.
Get'cha FLY On Fisha'
Friday, August 31, 2012
Monday, August 27, 2012
Nomad Nets
If you haven't yet had a chance to check out Nomad Nets I suggest you climb out from whatever you've been hiding under and give'em a lookski. I picked up the mid-length net for it's ability to be used wading or in the boat. Nomad net's are made of a fiberglass / carbon fiber composite which in normal folk speak means it's gonna last a lot longer than that heavy wooden net you've been dragging around. The mid-length checks in at just 400 grams at 37" in length and the handle and bottom half of the net hoop are coated with a rubberized paint which Nomad calls "Olive Riverkoat" for excellent grip when the handle get's wet. Best of all the net floats, so if you drop it during your big fish victory dance it can easily be retrieved. After putting the net to use I have to say the only gripe I can come up with is that the mid-length version does not come with a scale like the boat and guide nets. Oh and the price... but hey your grandpa was right when he told you, "when it comes to hookers and beer, you get what you pay for". Check it here.
Friday, August 17, 2012
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Fly-Carpin: Tricks of the Trade #1 - Saving that $3.00 fly
The guys over at FLYCARPIN put a humorous spin on freeing flies from any "vengeful inanimate object."
- If you are snagged on the bottom and can get close enough you can easily get your fly back at least 90% of the time by running your rod tip down the line and leader while stripping in the line with the other hand until it hits the fly and pushes it off. Double check that your line is still strung through the tip. This usually makes your fly go through the top eyelet, even and especially if you fly is much too big to possibly fit.
- This does not work with two fly rigs or indicators. This is the only definitive (and admittedly highly irrational) proof I have that both are evil.
- When snagged deep or too far out working out some extra line and throwing a hard roll-cast past the snag a couple of times occasionally works.
- Standing tall and screaming "f-ing snag" is encouraged during this process. You are probably going to scare any nearby carp with this rather violent and noisy technique in order to save that $3.00 fly and might as well get your licks in while you can.
- Hold the rod tip high and forward with as much line held off the water as possible. Gently wiggle the rod tip side to side and fore-aft so that the line develops standing waves with pulses of LIGHT pressure followed by slack.
- You can pretty much tell that you have progressed from gentle wiggles to violent thrashing when your rod breaks.
- Walking over and gently pulling the fly off of whatever ails you works really well.
- Yeah, this always surprises me as well.
- When all else fails grab the line in your rod hand, point the rod and pull with slowly and steadily increasing pressure.
- Neither tungsten nor lead is delicious. To avoid eating it channel your inner baseball pitcher and keep the rod butt low and outside.
- If your favorite fly gives you a prison tattoo or piercing somewhere on the fore-arm grit your teath and repeat after me: "Fly-Carpin is not responsible" and " De-barbing is for wussies.".
- Heck with it, tie your own flies and save the money.
- If you buy that I have at least $3000 dollars in partially used bags of fly-tying material I will sell you.
Friday, August 3, 2012
Thursday, August 2, 2012
DAMNATION
When I began considering dam removal, the Elwha River quickly
emerged at the top of my list. The river flows through the heart of
Olympic National Park. It once hosted the most prolific salmon runs in
the Northwest. And the tiny amount of electricity from the dams could
easily be replaced from other sources.
I went to the Olympic Peninsula to take a look. Sure enough, it seemed the perfect place to begin. The two dams down near the mouth of the river appeared completely out of place in the splendor of the great old-growth forests. I convened a press conference to announce a new era of dam removal, beginning here at the Elwha River.
And then all hell broke loose. Washington State’s senior senator angrily condemned the idea, vowing, as ranking member of the Department of Interior Appropriations Committee, to put an end to such nonsense. Other members of the congressional delegation chimed in, in opposition. Newspaper editorials ridiculed the plan.
A few weeks later President Clinton took me aside, looking somewhat bemused, and asked, “Bruce, what is all this stuff about tearing down dams?”
His innocent-sounding question was really a cautionary admonition. Our administration was already caught up in a bitter and politically costly controversy over the spotted owl and logging of old-growth forests in the Northwest. Friends reminded me that cabinet secretaries who stir up too much controversy can and do lose their jobs. The Elwha project would have to go on the back burner for a while.
That public opinion was flooding in against us was hardly surprising. Back then, tearing down dams to restore rivers seemed a capricious idea dreamed up by another meddling bureaucrat. Why tear down perfectly good dams?
We quietly set about rebuilding our case. Within the Department of the Interior we began preparing an environmental impact statement loaded with cost estimates, hydrologic computations, sediment studies, fish mortality statistics and regional economic impacts. However, of all the arguments thrown up against dam removal, the most effective was simply, “It won’t work. The salmon have been gone for a hundred years. What makes you think they’ll return?”
Somehow, somewhere, we had to demonstrate that fish do come back. We needed to show and tell – with a small dam, built within recent memory, surrounded by a friendly community that actually remembered the fish runs and their importance to the community.
And finally we found a candidate, at the other end of the country on a little-known river on the Atlantic Coast of North Carolina.
It turned out that the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service was already quietly at work on the Neuse River where a small diversion dam built in 1952 near the mouth had killed off one of the most prolific spawning runs of American shad, herring and stripers on the Atlantic Coast. A power company had built the Quaker Neck Dam to draw water for cooling, and it was perfectly feasible to design an alternate intake method.
On a clear winter day in 1997, we assembled on the river bank. I took a few swings at the concrete with a sledgehammer, and a wrecking ball finished the job. By springtime, fish were swarming up the river, passing through Raleigh 70 miles upstream.
The success at Quaker Neck brought national press and began to turn public opinion. Across the country local communities came up with proposals, and dams began to come down – at Kennebec in Maine, along the Baraboo River in Wisconsin, the Rogue River in Oregon, and the Butte and Clear Creeks in California.
With public opinion now moving our way, nationally and in the Northwest, we ratcheted up our efforts in Congress to finish off the Elwha dams. Slowly, at what seemed a glacial pace, funding started to flow, finally coming to fruition in the Obama administration.
In the space of two decades, dam removal has evolved from a novelty to an accepted means of river restoration. Most importantly, the concept has taken root in hundreds of local communities as residents rediscover their rivers, their history, and the potential not only to restore natural systems, but, in the process, to renew their communities as well.
I am asked, “After Elwha, what is your next priority?” That’s like asking, “What is my favorite national park?” My answer tends to vary depending on what I have been reading and where I have been hiking most recently. But my nomination would be the four dams – Ice Harbor, Lower Monumental, Little Goose and Lower Granite – that have transformed the great Snake River in eastern Washington into a slack-water barge channel, destroying thousands of miles of salmon habitat in the Rocky Mountains and driving four salmon species to the brink of extinction.
Others will have their own compelling priorities – and there are still 75,000 dams for consideration.
About the Author
Bruce Babbitt served as governor of Arizona from 1978 to 1987 and as secretary of the interior from 1993 to 2001. He is presently working on watershed conservation in the Amazon headwaters of Brazil and Peru.
Also check out the trailer for the upcoming film Damnation.
" The Patagonia-sponsored documentary film DamNation chronicles dam removal efforts across the United States as told through impassioned interviews and spirited stories about the people entrenched on both sides of this divisive issue. It presents a dynamic perspective on our nation’s attempt to harness the power of water at the expense of nature by examining the history and controversy behind dam removal projects. Dam removal is no longer the work of a fictional Monkey Wrench Gang. Call it a movement or call it a generational shift in values, but momentum is building behind large-scale river restoration. Watch the trailer, at www.damnationfilm.org."
I went to the Olympic Peninsula to take a look. Sure enough, it seemed the perfect place to begin. The two dams down near the mouth of the river appeared completely out of place in the splendor of the great old-growth forests. I convened a press conference to announce a new era of dam removal, beginning here at the Elwha River.
And then all hell broke loose. Washington State’s senior senator angrily condemned the idea, vowing, as ranking member of the Department of Interior Appropriations Committee, to put an end to such nonsense. Other members of the congressional delegation chimed in, in opposition. Newspaper editorials ridiculed the plan.
A few weeks later President Clinton took me aside, looking somewhat bemused, and asked, “Bruce, what is all this stuff about tearing down dams?”
His innocent-sounding question was really a cautionary admonition. Our administration was already caught up in a bitter and politically costly controversy over the spotted owl and logging of old-growth forests in the Northwest. Friends reminded me that cabinet secretaries who stir up too much controversy can and do lose their jobs. The Elwha project would have to go on the back burner for a while.
That public opinion was flooding in against us was hardly surprising. Back then, tearing down dams to restore rivers seemed a capricious idea dreamed up by another meddling bureaucrat. Why tear down perfectly good dams?
We quietly set about rebuilding our case. Within the Department of the Interior we began preparing an environmental impact statement loaded with cost estimates, hydrologic computations, sediment studies, fish mortality statistics and regional economic impacts. However, of all the arguments thrown up against dam removal, the most effective was simply, “It won’t work. The salmon have been gone for a hundred years. What makes you think they’ll return?”
Somehow, somewhere, we had to demonstrate that fish do come back. We needed to show and tell – with a small dam, built within recent memory, surrounded by a friendly community that actually remembered the fish runs and their importance to the community.
And finally we found a candidate, at the other end of the country on a little-known river on the Atlantic Coast of North Carolina.
It turned out that the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service was already quietly at work on the Neuse River where a small diversion dam built in 1952 near the mouth had killed off one of the most prolific spawning runs of American shad, herring and stripers on the Atlantic Coast. A power company had built the Quaker Neck Dam to draw water for cooling, and it was perfectly feasible to design an alternate intake method.
On a clear winter day in 1997, we assembled on the river bank. I took a few swings at the concrete with a sledgehammer, and a wrecking ball finished the job. By springtime, fish were swarming up the river, passing through Raleigh 70 miles upstream.
The success at Quaker Neck brought national press and began to turn public opinion. Across the country local communities came up with proposals, and dams began to come down – at Kennebec in Maine, along the Baraboo River in Wisconsin, the Rogue River in Oregon, and the Butte and Clear Creeks in California.
With public opinion now moving our way, nationally and in the Northwest, we ratcheted up our efforts in Congress to finish off the Elwha dams. Slowly, at what seemed a glacial pace, funding started to flow, finally coming to fruition in the Obama administration.
In the space of two decades, dam removal has evolved from a novelty to an accepted means of river restoration. Most importantly, the concept has taken root in hundreds of local communities as residents rediscover their rivers, their history, and the potential not only to restore natural systems, but, in the process, to renew their communities as well.
I am asked, “After Elwha, what is your next priority?” That’s like asking, “What is my favorite national park?” My answer tends to vary depending on what I have been reading and where I have been hiking most recently. But my nomination would be the four dams – Ice Harbor, Lower Monumental, Little Goose and Lower Granite – that have transformed the great Snake River in eastern Washington into a slack-water barge channel, destroying thousands of miles of salmon habitat in the Rocky Mountains and driving four salmon species to the brink of extinction.
Others will have their own compelling priorities – and there are still 75,000 dams for consideration.
About the Author
Bruce Babbitt served as governor of Arizona from 1978 to 1987 and as secretary of the interior from 1993 to 2001. He is presently working on watershed conservation in the Amazon headwaters of Brazil and Peru.
Also check out the trailer for the upcoming film Damnation.
" The Patagonia-sponsored documentary film DamNation chronicles dam removal efforts across the United States as told through impassioned interviews and spirited stories about the people entrenched on both sides of this divisive issue. It presents a dynamic perspective on our nation’s attempt to harness the power of water at the expense of nature by examining the history and controversy behind dam removal projects. Dam removal is no longer the work of a fictional Monkey Wrench Gang. Call it a movement or call it a generational shift in values, but momentum is building behind large-scale river restoration. Watch the trailer, at www.damnationfilm.org."
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