Texas Fish in a Periodic Table

This little piece of work I’ve put together was inspired by another periodic table making its way around the twitter. I quickly forgot what it was when I got the idea for a Periodic Table of Texas Freshwater Fish. After a quick web search I found a fly and fish periodic table on a t-shirt; but that didn’t quite fit the bill for what I wanted. Wanting something more Texas-fish centric I set to task on an excel spreadsheet. What I have made is simple and merely applies grunt logic. Basically, that means if you think about it really hard- you can probably find a better way to do it. But it does work for me and it helped sooth my Terminal Angling Syndrome for an hour.

Sadly, yes this took me an hour to plug-in and figure out what fish goes where. You’d also be surprised how hard it can be to avoid duplicating two-letter codes. However, if it works for you- give it a like or a retweet on the interwebs. See the full size chart here.

See you on the high ground,
AirborneAngler

Overgrown Goldfish – Carp

My last qualified fish before I became unqualified for the Mixed-Bag tourney was a Carp. Some people apparently get ‘fever’ from this.

While I am not one in on the ‘Carp-Craze’- I was intrigued at the gold color and symmetry of its scales. For the record, and not to be a total hater- the fish did fight well and put a big bend in the rod. But in the end I still think Carp are ugly fish. For those of you who don’t. I’ve made the featured photo above. I made it with my iPad on Autodesk Sketchbook Pro, and you can use it as a wallpaper/background for the electronic device of your choosing; for free!

See you on the high ground,
AirborneAngler

D-day plus 155 (D+155)

Cease fire, cease fire!

Everyone, I have an announcement to make…

I will no longer be a participant in the main contest of the Texas Hill Country Mixed Bag Tourney.  Sad as this sounds, the AirborneAngler is not out of ranks.  In fact, its more of a promotion.  As a new Editor for TexasRiverBum.com, organizer of the Mixed Bag Tourney, I am no longer eligible as staff.  I will be participating in the staff and sponsor running- which, oddly enough puts me in first place!!! Aside from Mike, everyone you’re welcome.

I am excited to be on the TRB team (does this make me Pro?) and look forward to the new challenges in my fly fishing adventures to ever be… “on the high ground”.

See you there,
AirborneAngler

Folly 12 o’clock high

“One last cast,” that’s what I told myself as I cast my new, super-short, 3wt fly rod. I went to Brushy Creek for lunch because the itch to learn the feel of my Cabela’s CGR fiberglass rod was insatiable. The short 5’9″ set up was exactly what I needed working this creek. Like many waters running through the Texas Hill Country, Brushy Creek is exactly that- brushy, overgrown with not-a-lotta room to work with. Clearance is limited and this little glass fly rod was just the ticket to tackle it.

The only fish that came to hand was a nice little bass. The fun thing I am learning on fiberglass is how the rod doubles over no matter the size of fish. When I said one last cast (again)- I double checked my watch. If I didn’t run back to the office- literally run… I wasn’t going to make my one o’clock meeting. Not allowed to be late I did like any good paratrooper would do; I did the airborne shuffle back on in.

I made it on time… barely.

Foolish as it may have been to risk being late for a lunch time fish- making it on time by the skin of my teeth made that little bass that much larger.

Go fish something.

See you on the high ground,
AirborneAngler

Blood on the Risers

I was reminded today of an old whimsical airborne classic, “Blood on the Risers.” To the tune of “The Battle Hymn of the Republic”, this song is a favorite of this paratrooper that I wanted to share. I have obtained the lyrics and reference information from Wikipedia here.

Blood on the Risers
“He was just a rookie trooper and he surely shook with fright,
He checked off his equipment and made sure his pack was tight;
He had to sit and listen to those awful engines roar,
“You ain’t gonna jump no more!”

(CHORUS)

Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die,
With your rifle in your right hand as you’re falling through the sky.
Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die,
And he ain’t gonna jump no more!

“Is everybody happy?” cried the Sergeant looking up,
Our Hero feebly answered “Yes,” and then they stood him up;
He jumped into the icy blast, his static line unhooked,
And he ain’t gonna jump no more.

(CHORUS)

He counted long, he counted loud, he waited for the shock,
He felt the wind, he felt the cold, he felt the awful drop,
The silk from his reserve spilled out and wrapped around his legs,
And he ain’t gonna jump no more.

(CHORUS)

The risers wrapped around his neck, connectors cracked his dome,
Suspension lines were tied in knots around his skinny bones;
The canopy became his shroud; he hurtled to the ground.
And he ain’t gonna jump no more.

(CHORUS)

The days he’d lived and loved and laughed kept running through his mind,
He thought about the girl back home, the one he’d left behind;
He thought about the medics, and wondered what they’d find,
And he ain’t gonna jump no more.

(CHORUS)

The ambulance was on the spot, the jeeps were running wild,
The medics jumped and screamed with glee, rolled up their sleeves and smiled,
For it had been a week or more since last a ‘chute had failed,
And he ain’t gonna jump no more.

(CHORUS)

He hit the ground, the sound was “SPLAT”, his blood went spurting high;
His comrades, they were heard to say “A hell of a way to die!”
He lay there, rolling ’round in the welter of his gore,
And he ain’t gonna jump no more.

(CHORUS)

(slowly, solemnly; about half the speed of the other verses)
There was blood upon the risers, there were brains upon the chute,
Intestines were a-dangling from his paratrooper suit,
He was a mess, they picked him up and poured him from his boots,
And he ain’t gonna jump no more.

(CHORUS)

And at the gates of heaven, to Saint Peter he shall tell,
One more soldier reporting sir! I’ve served my time in hell,
Saint Peter will just smile and say you have served you country well,
And he ain’t gonna jump no more.,

Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die,
Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die,
Gory, gory, what a hell of a way to die,
And he ain’t gonna jump no more!”

And there you have it folks. If you hear this on the water- it just might be me.

All the Way!
AirborneAngler

D-Day plus 141 (D+141)

Confirmation Carp- tango (target) down!

There you have it folks, the bottom line is up front. Memorial Day 2012 the hex of the golden ghost MIA on my Texas Hill Country Mixed Bag campaign was broken.

Fishing began late in the weekend on Sunday afternoon due to other previous engagements. Being somewhat in the area, I first made way to the Frio River at and below Garner State Park thru to Concan, Tx. Two words- epic fail. Being the Memorial Day weekend with river-goers out in force, every point of access along the Frio River was maxed out to capacity and then some. Such to the extent that I could only assume there was no solace to be found even places in between. So, I moved on.

This brought me to the far eligible areas of the Mixed Bag tourney on the Nueces River. As fate and the Texas heat would have it, this too was no-go as well. Starting in Uvalde, Tx I found the Nueces to be all dried up with hardly a spits worth of dual-hydrogenated mono-oxygen to be found. Greatly depressed I moved up river with higher hopes and less expectations.

With slowly diminishing day light I pressed up north checking each access point for a possible throw in as the flow trickled in. These points too held cooler-laden, lawn chair-toting, folks as well- but to a much lesser degree. Finally, I found an unassuming point which was very hidden away that I was able to put in at. A resident/swimmer in the area making the beer run from the near by pool to her truck cooler noticed me rigging up. The conversation was short and she feinted kindness. I was greeted, questioned where I was from, how I found the spot, and friendly reminded to have my fishing license close on hand. Apparently, the local game warden “Javie” in the area was quick to ask and check for licenses. Oh, and I was advised to stay off the banks- the “other neighbors” were quick to ask people to step off their property as well.

Undeterred, I raced into the cool clear water. Being used to the stained Colorado River, and more recently the equally stained Guadalupe, I was astonished at the swimming pool clarity. Kindly greeting and passing by the resident’s flock of companions I pushed up river. When I hit the first bend in the Nueces is where I bumped in to fish. The first was a good-sized Redbreast sunfish, who true to form, fought like a bass thrice his size.

Next in contact was an equally sized slab of Rio Grande Perch. I am always amazed by the beauty of thier markings. They never cease to cause my head to cant and release smile. Shortly thereafter I was near assaulted by some freaky-sized, top-water, wolf spider-looking arachnid. Shrieked like a girl. Then, I shrieked like a girl again when escaping the man-eating spider coming within a foot of a man-eating snake. Fortunately, no one was around to pull my man card and you have to accept/believe me when I say they both had fierce fangs and ugly scowls.

With the impending end-of-evening nautical twilight upon me I headed back in. While fishing the Nueces and scouting the Frio rivers was fun- I did have a hit list I had to get to; and I knew exactly where my target was. So, I packed up and took the longest possible country road route to the Pedernales Falls State Park. The Pedernales River is where I would find my tango gathered in mass. With the drive weighing in on me I settled in a half hour shy at the Lyndon B. Johnson National Historic Park. Not planning on camping until the moment, I made due to sleep in my vehicle. As you can imagine the slumber was not the best but I made due- sacrifices had to be made. Before I knew it I was back up and racing to beat the sun rise to assault the water.

Because we know where it goes from here I’ll try keep it short. For a solid 3 hours no carp cared for what I cast. Giving up all my carp targeting flies I tied on old faithful; Dave’s Flying Cat. The flying cat has been my go-to fly for this entire tourney. This time it did not disappoint either. I had basically given up on carp and started aiming for drum. I pushed off from the carp sanctuary pool I had been swatting the surface at and moved further down the Pedernales River. Then across the bank I saw a shadow. I cast to it swiftly. In a blur whatever the flying cat had landed behind turned and simply took the offering.

Fellow fly anglers say their precious carp are intelligent, or instinctivvely intelligent. I say they are dumb trash fish who spook at the sign of anything; rain drop, fly on the water, anything. Call me a hater sure- but they do put up a good fight. This one took several good runs that made me put him on the reel. I was worried he’s break the 4x leader I had on line. But at the end of the day, I won. See how he turns his head in shame?

Recap, three Texas Hill Country rivers, two days, one carp. Winning.

See you on the high ground,
AirborneAngler

Dirty Worm (Micro Worming)

Spoiler Alert: The contents of this post contain non-traditional fly fishing techniques. Purist read at your own risk.

What is micro worming? Well, I call it dirty fly fishing- but fly fishing none the less. It’s simple, high-stick-dead-drift a Texas rigged soft plastic worm on a bone fish hook… and voilá! You are micro worming.

Purist argument- it’s not fly fishing. Not a dry fly. You didn’t tie it. Dirty dirty dirty.

Rebuttal: If you don’t tie your own flies already- you have no room to talk. Just my opinion. So, purists may have a point there in the fly. For non purists, it’s just another underwater pattern. However, the technique, high-stick-dead-drifting is a fly fishing technique; and the delivery system is still a fly rod and fly line.

So, what’s not fly fishing about?

Maybe you can call it more fly catching? All I know is this technique is deadly on Small Mouth Bass and Guadalupe Bass.

If the guy who taught me this wants credit for this technique- admit your guilt in the comments below. I’ll reference, cite, and hyperlink below for the annals of history to credit your infamy fame. If you want to deny the genius of the dirty worm and hide in shame- I’ll never admit your name rhymes with ‘Dave’.

Promise.

See you on the high ground,
AirborneAngler

UPDATED: I found this dirty little secret here.

OD Damsel DP

New fly boxes demand new flies. Not by merit of the box being new- but in the likely scenario that it’s a larger fly box and there’s more space for more flies. So let the fly tying begin!

In stalking Redhorse and Carp for the Texas Hill Country Mixed Bag Tourney– I’ve learned to tie a new fly for my casting arsenal.
Disclaimer- sharpshooters be warned; I suck at tying flies and as with many things in life I learn misguided. Or in cases of less failure- by the numbers, crawl, walk, run.

The intent here is to tie a fly both a Carp and a Redhorse are willing to take; dual purpose. For the clever- you now understand this jacked up hybrid fly’s nomenclature: OD Damsel-DP.
To be clear, I am a fan of neither Carp or Redhorse suckers. However, i personally believe fly tying adds a new dynamic to the full enjoyment of fly fishing. So if and when I catch a Carp or Redhorse on one of my own self tied flies- I’ll be proud I caught it on a OD Damsel-DP; size 16.

See you on the high ground,
AirboneAngler

Stalking Redhorse

The first thing you will notice is that there is no photo to accompany this post. The reason being lies in the dynamic of the word “stalking”. I did not choose “secured” or “caught” because I have done neither with the Redhorse; I have only been stalking it.

Participating in what possibly might be the “Best Fly Fishing Tournament in Texas“, I have been actively pursuing the Redhorse on the Guadalupe River for the Texas Hill Country Mixed Bag tourney to no avail.

Alas, all (both) my attempts have been in vain and the Guadalupe River has denied me. So, this is a net call to all my fellow fly fishing anglers. I need your help. All previous patterns, a few bead headed nymphs and scuds, have been ignored by the packs of wandering Redhorses I’ve found. I do not know if it I the particular patterns or set up- but so far it’s been no dice.

What’s your advice? Choice of pattern, method to rig, and technique to fish? Let me know in the comments below. To the first person who’s tips and techniques work I will, in trade, offer 5 self tied Texas River Bum Flying Cats.

Thanks.

See you on the high ground,
AirborneAngler

Gasper

Here is a sketch of a fresh water drum I fished out of the Colorado River a few weeks back. It turned out to be too small for the Texas Hill Country Mixed Bag tourney- but this little drum inspired enough motivation to pick up pencil and paper for a little FishArt.

And without the filter.

As soon as I can hit the Colorado River again I’ll be fly fishing for more drum. Hopefully to pick up some points if not just more FishArt inspiration. Stand fast and be ready!

See you on the high ground,
AirborneAngler