the ground just to cover my bases, i ran through the mental catalog of spots that i could make it to before dark, not many.

As the sun set i pulled into Blanco State Park (below), the polar opposite of Pedernales in many ways. Seeing freshly stocked rising below the dam i ran, rod in hand ready for action.

“Well…F.”

P.S. I got skunked.

Yeah baby! Today began with thoughts of lost water sandals and a missing 3WT reel that i was convinced had been lost on a recent excursion to McKinney Falls. I have been looking for this reel for four days and finally decided it was gone. “Oh well.” I thought as i walked back into the garage…and suddenly there it was, sitting in a random box of donations for the local Goodwill. Minutes later my wife remembered a random bag from our last outing that lo and behold, had a stinky pair of Keen’s in them. And so my awesome day began.

Hours later we were hiking up and done the Pedernales river sucking in the beautifulcool weather that was finally here in…ahem December. There were definitely way less fish moving and shaking with the cooler weather setting in. After wandering away from the base camp my wife had set up and wandering around for an hour without a single bite, i was surprised to show back up at base camp and have a Bluegill take my fly just feet away from where my son was climbing and jumping around like a ninja on Red Bull.

A short hike later we were at “Pulpit Rock” where i cast over and over in front of my wife hoping to catch ANYTHING substantial so she could see that i actually was capable of catching anything other than sunfish after all this time spent alone on the water. It was looking pretty hopeless as my flies hung in the water without any sort of interest at all, while HUGE fish were jumping all over the place 10 yards beyond my furthest cast. Dang.

I was starting to feel like it just wasn’t going to happen when i made “That Last Cast”. As i slowly reeled the Chartreuse Popper in i suddenly saw the fly disappear in a mess of disturbed water. I was in such disbelief that it took me…ONE…TWO…THREE seconds…to SET THE HOOK!

It wasn’t one of the monsters that was slapping the surface further out, but it was a nice sized Guadalupe, and a handsome one at that.

As we hiked back to the car under the slowly fading sky, i was giddy with delight. The day was full of all kinds of great things, but the most important to me in a weird way, was that my wife saw that i was a successful “Hunter”. Not that it really matters in this day and age, but i’m pretty sure my hypothalamus was patting itself on the back and sipping a glass of bubbly upon receiving word that the family had food for one more day.