Otter, Howdy;
Thanks for getting us out of the woods and into ..............
hank
Where are the tout !!!!!
Moderators: William Anderson, letumgo
-
hankaye
- Posts: 6582
- Joined: Tue Jun 08, 2010 4:59 pm
- Location: Arrey, N.M. aka 32°52'37.63"N, 107°18'54.18"W
Re: Where are the tout !!!!!
Striving for a less complicated life since 1949...
"Every day I beat my own previous record for number
of consecutive days I've stayed alive." George Carlin
"Every day I beat my own previous record for number
of consecutive days I've stayed alive." George Carlin
Re: Where are the tout !!!!!
You are welcome , Bushy 
I have a strong suspicion that as we move along I will not recive any negative posts from any observer just in case I might choose to include them. When this gets finished though I ain't loggin on here or opening any post for a month.
Tough one Bill, can't think of anyone that fits the picture, can you.
I have a strong suspicion that as we move along I will not recive any negative posts from any observer just in case I might choose to include them. When this gets finished though I ain't loggin on here or opening any post for a month.
Obviously it would have to be an upstanding citizen, a quiet type of person, more of a listener than a talker.tie2fish wrote:Hmmmm ... let's see. That would have to be someone with experience organizing stuff and blending personalities, right
Tough one Bill, can't think of anyone that fits the picture, can you.
Re: Where are the tout !!!!!
On this forum? You cannot be serious ...Otter wrote:You are welcome , Bushy
I have a strong suspicion that as we move along I will not recive any negative posts from any observer just in case I might choose to include them. When this gets finished though I ain't loggin on here or opening any post for a month.
Obviously it would have to be an upstanding citizen, a quiet type of person, more of a listener than a talker.tie2fish wrote:Hmmmm ... let's see. That would have to be someone with experience organizing stuff and blending personalities, right
Tough one Bill, can't think of anyone that fits the picture, can you.
Some of the same morons who throw their trash around in National parks also vote. That alone would explain the state of American politics. ~ John Gierach, "Still Life with Brook Trout"
Re: Where are the tout !!!!!
William and Bill led the way downstream, their intention was to go about a mile downstream leaving plenty of water for everyone to fish and be back at the rock seat around 6pm. Being a lightly fished river the going was tough, some doubling back , detour’s through wooded areas. No one complained though, what a focussed little group of anglers, a far cry from the comedians that fished the stream in the morning. “Hey shouted Dubbn, “Is that Buffalo Bill and Wild Bill Hickock up ahead?”. “Could be “; sniggered Bushy, “them is mean looking hombres.” All along along their route they encountered enormous clouds of insect life, Caddis were everywhere, dancing in the bushes, skittering across the water surface, one even tried climbing into Williams ear much to everyone’s amusement.
Wild Bill fell back and chatted to Dubbn, outlining some of the water they were about to fish. They were going to concentrate on the broken water, that’s where most of the action would take place and where they were less likely to spook the trout. Bill like William was a stickler for detail, it showed in his flies, his choice of clothes, his rod. Everything about him indicated that he was first and foremost a trout hunter, a pleasure angler second.
Bill liked fun and his attitude belied his age, but when it came to discussing fishing Bill was quite serious behind his light hearted way. He explained that he had fished Turners Cross for at least ten years and rarely fished anywhere else. This was his hunting ground and he knew it intimately. He understood it seasons and its moods and knew where and when to find the trout. Bill did not boast, he had simply applied himself to gaining the knowledge required to be a successful trout hunter and by applying it to a single river he was a master of his craft. Dubby listened without comment, nodding occasionally, enjoying listening to a passionate angler.
William finally came to a stop, surveying the water in front he suggested that Bill and Dubbn start here, he would take Hank and Dougsden further down to the next piece of water and fish up alternating stretches.
“Tight Lines , Dubby “; said Hank, “ best fish gets the first whiskey”. “Tight lines to you guys as well” replied Dubbn and stay out of the bushes my friend.
Bill was in command and Dubbn like an obliging pupil listened intently. “I suggest a simple rig, caddis are hatching but not in great numbers yet, a large dry caddis emerger with a single pupa about 3 foot underneath should tempt a few trout. We have a lot of water to cover so I will show you some of the best spots and ignore the less likely stuff. There is plenty of time to-morrow to do your own investigations”, said Bill.
Dubbn surveyed the water, not quite content to be a pupil he turned to Bill. “Bill I appreciate what you are saying but I make a poor passenger, I’ll do my own driving and if I crash , I crash. On the rig I do agree , it should work fine , but mine will have a dropper with a light pupa and a weighted one two foot deeper, it’s the way I like it.” Bill nodded, appreciating Dubbn’s independence; they would get along just fine.
The riffly water looked real inviting, every part of it suggesting good fish holding water. It was agreed that Dubbn would take the far side, Bill the near. Bill knew that this was tricky water, water that it took years for him to learn where even the average trout preferred and so he started to tell Dubbn the best spots. Dubbn immediately cut him short, “ Bill, I don’t mean to be rude, but lets see if I can read the water myself, its as much fun as catching, ain’t it ? “. And so with the ground rules set they started fishing, Bill half heartedly as he was more focused on his companion.
Dubbn waded across and up through some nice looking water ignoring it completely, this took Bill completely by surprise. Ahead was a small run no more than two foot wide, flanked on his side by some weed and on the other by some really fast water. Angling himself at about 50 degrees to the stream he commenced casting, dropping the dry just of the edge of the weed and the pupa out and into the stream. This was tricky stuff, get the cast wrong and any chance of fish is gone. After the first cast Dubbn realigned his angle to about 40 degrees and set to work again. After a few casts he tightened into a solid trout that tested his leader as brute force was necessary to hold it out from the weed. Well done shouted Bill as Dubbn held up a well spotted trout of about
18”. Both anglers fished on up the riffle taking many trout and when they met at the top. Bill offered his hand , “Well done Dubbn, you read that water like a book”.
Sitting down to rest for a few moments , Dubbn looked at Bill with a big cheesy grin on his face. “Bill, I need to confess something, but you have to swear not to tell the others, at least not until I say its okay”. “ Agreed”, said Bill.
You reckon you have been fishing this river for ten or so year’s, well my new friend , I fished it at least four times a week for nearly twelve seasons and would have stopped only a few seasons before you started, corcumstances forced me to move elsewhwere. I know this river like the back of my hand, no better than the back of my hand. Reaching into his wading jacket he withdrew a little plastic bag, it contained a small whiskey flask and a photo. Handing Bill the photo , he uncorked the flask, poured a small drop into the river, took a sip and handed it to Bill. In the photo was a much younger Dubbn holding a very large trout. “ 34 inches he explained, an epic battle of wits that took four weeks before success finally came”. Bill sipped from the flask, unable to reach for the right words and could only say “WOW”.
Dubbn laughed, “ that whiskey was a 25 year old malt when I put it in the flask, and its been there all these years just waiting for this day.” A solitary tear rolled down Dubbns cheek, he turned to Bill and thanked him for helping make an old anglers dream come true.
Old, old laughed Bill loudly, " your'e only a pup".
TBC
Wild Bill fell back and chatted to Dubbn, outlining some of the water they were about to fish. They were going to concentrate on the broken water, that’s where most of the action would take place and where they were less likely to spook the trout. Bill like William was a stickler for detail, it showed in his flies, his choice of clothes, his rod. Everything about him indicated that he was first and foremost a trout hunter, a pleasure angler second.
Bill liked fun and his attitude belied his age, but when it came to discussing fishing Bill was quite serious behind his light hearted way. He explained that he had fished Turners Cross for at least ten years and rarely fished anywhere else. This was his hunting ground and he knew it intimately. He understood it seasons and its moods and knew where and when to find the trout. Bill did not boast, he had simply applied himself to gaining the knowledge required to be a successful trout hunter and by applying it to a single river he was a master of his craft. Dubby listened without comment, nodding occasionally, enjoying listening to a passionate angler.
William finally came to a stop, surveying the water in front he suggested that Bill and Dubbn start here, he would take Hank and Dougsden further down to the next piece of water and fish up alternating stretches.
“Tight Lines , Dubby “; said Hank, “ best fish gets the first whiskey”. “Tight lines to you guys as well” replied Dubbn and stay out of the bushes my friend.
Bill was in command and Dubbn like an obliging pupil listened intently. “I suggest a simple rig, caddis are hatching but not in great numbers yet, a large dry caddis emerger with a single pupa about 3 foot underneath should tempt a few trout. We have a lot of water to cover so I will show you some of the best spots and ignore the less likely stuff. There is plenty of time to-morrow to do your own investigations”, said Bill.
Dubbn surveyed the water, not quite content to be a pupil he turned to Bill. “Bill I appreciate what you are saying but I make a poor passenger, I’ll do my own driving and if I crash , I crash. On the rig I do agree , it should work fine , but mine will have a dropper with a light pupa and a weighted one two foot deeper, it’s the way I like it.” Bill nodded, appreciating Dubbn’s independence; they would get along just fine.
The riffly water looked real inviting, every part of it suggesting good fish holding water. It was agreed that Dubbn would take the far side, Bill the near. Bill knew that this was tricky water, water that it took years for him to learn where even the average trout preferred and so he started to tell Dubbn the best spots. Dubbn immediately cut him short, “ Bill, I don’t mean to be rude, but lets see if I can read the water myself, its as much fun as catching, ain’t it ? “. And so with the ground rules set they started fishing, Bill half heartedly as he was more focused on his companion.
Dubbn waded across and up through some nice looking water ignoring it completely, this took Bill completely by surprise. Ahead was a small run no more than two foot wide, flanked on his side by some weed and on the other by some really fast water. Angling himself at about 50 degrees to the stream he commenced casting, dropping the dry just of the edge of the weed and the pupa out and into the stream. This was tricky stuff, get the cast wrong and any chance of fish is gone. After the first cast Dubbn realigned his angle to about 40 degrees and set to work again. After a few casts he tightened into a solid trout that tested his leader as brute force was necessary to hold it out from the weed. Well done shouted Bill as Dubbn held up a well spotted trout of about
18”. Both anglers fished on up the riffle taking many trout and when they met at the top. Bill offered his hand , “Well done Dubbn, you read that water like a book”.
Sitting down to rest for a few moments , Dubbn looked at Bill with a big cheesy grin on his face. “Bill, I need to confess something, but you have to swear not to tell the others, at least not until I say its okay”. “ Agreed”, said Bill.
You reckon you have been fishing this river for ten or so year’s, well my new friend , I fished it at least four times a week for nearly twelve seasons and would have stopped only a few seasons before you started, corcumstances forced me to move elsewhwere. I know this river like the back of my hand, no better than the back of my hand. Reaching into his wading jacket he withdrew a little plastic bag, it contained a small whiskey flask and a photo. Handing Bill the photo , he uncorked the flask, poured a small drop into the river, took a sip and handed it to Bill. In the photo was a much younger Dubbn holding a very large trout. “ 34 inches he explained, an epic battle of wits that took four weeks before success finally came”. Bill sipped from the flask, unable to reach for the right words and could only say “WOW”.
Dubbn laughed, “ that whiskey was a 25 year old malt when I put it in the flask, and its been there all these years just waiting for this day.” A solitary tear rolled down Dubbns cheek, he turned to Bill and thanked him for helping make an old anglers dream come true.
Old, old laughed Bill loudly, " your'e only a pup".
TBC
Re: Where are the tout !!!!!
Nice touch!
Some of the same morons who throw their trash around in National parks also vote. That alone would explain the state of American politics. ~ John Gierach, "Still Life with Brook Trout"
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willowhead
- Posts: 4465
- Joined: Fri Oct 29, 2010 3:35 pm
- Location: Roscoe, N.Y./Lakeview, Arkansas
- Contact:
Re: Where are the tout !!!!!
WOW.............., btw.....that was actualy Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.....on a sojurn to visit a couple local school teachers. They was just waitin' for school to get out. 
Learn to see with your ears and hear with your eyes
CAUSE, it don't mean a thing, if it aint got that swing.....
http://www.pureartflytying.ning.com
CAUSE, it don't mean a thing, if it aint got that swing.....
http://www.pureartflytying.ning.com
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hankaye
- Posts: 6582
- Joined: Tue Jun 08, 2010 4:59 pm
- Location: Arrey, N.M. aka 32°52'37.63"N, 107°18'54.18"W
Re: Where are the tout !!!!!
Otter, Howdy;
nicccccccccce...
hank
nicccccccccce...
hank
Striving for a less complicated life since 1949...
"Every day I beat my own previous record for number
of consecutive days I've stayed alive." George Carlin
"Every day I beat my own previous record for number
of consecutive days I've stayed alive." George Carlin
Re: Where are the tout !!!!!
As they made their way downstream William teased Hank and Dougsden on their earlier performances. You probably won’t believe me but that little stream does at times hold some nice trout, its just a little low at the moment. Another six inches of water and it can be very enjoyable to fish, I sometimes walk down as far as I can and wade up without leaving the water. It can be a welcome diversion after weeks of fishing the main river.
“You sure got us going Will, I was ready to start the RV and point it west, looking at that river we may stay a month”; Hank was bubbling with excitement. Dougsden, was quiet, he enjoyed the stream, and the main river looked very daunting. William noticed this and in a quiet manner tried to raise Dougsden's confidence. We will wade upstream together , Hank on the left , me in the middle and Dougsden on the right. I won’t fish and will point out the best water.
It was agreed that they would fish a team of soft hackles , work up quickly covering the water without any pressure and simply enjoy the moment, they would be plenty of time over the coming days for more technical fishing. “I’m more used of moving downstream and swinging the wets, how do I fish upstream”, said Dougsden timidly. William unhitched his cast of flies, let a few yards of fly line out of the tip and commenced casting up and across, letting the flies drift back and at the same time raising his rod tracking the flies back down. Simple as that, let the flies drift a couple of yards and cast again. “Looks easy when someone else does it “, said Dougsden.
The first ten minutes seen all sorts of calamities, tangles, Hank letting one drift get slightly below him ended up with a P&O firmly attached to his wading jacket. On a couple of occasions Dougsden’s back cast came perilously close to William. With the utmost of patience William coaxed his guests and soon both anglers were casting and fishing with a nice rhythm. As they progressed upstream William gave them a master class on reading the water, showing them where the best feeding lies were likely to be, other spots where trout are inclined to lie quite dormant but could be occasionally tempted with a deeply fished nymph. He pointed out some slacker water where on windy days the trout would cruise picking easy meals from the meniscus, this he explained was his favourite type of water as the opportunities were un-predictable but truly rewarding.
A few trout were bulging at the surface, taking pupa high up in the water column surmised William, turning to Doudsgden who at this stage was covering the water very nicely and brimming with confidence he suggested that the next trout that showed within range that Dougsden should drop the flies a yard upstream, lift the rod almost immediately drawing the flies to-wards him ever so gently and then dropping the tip and repeating once more before casting again. “Okay , Obi Wan “; said Dougsden, “ I will give it a try”.
The team landed gently and as instructed Dougsden commenced his manipulations , but a little too robustly and the flies came back downstream. William instructed Dougsden not to cast again until the trout showed and this time to do the manipulations a lot more gently. They were lucky, the trout had not been alarmed and bulged again, this time Dougsden was a lot more gentle and soon the trout bulged. “Lift , lift “; shouted William. The small trout quickly came to the net, the Woodcock and Hares Lug had done its work.
Dousgden was thrilled, his first trout fishing softies upstream. William explained that natural caddis pupa can move quite a lot in their attempts to reach the surface, often rising and falling small distances before finally emerging. This he believed to be a strong signal to the trout and often turns failure into success. William knew that if you understand the behaviour of the trout’s prey then you will be a better angler than those that don’t. “It ain’t rocket science “; said William “but it is overlooked by a lot of fly anglers”.
“You are on your own now, time to look after Bushy”; said William as he moved across the stream.
TBC
“You sure got us going Will, I was ready to start the RV and point it west, looking at that river we may stay a month”; Hank was bubbling with excitement. Dougsden, was quiet, he enjoyed the stream, and the main river looked very daunting. William noticed this and in a quiet manner tried to raise Dougsden's confidence. We will wade upstream together , Hank on the left , me in the middle and Dougsden on the right. I won’t fish and will point out the best water.
It was agreed that they would fish a team of soft hackles , work up quickly covering the water without any pressure and simply enjoy the moment, they would be plenty of time over the coming days for more technical fishing. “I’m more used of moving downstream and swinging the wets, how do I fish upstream”, said Dougsden timidly. William unhitched his cast of flies, let a few yards of fly line out of the tip and commenced casting up and across, letting the flies drift back and at the same time raising his rod tracking the flies back down. Simple as that, let the flies drift a couple of yards and cast again. “Looks easy when someone else does it “, said Dougsden.
The first ten minutes seen all sorts of calamities, tangles, Hank letting one drift get slightly below him ended up with a P&O firmly attached to his wading jacket. On a couple of occasions Dougsden’s back cast came perilously close to William. With the utmost of patience William coaxed his guests and soon both anglers were casting and fishing with a nice rhythm. As they progressed upstream William gave them a master class on reading the water, showing them where the best feeding lies were likely to be, other spots where trout are inclined to lie quite dormant but could be occasionally tempted with a deeply fished nymph. He pointed out some slacker water where on windy days the trout would cruise picking easy meals from the meniscus, this he explained was his favourite type of water as the opportunities were un-predictable but truly rewarding.
A few trout were bulging at the surface, taking pupa high up in the water column surmised William, turning to Doudsgden who at this stage was covering the water very nicely and brimming with confidence he suggested that the next trout that showed within range that Dougsden should drop the flies a yard upstream, lift the rod almost immediately drawing the flies to-wards him ever so gently and then dropping the tip and repeating once more before casting again. “Okay , Obi Wan “; said Dougsden, “ I will give it a try”.
The team landed gently and as instructed Dougsden commenced his manipulations , but a little too robustly and the flies came back downstream. William instructed Dougsden not to cast again until the trout showed and this time to do the manipulations a lot more gently. They were lucky, the trout had not been alarmed and bulged again, this time Dougsden was a lot more gentle and soon the trout bulged. “Lift , lift “; shouted William. The small trout quickly came to the net, the Woodcock and Hares Lug had done its work.
Dousgden was thrilled, his first trout fishing softies upstream. William explained that natural caddis pupa can move quite a lot in their attempts to reach the surface, often rising and falling small distances before finally emerging. This he believed to be a strong signal to the trout and often turns failure into success. William knew that if you understand the behaviour of the trout’s prey then you will be a better angler than those that don’t. “It ain’t rocket science “; said William “but it is overlooked by a lot of fly anglers”.
“You are on your own now, time to look after Bushy”; said William as he moved across the stream.
TBC
Re: Where are the tout !!!!!
Some lessons for us all in this tale ...
Some of the same morons who throw their trash around in National parks also vote. That alone would explain the state of American politics. ~ John Gierach, "Still Life with Brook Trout"
Re: Where are the tout !!!!!
“Howdy stranger , thought you had forgotten I was here “ said Hank as William approached.
“That would be difficult seeing as you been thrashing the water to a foam, all self respecting trout are hiding away in their bolt holes”; joked William.
“Guides, just ain’t as mannerly as in the good old days, them was real guides back then, would even wipe a mans arse to keep their client happy”, Hank was on a roll now , enjoying the fishing and the banter, this was the way it meant to be. “You can’t be totally useless though, I see The Front Hunter managed to catch something with fins”.
“You done okay without my help”; said William, “three tiddler’s of your own”.
Hank smirked, he was well pleased with his efforts, three to the net and one other hooked, not bad for a new kid on the block. It was great to be out with new friends though it felt he as though he knew them for years.
“Missed one there, nice fish too “; said William staring intently at where Hank had just cast. Hank look puzzled, he had not seen any indication of a take, “ I ain’t falling for that one “, he replied. “No, Seriously, a trout took, would you like a small tip “, said William. Hank eyed William looking for some sign that he was winding him up, but William looked serious so he replied “ Okay William , what am I doing wrong”.
“You ain’t doing anything wrong, but you have too much fly line out. Strip back in a few yards and see how that goes”; William offered.
Following Buffalo Bill’s advice, Hank covered where the trout was reckoned to be and seeing a slight shift in light pattern near his tippet he lifted and was rewarded with solid resistance. This was no tiddler ,a solid trout of some 14 inches, fat belly and full of vigour, this trout was in prime condition. “Howdy trout, Well I be a hot dang diddly old donkey, that sure was fun”; Hank was as Hank usually is, happy out.
See said William, “ I used to think all the old wet fly men were magicians, but its down to simple common sense, good sun glasses and good concentration. I will often fish at angles to the stream that are less than optimal for presenting the flies, preferring to use the best angle that allows me to see where my flies are drifting. No good getting takes if you cannot see the signs. Get that angle right and a few tricks in your casting will get the flies on the right track.”
“ Jeeez William you make it sound so simple, thanks pardner, whoa , frog hunter is into a whopper”
William , tied on a cast of two of Bill’s llama flymph’s and a Woodcock and Llama spider, waited till the other two were well ahead. Flicking his cast into every likely spot he quickly took trout after trout all to the Woodcock one. Nearing the top he snipped of the killing fly and placed it alongside some others in his fly patch, the rest returned to the experimental box. Not bad he thought , another hundred or so trout and Bill can claim it to be a good one, gottta tie up a few later.
Hank and Dougsden were deep in conversation when he reached them, both glowing from their success and eager to recount each trout in fine detail.
“Anyone need their arse wiped before we move on up “, asked William. He need not have bothered as his friends scrambled out of the river, eager to be first to the next pool. " C'mon junior shouted"; Hank, " stop slowing us down"
“Sons of Bitches , he thought, “they are sure gonna sleep well tonight”
“That would be difficult seeing as you been thrashing the water to a foam, all self respecting trout are hiding away in their bolt holes”; joked William.
“Guides, just ain’t as mannerly as in the good old days, them was real guides back then, would even wipe a mans arse to keep their client happy”, Hank was on a roll now , enjoying the fishing and the banter, this was the way it meant to be. “You can’t be totally useless though, I see The Front Hunter managed to catch something with fins”.
“You done okay without my help”; said William, “three tiddler’s of your own”.
Hank smirked, he was well pleased with his efforts, three to the net and one other hooked, not bad for a new kid on the block. It was great to be out with new friends though it felt he as though he knew them for years.
“Missed one there, nice fish too “; said William staring intently at where Hank had just cast. Hank look puzzled, he had not seen any indication of a take, “ I ain’t falling for that one “, he replied. “No, Seriously, a trout took, would you like a small tip “, said William. Hank eyed William looking for some sign that he was winding him up, but William looked serious so he replied “ Okay William , what am I doing wrong”.
“You ain’t doing anything wrong, but you have too much fly line out. Strip back in a few yards and see how that goes”; William offered.
Following Buffalo Bill’s advice, Hank covered where the trout was reckoned to be and seeing a slight shift in light pattern near his tippet he lifted and was rewarded with solid resistance. This was no tiddler ,a solid trout of some 14 inches, fat belly and full of vigour, this trout was in prime condition. “Howdy trout, Well I be a hot dang diddly old donkey, that sure was fun”; Hank was as Hank usually is, happy out.
See said William, “ I used to think all the old wet fly men were magicians, but its down to simple common sense, good sun glasses and good concentration. I will often fish at angles to the stream that are less than optimal for presenting the flies, preferring to use the best angle that allows me to see where my flies are drifting. No good getting takes if you cannot see the signs. Get that angle right and a few tricks in your casting will get the flies on the right track.”
“ Jeeez William you make it sound so simple, thanks pardner, whoa , frog hunter is into a whopper”
William , tied on a cast of two of Bill’s llama flymph’s and a Woodcock and Llama spider, waited till the other two were well ahead. Flicking his cast into every likely spot he quickly took trout after trout all to the Woodcock one. Nearing the top he snipped of the killing fly and placed it alongside some others in his fly patch, the rest returned to the experimental box. Not bad he thought , another hundred or so trout and Bill can claim it to be a good one, gottta tie up a few later.
Hank and Dougsden were deep in conversation when he reached them, both glowing from their success and eager to recount each trout in fine detail.
“Anyone need their arse wiped before we move on up “, asked William. He need not have bothered as his friends scrambled out of the river, eager to be first to the next pool. " C'mon junior shouted"; Hank, " stop slowing us down"
“Sons of Bitches , he thought, “they are sure gonna sleep well tonight”