Spring Consumed!

Well I mowed the lawn yesterday.  Spring is finally here, but not final.  It snowed today! The trees we planted last year are starting to blossom!  I'm simply happy that they didn't die during the winter.

Busy! Busy! Busy!  I was already chasing spring way back in Dec. in pursuit trout.  We definitely took care of the itch during the cold season.  If I could give any advice to cold weather anglers to make your outings more pleasurable, it would be to keep a pair of  "hand warmers" in your pockets.  They are cheap and so effective at conducting heat into your hands.  Also of note, I camped out a handful of times this winter. The next best thing to having your loving companion next to you, is to sleep with these hand warmers.  You will likely end up tossing your warmers out of your bag, removing your hat or sleeping bag hood.  When you have these guys in your bag the chore changes from attempting to maintain heat to regulating it!  What a wonderful problem to have in below freezing temps!

Now I'm sure your are more interested in this winters photography records.

New ball cap design I put together, SOLD OUT! Thank you all!

My buddy who sticks fish and puts together some Sweetness in Graphics, he is called Mike Larsen.

Seam Shot! by Jordan Gilbert of Crimson Jaw

 This Little Piggy! Photo by Jordan Gilbert

Runnin' Shot by Cortney Boice

Carp Photo by Scott Jackson

 Photo By Phil Tuttle of OutSmartingFish.com

Bloody Pike Photos By Colby CrossLand of TheTroutSmith.com

 The Crimson Duo haulin' slabs!

 This Photo by Jordan Gilbert of Crimson Jaw

Photo by Jordan Gilbert

The Gall

Check in with CrimsonJaw.com for a solid Steelhead Post!

Good Day Sir!

A great day on the water and I was lucky enough to have a great camera dude on the boat as well.  David Komatar of Way Back When Pictures, was present to collect our experience.  The angler is a dude we call Colby Crossland.

Kudos Dudes! Thanks for furthering my cause!

Without further ado!

Masochists

I couldn't believe the most recent post here is all the way back in September.  Unbelievable!  The fall leaves have flown as has the time.

Plans were set.  Jake and myself had found a day that we could both be on the water pursuing Tiger Musky.  Another friend, Derek, and myself sent a phone call out to Jake from the boat ramp late in the morning.  Jake who had been serving time behind his rod all morning in pursuit of Tiger Musky met us in short order.

 As he rounded the shoreline into view, a musky size net sat  perpendicular to his person across his back.  The net bag was clearly carrying a burden. One not typical of a fishing net.  My first guess was that Jake's shore lunch was too large to fit in his pack and he had made convenient use of the depressed and empty net.  It was clear when he arrived at the boat that he not only brought the tools and skills to entice an eat from a Musky but he was building karma to close on a musky as well.  His net was full of garbage and flotsam! Boom! Look out musky, you will eat! TODAY!

Fast Forward.

Musky appears, Beast!  It seems that it has just come off a good run at Jake's fly.
No eat.  Musky! Here! Gone!

Fast Forward.

The boat crew has now built to 4, with the addition of Phil.
Jake's fly has not been out of the water long enough to catch its breath.  If his fly were a terrorist, it would have relinquished any information Jake asked of it and then started to fabricate information long ago.

"Here's one!
 Here's One!
 Here's One"
said Jake.

I looked over the gunwale from the console and there it was.  Nearly 4 feet of it!
All 4 of us, now peering over the side intently, studying every move this marvelous fish was making!
All 4 of us, peering over the side intently, studying every move Jake's fly was making!

The musky was on the verge!  4" of water was the only obstacle preventing the musky from ending Jake's fly.

Jake killed his fly and let it sink.  The musky maintained it's 4" buffer!

Jake accelerated the fly.  The musky maintained it's 4" buffer!

Jake figure-eighted his fly.  The musky maintained it's 4" buffer!

These scenarios repeated over and over again as the boat coasted about 50 yds.  All 4 anglers, hearts pounding out of their chests, leaning over the fly and musky, absolutely enraptured!

After an extremely short eternity the monster settled back into its abyss, leaving a boat full of shaking knees and pounding chests!

MUSKY!  One word, shouted as both an expletive and a jubilation!

Terribly awesome!

So much success and so much failure experienced in the same moments.  A truly fearsome monster raised from the depths with craftsmanship, skill, and karma. So close to capture and so far.

Truth be told, what a wonderful fish to take four grown men back to the youthful anticipation of Christmas morning only to rip it from their grasp!

The musky can give you everything you've ever desired of fishing and take it all in the same moment.

And we LOVE them for it!

PS.
Karma collected this day!  Jake stuck a hog musky 20 mins after the rest of us hit the road! Some people deserve fish.  Not only because what the fish means to them personally, but because they have put in the work, time and effort to be rewarded.  Musky are-----Work, Time, and Effort!
Congratulations Jake!

You can find more of Jake's good work at The Colorado Trout Devotee.

Derek and Phil are part of a site known as OutSmartingFish.com.  They put together tremendous content!

Other World!

I'd been itching for a Grayling trip. As things began to line up, I had one of my oldest friends in town from HI.  We woke up one morning and hit a REI garage sale to see if we could score a few things that we "absolutely needed," ha.  As luck would have it I found a righteous deal on a down bag and my buddy collected a few items as well.  Good start to a great outing!
We hit the trail in the afternoon and started the relentless uphill climb in search of Arctic Grayling! By its name alone the fish conveys something "other worldly."
Years ago it was this "other worldly" quality that relentlessly beckoned to me.  After quite a bit of research I settled on a group of lakes that seemed to be my best option for a local-"out of this world" fish.  It was these lakes that gave my wife her first fish on a fly rod, an Arctic Grayling! These fish and this place hold a strong place in my soul.
Enough of that tangent.

We continued our march.  Realizing this trip, unlike trips past, that there is beauty in the journey.  We marched intermittently enjoying the pleasures of our surroundings.  Trips past have been all about the destination and the fish.  To a large extent fishing is always the motivating factor through the miles, I rarely hike at all unless there are fish included in the destination. This is most likely why I did not remember the hike being so vertical, my only memories were of the fish and the lake.

I am lucky to be passionate about such a thing as fish.  They are very generous, both as table fare and often take you to the most beautiful places this earth has to offer.
Up and up!  Passed lakes, passed people. The trail peetered out into braided game trails.  We'd arrived! One lake, NO people! Ideal!

We surveyed the water as we prospected sleep sites.  The lake seemed to be barren!  We set up camp and strung the rod.

Down to the waters edge! The only sign of life thus far had been scattered tufts of Mt. Goat hair.  Wait, add one bleached mule dear skeleton.  As the sun set the water began to communicate fish locations.  I worked my way towards an end of the lake nestled below a cirque.  Structure began to reveal itself and I placed a peachy, little soft hackle, with a golden bead head just off the deep side of a submerged boulder.
Lighting struck! Not in a jerk-the-rod-out-of-your-hand kind of way, but just as sudden!
The evening light burst from the Grayling's fins as it attempted to liberate the soft hackle from its fluorocarbon path.

The remainder of the evening followed this theme.
We surrendered to the invading darkness and stumbled back into camp to share memories and updates of families gained.
I hit the sac this evening tired and rejuvenated.  An existence only mountains, fish and dear friends can conjure.
Thank you Father.
 By: Targhee Boss
Utah Fly Fishing Guide
Utah Grayling

Reporting: Again, More fishing per fish!

Gene and Kyle excelled at giving every probable ambush a sound thrashing.  Gene found the "Skunk Off" treatment right off, which is always nice.  Next Kyle hooked into a fish at the back of the boat and shouted, "There is another one, right behind it!"  At the same time my eyes slid over to Gene's fly, lying in the water off the starboard side not 10 ft,  Boom! A flash from the depths, and Gene lifted his rod.  It doesn't get much better than two simultaneous bent rods on the boat!  We netted Kyle's and dropped it in the live well, while securing Gene's fish for the "Double Shot!"

Kyle and Gene continued catching as the wind slid us silently along the cover.  

We had intermittent sun throughout the day.  With each brief window of sun our eyes were scouring the cover.  I'd spotted a fish in ambush behind a tangle of cover and pointed it out to Kyle, telling him to place his fly just to the right of the tangle.  Expertly, he sent the pike a barbed package wrapped in feather and mischief.  Splat!  The pike was not moved!  Kyle began swimming the package.  "He's on it!"  Faster than fast, quicker than quick the pike erupted after the fly.  The pike abandoned her mission in the last moment.  Hearts were pounding and the pike decided not to disappear, but held just off the bow.  Kyle put his fly on the pike again, no love.  But after Kyle's second presentation the pike was now swimming down the port side, right into Gene's presentation.  Gene was persuasive. His fly and the pike had a brief but explosive exchange!  What a FISH!  

"Skunk OFF"

Thanks Gene, this one is always the most important! 

The Brute

 Doubled!

 Young of Year

 Dropfin, landing gear deployed.

 Smiles!

 Waiting out some significantly, gusty moments!

 Thanks Kyle and Gene for putting me on the water.  It was a pleasure and a privilege to fish with such classy cats.  Tight Lines until next time!

By:Targhee Boss
Utah Pike Guide

"He's on it! He's on it!"

Never have I experienced more fishing, in pursuit of a single individual fish, than I have with pike. 

As we drifted the brush line I spotted a Pike bathing in the shallows. A shadow, a horizontal minority contrasting a vertical majority. 

The cast would be difficult.  The fish had found comfort among the tangles of submerged foliage.  Tyler loaded his rod and shot the fly into the the mess.  "Splat!," said the fly as it hit the water 2 feet in front of the pike. 

For those unschooled in the vernacular of the fly world, SPLAT!, is an expletive.  The human equivalent would most likely be along the lines of , "Oh @%#*!"    

The pike was not moved. 

Tyler swam the fly.  

In an instant,  a berm of water raised the calm surfaces and the pike had disappeared from it's lie.  In that same instant the pike appeared just before the fly, aborting it's path of chaos. Quicker than quick and faster than fast, the fly remained untouched.  The pike vanished.  

We knew it's original position. We continued to drift past and then circled back wide, replicating the initial drift.  Tyler loaded and shot the fly back into the calm aquatic forest, hoping to provoke more of the same chaos.  I, being precarious perched on the edge of the bow and slightly higher,  first spotted the pike that had again materialized just behind the fly. 

"He's on it! He's on it!"

Tyler responded and quickened the retrieve.  0-30 mph later, the pike found itself inseparably attached to a gaudy, biting demon. 

This prey proved immensely stronger than the pike's initial assessment.  The pike's viscous thrashes, rolls and razor teeth had no effect upon this opponent's stamina or strength. The pike found itself netted and drawn from it's water world where giant, scaleless ogres hefted, admired and documented it.  Upon retrieving the demon from it's jaws it was gently returned to the cool of the water.  It found it's next station in ambush.  As the drift commenced an emphatic, "What in the Hell?!," bubbled up to the surface.  

"What in the Hell?!"

Dad with a healthy "Skunk Off" treatment!

I found this guy day-dreaming in the sun, immobile.  Tossed a foam trouser worm over his shoulder and

stripped it up to his nose and let it drop.  He tracked it for 2-3 ft and decided he was hungry.

Trouser-ed!

Thanks to Flycarpin.com for designing an awesome fly!


By: Targhee Boss

Photography by Drake Munson

Drake sent over some photos from a few weeks back.  Thanks Drake!  Skilz with the Lenz!

Report: Frozen Fingers to Warm

Cold Start this week!

Two Old boys getting it done!

 First pike smiles!

Report: Steely Nerves and Short Circuits

Great sharing the boat with Drake this past Thursday.  Drake had some engagements early in the day. We met up and found the water at about 12:30pm.  It was apparent early on that the fish were in for it this day.  Drake throws monster flies as well as he throws tight loops.   The wind was up and about, as it always is, so we put it to work.  We found fish quite consistently throughout the day.  Spotted a few females in the shallows.  The males were dogging them eager to make a contribution.
We found a location with enough water clarity that we were able to sight fish.  There comes a point in a fisherman's life that he may think he has seen enough eats to close the deal with a fish, despite its zealous rush upon the fly.  Let me tell you it is difficult "as all get out" to maintain composure when a pike rockets from 0 to 30 mph in an extremely small distance and explodes all over your fly.  This all culminates at your feet and I will be the first to say I lost it. With all this happening faster than fast, it is difficult to NOT react in a like manner.   It was such an exciting moment that I ripped the fly from the water as quickly as the pike reached it.  It is impossible for the hook to find flesh in this scenario, as it jumped from the water millimeters in front of the fish.  To much, too fast = short circuits! We laughed and enjoyed the moment.  Had this fish been monster, laughs may have been replaced with expletives.  Good day indeed!

 Snake