Field Notes – Uptown Angler Version

After starting the day with a cup of cafe au lait and a plate of beignets at Cafe Du Monde, my wife and I then enjoyed a stroll through the St. Louis Cathedral. Katy then retreated to her first meeting of the day, leaving me unsupervised.

A quick Google search revealed that the Uptown Angler www.uptownangler.com was only .6 of a mile from our hotel (12 minutes estimated walking time, according to Google maps). I left immediately.

As the name implies, Uptown Angler – located at the corner of Julia and Magazine streets – is something of a high-end speciality fly shop (there were a couple of Hardy rods on the back wall). I was the only customer in sight – possibly a byproduct of the howling winds that have been blasting the city and surrounding waters for the past couple of days. Store manager Dave Best confirmed that the wind had slowed the fishing and even prompted a couple of guides to reschedule trips. The warm weather (70s) had also messed with the fishing a bit.

Best (pictured left) said winter usually doesn’t deter many of his customers, as some of the largest redfish of the season are caught during the cooler months.

“We catch them year round, though,” he added cheerfully. “I really like to fish in June and July. It’s hot, but you can catch a lot of fish.”

Best said he has been managing the store for “about five months.” If it was his idea to put the rack of saltwater spoon flies (made by local guide, Rich Waldner www.fishwithrich.com and absolutely deadly for redfish, Best said) on the counter by the cash register he might have a bright future in retail. Such goodies are fishing candy and difficult to resist. I bought two (one chartreuse and one purple). 

Granted, we don’t have a great need for saltwater tackle or catch many redfish in my home state of Kentucky. But I’ll be on Arkansas’ White River in a couple of weeks. Maybe the trout will like them, freshwater not withstanding.

Field Notes – New Orleans Version

I’m in New Orleans for a couple of days doing little more than loafing around. My wife is in the city for a professional meeting and I’m along for the ride.

While my wife was preparing to address a group of medical professionals, and ignoring the fact that I should not be allowed to walk the streets without supervision, I took a morning stroll around the French Quarter. Thanks to my wife’s employer we’re staying in one of the fancy downtown hotels and not somewhere in the bayou in an access-by-boat-only fishing shack, which are my usual accommodations, so the Quarter was within walking distance.  

Decatur Street, which more or less marks the Quarter’s south boundary, is about a pistol shot from the Mississippi River, which visitors can enjoy by way of the Riverfront walkway/park. There were few folks on the walkway at 9 this morning. The most interesting characters I met was the guy chugging beer from a plastic pitcher and his two companions, both of whom apparently weren’t aware that Mardi Gras ended two days ago. The guy with the pitcher kindly offered to share his drink. I thanked him but declined.

The Quarter itself is an odd place. Quiet (it was mid morning) and a bit nasty (although cleanup was underway). I noticed that Decatur Street has a strong tourist feel to it. A lot of people were out; mostly out-of-towners like me. And car traffic was steady. But as I moved north, crossing Chartres, Royal, Bourbon, Dauphine and Burgundy streets before emerging on North Rampart only a handful of folks were out and about. The only noticeable vehicle traffic were delivery trucks, most of which were hauling beer.

The Quarter was quiet, but simmering. Perhaps the deeper one moves inland the more potent the sin level – that which is best pursued under the cover of darkness.

The photos are a glimpse of the Quarter in the a.m. Most are self-explanatory.

I don’t know what the guy was doing with the boat.

Clemons in Charge and Other News of Moderate Interest

My friend and colleague Alan Clemons was recently named Southern Managing Editor for Deer and Deer Hunting magazine www.deeranddeerhunting.com, which means that fine publication is about to get even better. Clemons comes armed with a newspaperman’s timing and a let’s cut through the clutter editorial approach. Readers will enjoy his work.

All eyes in the bass fishing world will be trained on Louisiana this week as the Bassmaster Classic begins Friday on the Red River. The Big Deal will be running out of Shreveport-Bossier City, La. I’m not attending the Classic this year but my friend Jeff Samsel is. Jeff is an excellent writer and probably knows as much about bass fishing as some of the competitors. Follow the action on Jeff’s blog at www.jeffsamsel.blogspot.com.

The Kentucky Department of Fish and Wildlife www.fw.ky.gov recently announced that it would begin stocking Floyd’s Fork with trout. This is a creek near the Louisville/Jefferson County metro area and is the centerpiece of an ongoing park project by 21st Century Parks www.21cparks.org. The Fork, as it is known to the locals, will be a “seasonal” trout fishery with stockings in March, April and October. Trout will likely not fare well in The Fork under a broiling Louisville summer sun. Game officials are encouraging catch-and-keep.

Gun Talk: Use What You Have

At church Sunday evening, while I should have been focusing on what the minister was saying, my mind kept drifting back to a question my friend Gary asked during the pre-service meet and greet time that hinges around the coffee pot.

Gary had been sharing his recent deer exploit (one day afield; one small buck). Gary is retired and is not an experienced hunter (he’d borrowed his son’s muzzleloader for the hunt) but was very pleased with his deer success. He said he was thinking about trying turkey hunting and said someone told him he’d need a  ”3 1/2-inch” shotgun. He wasn’t sure what that meant.

Another friend, who is a skilled and highly experienced hunter, joined the conversation and – with only the best of intentions and wanting only to help – delved into the attributes and detriments of various chambers, chokes and gauges. His information was accurate and detailed but long before he announced that a 12 gauge, full choke 3-inch would be okay for turkeys, Gary’s eyes had glazed over. I know this look. Your listener (or reader) has no idea what you’re talking about and (in Gary’s case) is too polite to say so.

I’m often guilty of this and wonder how many of us unintentionally cool a budding interest in hunting or fishing with an onslaught of data resulting in sensory overload. Wishing to help, we dump an avalanche of information on someone and, suddenly, if you’re on the receiving end of this pronouncement, the endeavor appears hopelessly complicated.

I caught up with Gary after church and asked what he’d decided about a turkey gun. He shrugged with an “I don’t know” kind of smile.

I told him that I am not a turkey expert (I’m not; far from it, in fact) but suggested that he use the shotgun he has, regardless of gauge or chamber. Just use what he’s comfortable shooting. He offered that the only shotgun he’d ever used is the one he used for squirrel hunting. I said that a gun that will handle squirrels will down a turkey. We talked briefly about patterning his gun so he’d know its effective turkey range but I thought his gun (a 12-gauge 870, 3-inch, modified fixed, as it turned out) would be fine.

My friend seemed relieved. I only hope that the advise was sound.

Cabela’s Coming to Kentucky

Cabela’s, Inc., www.cabelas.com announced today that it plans to open a retail store in Louisville, Ky.

Construction will begin this summer. The store should be open by early 2013.

The Sidney, Neb.-based outdoor retailing giant is planning an 88,000 square foot facility that will be located near the I-265 and I-71 interchange and will probably employ around 200 people (full and part-time).

Details coming in the business section of The Courier-Journal www.courier-journal.com.

Notes on Fly Fishing

Enjoyed a pleasant afternoon strolling around the Kentuckiana Fly Fishing Show at the Fern Valley Inn in Louisville Ky., on Saturday The show was hosted by the Derby City Fly Fishers www.derbycityflyfishers.com, who put together a solid show stuffed with just enough gear, vendors and seminars to keep customers occupied without sliding into sensory overload.

Ran into several friends (Larry Drake, Dick Haas, Tim Tipton and Lewis Bradley to note a few) and met several folks who I hope to soon see on the water, among whom was Dustan Harley. Harley is the head guide (and owner) at Ripple Guide Service www.rippleguides.com out of South Bend, Ind. He grabbed my attention when he started talking about steelhead and salmon and the conversation quickly turned to scheduling a trip.

Enjoyed a similar Wisconsin-flavored smallmouth and trout visit with David Barron, owner/operator of Jacquish Hollow Angler www.jacquishhollowangler.com. And a stop at the Elk Springs Resort www.elkspringflyshop.com table, where resort manager Chad See was touting the wonders of West Virginia’s trout fishing, led to talk of sampling their angling.

In the seminar room Lee McCellan was making such an impassioned plea on behalf of several local waters (Elkhorn Creek, Green River and Otter Creek, among others) that had the weather not been painfully windy and cold half the guys in the room would probably have grabbed their gear and been out the door. McCellan is associate editor for Kentucky Afield magazine, an information officer for the Kentucky Department of Fish and Wildlife Resources www.fw.ky.gov, and a skilled and passionate fisherman. It showed.

The show was slanted toward trout, which is the species most anglers (and probably non-fishermen) associate with the fly rod. I enjoy trout fishing as much as anyone and fish for them as often as possible. But I live in warm water country. And although several trout streams are reachable in a day trip – including a couple of exceptional tailwater trout fisheries – it’s bass, bluegill, crappie, redear, pumpkinseed and their various brethren, catfish and carp that comprise the bulk of the local angling menu. Maybe that’s why Jack Miller attracted such a large crowd.

Miller is probably the best fly fishing ambassador his Clarksville, Ind., Bass Pro Shops store www.basspro.com employer could have. The guy just likes to fly fish. He likes for others to fly fish. He’s good at it and he knows how to teach others how to fly fish. (Miller is a FFF certified instructor.) He spent most of his seminar time talking about the fun and challenge of warm water fly fishing. His basic advice: think big. Big flies. Big line. Big casting.

“If you’re going to start warm water fly fishing a heavier line with help you,” Miller said. “The proper technique will help you. The double haul will help you.”

I know plenty of men (and a few women) who want their fly fishing water cold and trouty or not at all. To bad. Fly fishermen who haven’t wrestled with a 1/2-pound bluegill, 2-pound smallmouth, 4-pound largemouth or 10-pound carp should get out more.

Kentuckiana Fly Fishing Show

Looking forward to attending the Kentuckiana Fly Fishing Show www.kyflyshow.com tomorrow (Feb. 11) in Louisville, Ky. This will be the seventh year for the one-day show, which is hosted by the Derby City Fly Fishers www.derbycityflyfishers.com.

If you have any interest in fly fishing (bluegill to trout; rank novice to full-blown snob) this one is worth your time. It’s a good, low-key show, manned by knowledgable, helpful folks and will also feature a handful of seminars and 35 or so venders. It usually attracts 600 to 700 visitors.

It’ll be at the Fern Valley Hotel and Conference Center, which is located on the south side of the city just off I-65. If you’re in the neighborhood check it out. 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. local time.

Green Fish

I went to Otter Creek Thursday afternoon. This particular Otter Creek is in Meade County, Ky., and one of a handful of streams the Kentucky Department of Fish and Wildlife Resources www.fw.ky.gov manages as delayed harvest trout water. That means only artificial baits can be used and any trout caught between November and March must be released. It’s also a method for the state game agency to stretch its trout dollar, but that’s another story.

All the trout are stocked but they aren’t the only fish in the water, of course. There’s smallmouth bass, rock bass and others. The creek had been high and muddy but it falls out quickly and I heard from a good source that it was a little high, but “fishable.” The weather was also 58 degrees and sunny – about as good as it gets in early February.

I arrived to find that about a half dozen other people had the same idea I did. The water was a little high but nothing unmanageable. Fly rod wavers were scattered down the creek past the first bend, a distance of about 250 yards. I strung up a 3 weight (it’s a relatively small creek) then decided to shoot a few photos before I started fishing.

A guy downstream was working a nice pool. He was also standing in a patch of sunshine so I walked along the bank to shoot a few photos. His fly casting was pretty sloppy – not nearly as poor as mine; but far from perfect form. He quickly caught a fish, a short but chunky smallmouth bass. I sat the camera aside and watched. Within 20 minutes or so he’d caught four more smallmouth between missing a couple of strikes. But he seemed irritated and the more fish he caught the more irritated he became. He finally reeled up and started sloshing from the river in my direction. It suddenly dawned that he was probably mad about the camera, although I’d taken no photos. I readied myself for a rude greeting or worse. He exited the water and came straight toward me. I asked about the fishing – a typical creek side comment.

“It’s okay I guess,” he said. “Except I can’t catch a trout because of those damn green fish. You know what they are?”

I first thought this was some kind of joke then realized it wasn’t, and said, ”I think they’re smallmouth bass.” Then added, “I’ve heard that this is a pretty good smallmouth stream.”

He said something unprintable about the general sporting qualities of “green fish” and huffed up the bank to his car. As soon as he left hurried for my rod and waded in to fish the hole he’d abandoned, from which, of course, I caught nothing.

Eggner’s Ferry Bridge

Details will be forthcoming about Thursday night’s collision and collapse of two spans of the Eggner’s Ferry Bridge, which is the Highway 68/80 crossing of Kentucky Lake on the west side of the Land Between the Lakes National Recreation Area – a major destination for folks who like to fish, camp, hike, backpack, hunt, ride ORVs, look at animals and loaf around outside.

The bridge was struck by what Kentucky state transportation officials are terming a “large supply ship” – actually the 312-foot Delta Mariner.

I’ve crossed the bridge numerous times and been underneath it often (it’s a popular fishing spot). The photo was taken from the Fenton Access, a popular launch/take out point. I’m not an engineer but it doesn’t take a trained eye to determine that the bridge is something of an antique. It opened in 1932.

This will certainly be a large inconvenience to locals and visitors – including many fishermen, campers and other LBL visitors.

The miracle tonight is, according to early news reports, that there were apparently no injuries. No automobiles in the water. No one missing from or injured on the boat. All else can be repaired.

Gearing and Re-gearing Up; Again

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fly fishing

A couple of nights ago I spent a considerable amount of time unpacking and repacking my fly fishing vest. This wasn’t conducted in a practical or organizational vein. It was largely a waste of time as all that happened was that I emptied one vest and filled another. During the course of the evening I also sorted through the entire contents of my fly tackle bag; discarding nothing, even those items that haven’t been wet since Reagan (or maybe Carter) occupied the White House.

For reasons that don’t need to be addressed here I own several fishing vests. The two I most often use are nearly identical in design except that one is constructed from a stiff, heavy fabric; the other from thin, lightweight stuff. However, my decision to move from one to the other has nothing to do with the weather or season. I have no reason. That would somehow defeat the exercise. I wouldn’t refer to this as a ritual and obsession seems too strong a word. Habit, perhaps. My daughter Sarah, who fishes because it’s apparently wired into her genetic code, finds this behavior perfectly normal; even natural. My daughter Rebecca, who fishes only to appease Dad finds it mildly amusing. My non-fishing wife – an obsessive-compulsive knitter and reader – just smiles knowingly and says nothing.