Archive | Straight Domestic Fish Pimpin’ RSS feed for this section

Operation Shock and Awe.

9 Jun

The nightmares of shadows following are finally gone.  The screams of a taught line gone limp have been replaced by boat shaking celebration, man hugs, high 5’s, and that mystic chant of Ya’ma Ya’ma Ya’ma Yaaaaa’ma that seems to drive musky wild.

Mohawk Pic.PNG
I’m pretty sure my childhood nightmares of Spike the Gremlin are the same that I have now as a now grown child fighting myself to sleep being chased by musky.  A few days ago Ryan had the bright idea to go on a fish and film for musky.  Throwing all the chips on the table and betting on musky.  Not a smart bet.  When it comes to trying to capture film on a beast that will only show itself about 1 in every 7 million cast.  Or so it seemed.  Both of us had caught skis before, be it by accident, divine intervention or, my favorite, extreme skills. Fishing for theses beast and trying to film them for a world renowned magazine like Southern Culture on the Fly?  Now come on thats way to much pressure……or is it?  You put Ryan and I together with fish and film on the brain.  Magic will happen, with or without those DaM musky.  Trust me, I’ve been there and seen him take one for the team.  It’s not pretty.
Ryan did what any semi-intellegent person would do under these circumstances.  He put down the porn and searched the web looking for lovers.  And he found them in Virginia, the state for lovers.  Apparently musky lovers.  Blane Chocklett (no thats not his stage name) and Jake “I don’t know what to do” Grove of New Angle Fishing Company agreed to bring us along, cameras in tow on a musky outing.  I could go on about how great these 2 were to simply hang out with.  2 great fishermen, true stewards of the waters.  Unbelievably good fishermen who can create real works of art behind a tying vice.  If your ready to learn how to chase the beast or simply cross off the musky from your fly fishing bucket list then these 2 are the guys to contact.  They are moving multiple fish and hooking up far more often than not.  96 I think is what their numbers were on boated fish since january 1st 2012, 17 in the boat in ONE day, yes I said ONE day alone and with clients.
I’ll stop here as I don’t want to ruine the upcoming short video that will come to fruition July 14th-ish in S.C.O.F Magazine.  OOOOO-but wait, there will be MORE TO COME in the future with these to fools.
Charlie Murphy
I’m Rich Bitch!!!!!
Advertisements

S.C.O.F. Magazine issue #3 Spring is Here

22 Apr

The Inaugural Gathering of Fluff Chucker’s.

26 Mar

After a much needed 14 hour sleep, life has started to once again flow though my veins.  After 18 hours of driving time to and from, 2 days of targeting a River Raptor, and a loooooong night of after show debauchery I was drained.  That is to much to compact down into just 2 1/2 days of travel.  Lesson learned I guess.  I can’t say much other than the above so I don’t ruin S.C.O.F.’s future article on the whole shebang…….despite not landing a Musky WE HAD A BLAST!!!  C U in SCON-Son 2013……..

Break OUT your fancY Drinkin Glass S.C.O.F. is here: MAG issuE #2

15 Jan

CLICK IT YOU DONKEY!!!!

I like to read mine in the dark, with a big wooden spoon and a full jar of peanut-butter.

Memory Vault: One Long Day

1 Jan

The 2nd ridiculously rewarding thing we did on our trip out West took place on the night before our last day of fishing in Idaho.  Thank god (or your deity of choice) we all agreed to head back and hit up the hotel again for a good nights sleep, showers and a good meal.  I really just wanted to snuggle with Chris again.  This was probably one of the best decisions, unknowingly, since that next day turned into a LONG ONE!!  Up at dawn, no need to eat because of the massive portions from the meal we had the night before.  The HO was packed and ready to go so we headed for coffee, gas and then the quick hump down to the stream.  We fished pretty much all day, getting off the stream with little light left in the day.  Dropped off the boat at premier and took a quick tour of the Premier Oars and Blades shop with ? Guy who’s name I forget; he had a hat completely covered in used streamer flies and he let me pet him like a dog the whole time.  We headed for a quick bite to eat at a diner/gas station (Rockies) that had one of the best burgers that I have ever eaten in my life—bar NONE!

It was Ryan’s turn to drive in the daily rotation of things, Chris had backseat which would have been the place to be, and I had Co-Pilot.  Our destination was Cody which would take us in through the South gate and out the East gate of Yellowstone park at night………this should be fun.  The nice lady at the gate entrance who’s birthday had to end in B.C. told us to go the speed limit because the park police are always out (our white Tahoe looked just like-em) and the wildlife is always crossing the road.  She said, “Someone hit a bison a few weeks back and the bison won.”  About 3 minutes after leaving the gate a fox ran across the road.  Now I’ve seen plenty of fox’s in my life but come on this thing looked like at least 30 pounder.  It’s probably about 1030  to 11pm when we started into yellowstone and Cody was a solid 1.5-2 hrs away and we had to still hit up wally-world for a license and set-up camp.  Suddenly Ryan hollered out BISON BISON!!!  Chris and I both pooped in our pants a little and looked in Ryan’s POV and nothing.  He flipped a U-turn and headed back and the SOB was standing right in the middle of the road.  As black as NIGHT with a dull reflection off it’s eyes that really didn’t help reflect any light at all.  WOW those F-in things are BIG.  We could have hit that thing going the speed limit 35 or a little more and it would have done nothing but put the engine in our laps and just pissed off the bison.  He slowly walked across the 2-lane and disappeared into the darkness, like a big drunk dude staggering home from the  bar alone.  We made our way to wally-world, then backtracked about 30 minutes to camp.  Set-up shop and went to bed at about 3-330 am only to wake up when the sun hit out tents.  From this moment on in Wyoming it was a Trout Catching Marathon!!!!

This might be my favorite warning sign of all-time.

Continuing Down Memory Lane: Lets See U Try This!!!

28 Dec

Part 1:

One of the 2 ridiculously rewarding things we did this trip was after the 1st day float, when we hopped off the stream early to go find and set-up camp.  It was Labor Day weekend so we were pretty unsure whether or not there was a camp site anywhere in the state of Idaho.  After passing a couple camps that looked like party central Ryan made one of his many executive decisions (it’s always good to have a decision maker and he has done right in the past) to push on up the mountain and see what is available away from the river.  We ended up finding a great site as far as camping goes that was close enough to a stream that we could fish that evening before calling it a night.   Well, we were all jacked up about fishing, since this was a fishing trip, that we set up camp and immediately hit the stream.  Now by hit the stream I mean if you would have fallen you would have literally hit the stream.  Since this 1/2 mile distance from camp to stream was straight down hill and by hill I mean mountain and by straight I mean a wide path of loose rock straight down the hill to the river.  We debated for a few minutes if whether or not the walk back out was going to be worth it or not, but the only way we would ever know is to nut up and go for it.  The walk down wasn’t all that bad, I think we all lost our footing at least twice, nothing was broken except for a good sweat.  Where we ended up looked like one endless rapid, as far up as I could see and eventually as far up as I cared to walk, actually it got faster the farther up I walked.  Like we saw from above it was a beautiful section of water and awful fishy looking.  But it was way to fast to get out into any of the current breaks, but fishing the seams closer to the bank did turn out to be somewhat productive for all of us.  I would guess we landed 20-30 fish between us all in the 2-3 hrs we fished, I know Ryan got into a good pocket way down stream and Chris and I eventually found a couple good runs, but this was a stream that was primed for a good float.  Hence the wide path straight off the mountain I would assume.  I couldn’t imagine roping a raft or anything off that mountain.  The fishing must have been other-worldly at some point in time for that path to be there.

The only thing worse than the walk in was of course the walk out.  I bet it took me 45 min to an hour to walk out.  Chris having the build and stamina of a small mountain goat beat foot to the top rather quickly and I think he tried to start a rock slide down to Ryan and I who paced ourselves together just incase one of us decided to give up and let nature have its way with us back down at the bottom of the hill.  I don’t think either of us would have put out a helping hand if Chris would have rolled by us.  Regardless of it’s torturous walk we made it back to camp in one piece and we brought plenty of picture perfect trout to hand once again.  Would I do it again??  I would think not but who knows, you know how that fishing sickness can get you to do things you body or mind would not normally attempt.

Downloading from the Memory Vault: The Other Side

23 Dec

A few months ago Chris, Ryan, and I put all our fishing chips on the table and bet on the airlines to get us out West to Utah in a timely, safe fashion; complete with all our fishing gear.  Past experiences have left deep, sometimes festering, scars with Chris and Ryan so they decided to ship a good bit of gear out via UPS (smart move!!).  Surprisingly EVERYTHING on the airlines side of things worked out perfectly.  No flights delayed, no gear lost or stolen and the security lines were no slower than expected.  Ditto for the return flights home.

Unfortunately I arrived first in the in the Land that brought us the Second Great Awakening (I ate a Mormon once and he was delicious).  The unfortunate part of arriving first is you get to be the guy that braves the massive lines and bending over at the car rental companies.  I guess when you approach something that is in any way shape or form revolved around the airlines you should approach it with the lowest possible hopes and a completely negative attitude so not to be disappointed.  Surprised once again EVERYTHING went smoothly.  No lines, great price on a full sized SUV and they even carried my 42.7 pound gear bag for me out to the Tahoe.  After loading up the White-Ho and gathering some grub for a few days we continued onwards into Idaho to pick up our rental Skiff from Premier (NoSportsAllowed).  Thankfully after a few last minute phone calls, Ryan used some sort of Jedi mind trick on Royce and the Skiff was there waiting fully loaded (map with secret locations and a full party keg).  Now at this point the rest of the trip gets a little fuzzy since it was basically all fishing all the time, so the exact day and order of things might be a little off…………………………………..

…………………..to be continued.