Waitlisted

Growing up, everyone played hockey. My brother and I lived across the street from the hockey rink and during the winters we played everyday. All the kids from the neighborhood would converge on the rink. We would toss all of the sticks into the middle and toss them blindly to the left and right. That’s how we picked teams.

We played when it was cold enough to crack a puck. We played from sun up to sun down. We played until the lights went out.

I quit playing organized hockey about 10 years ago. Not sure why but it happened. Sold or gave away all my gear except my skates. Picked up a stick and some gloves a year or so ago to play some shinny hockey. Recently picked up a new pair of skates.

I’m on the waitlist for the FHL (Fun Hockey League). Hoping it’s a short list. I’m ready to play.

A few thousand casts later

Tuber and I have been at this two-hander thing for little over two years now. Since early 2007 to be more precise. We both started out picking up more rod than we needed for the waters we fished. Back then we didn’t know better but we didn’t care. We had to get out there and see what it was all about.

We both came at it from different angles. I stumbled upon two-handers on the internet and he was lucky enough to have two buddies who were a year ahead. Now it consumes us and we can’t stop talking about it.

We are probably the only two people who have ever thrown a two-hander on the Anchor, Bird, and Ship. I know I am probably the only person who has worked the two-hander at the peak of sockeye season in Southcentral. Not exactly the proper stage but it’s water and it was what we had to work with. If you’ve ever fished those waters you know it doesn’t take much more than a nine footer to cover every inch of water and then some. To say the two-hander was overkill would be an understatement. The Anchor was probably the worst place to apply the art. Most of the time we just flipped the tip. Bird and Ship weren’t much better but at least you could stretch one out there once and a while when the tide was in. We usually ended up fishing water others wouldn’t or couldn’t.

We got some stares and some funny looks for sure. Thirteen feet of rod and fly line thick enough to winch a jeep out of the mud flats is strange if you didn’t know any better. It was fun and we felt like pioneers.

Lucky for us we’ve been able to find some proper water to apply the down and across. Like the stretch of water we go back to every spring and the new piece I discovered this year. And the old water that’s new water because we can now look at things from an entirely different angle.

This two-hander business has changed everything. I find myself fishing the single-hander and throwing spey casts about half the time now. It’s opened up new water and has made those tough spots easier to fish. Now it seems as though there is no piece of water we can’t fish.

At first we knew very few people who ever used a two-hander on the waters we fished. We never saw another person swinging the big stick. Now it seems more and more folks are toting along a two-hander. There aren’t many but it’s growing. I’ve never actually seen someone outside of our crew making the casts and taking the steps. It’s equivalent to a big foot sighting I suppose. I’ve seen a few pictures but have yet to run into someone on the water working the two-hander.

I think that is cool.

A little over two years into it and I’ve managed to collect a few things. A lot of it is gear but a big chunk has been knowledge and experience. I started out barely chucking the head of a Rio Skagit 450, a 10 foot cheater, and a 10 foot T-14 tip on a Sage 7136 Z. I now know why the 450 wasn’t cutting it for me on the 7136 and what it takes to chuck a giant bunny leech (if you don’t know yet I’ll give you a clue – short, fat and more grains per foot). Now I’ve got the 7136 loaded with Airflo Ridge, Compact Skagits heavy enough to launch a dead chicken, and a shit ton of zip lock bags of custom made sinktips. I’ve also managed to pick up two more sticks more appropriate for the waters I fish. The 6126 Z helps bring some smaller water in to play and makes tangling with the everyday fish that much more fun. A new addition, the 6110 Z, makes brushy bank channels and brushy freestones where trout like to hide accessible and a blast for swinging sculpins and leeches.

A few thousand casts later and I can now make the cast more often to get me fishing. I know a little more about how to fish a swinging fly and not just leave it up to chance.  What keeps me truck’n along is  looking for more pieces of water and opportunities close to home to swing up more rainbows, more steelhead and that first king on the two-hander.

Skagit Master – New Water Media

About a guy who likes to fish

End of the drought

Since early July I’ve been on the water a few hours here and there but not with a fly rod. It’s been about 60 days since I fished for me. When you go on droughts like I do you get a bit anxious and rowdy when the next opportunity rolls around. A lot rides on that first cast…that first take…and that first fish.

The anticipation is almost unbearable. It isn’t until you step out of the boat, wade into the water, and make that first cast that you settle down and remember why there isn’t anything else you would rather do than this.

This past week I finally was able to get back at it. The trip was in the works for a year or so. Fished with Savoy last year about this time. Thought we might try it again this year. I was able to work in two full days…sun up to sun down.

Rolled into camp late Friday night and eased into the program. With cold beer in hand and a camp fire, Savoy and I got caught up and prepped gear for the next day.

By the looks of the campground it was obvious there was going to be a bit of traffic on the water. It’s been like that for years now. I’m not quite sure how the river handles it but it does with great fortitude and determination. Fortunately there is a lot of water to cover and not everyone has patience enough to work a run properly. Leaves enough fish for the rest of us willing to take it to the next level. The fish are usually better all around.

For two days straight Savoy and I worked the runs, seams, ledges, dropoffs, and side channels. We were lucky enough to pull more than our fair share of better than average fish. Much different game than last year. This go around it was more of a sight thing. Great feeling to spot one, match the hatch, and connect. I caught myself several times holding my breathe as I anticipated the take.

60 days is a long time between casts.

Nice spots.

Big head. That guy was no more than 10 feet away in water barely deep enough to cover my knees. Watch where you wade and work near to far.

Dolly Jabba.

Back you go.

What are the odds?

Camp life.

Dinner...bigger the better.

Morning launch.

Heading upstream.

2 o'clock...

Sight fished in 2-1/2 feet of water. Full sun.

Photo credit: Alaska Department of Fish & Game. License check.

Fumble.

Angler’s Tonic – Greg Thomas

Angler’s Tonic is about living a good life with much of it experienced through fishing, meaning the places we visit, the people we meet, and the amazing things we see along the way.

An absolute passion for fishing means Angler’s Tonic brings you compelling true stories, some from as close as our backyards and others from the brink. We understand that fly fishing isn’t easy and we don’t portray it any other way; angling, in what amounts as a metaphor of life, rewards those who persist and punishes those who think all great experiences should be heavily sterilized and served on a silver platter. Fly fishing is about frustration, self discovery and, sometimes, exaltation. It isn’t about buying a $600 pair of waders, a vented cotton shirt, plus an $800 rod, and announcing that you’ve arrived. Angler’s Tonic is a lot about us telling each other, at the appropriate time, of course, “Deal with it.”