| The
all about fly fishing rant page
This London, Ontario-based fly-fishing rant page is a spillover
from the "Ask Ian" section on my website. Some folk out there have
been using the "Ask Ian" pages as a form of therapy, turning the
basic question-and-answer format into long, drawn out rants. Rather
than shut them down, I have decided to build a web page where I
can post some of these rants. The key to these rants is that they
must be clean (I have a lot of kids who hit my site) and they must
make me laugh when I read them.
Now, if you feel up to blowing off a little steam
and sending in a rant, keep it clean, make sure you have something
to say and, above all, express yourself in a way that is understandable
and coherent. Well, semi-coherent will do in a pinch. Also, make
sure it's your rant (i.e., an original thought or, God forbid, two
thoughts) and that it's not stolen from another website, or even
another fly fisherman.
The flower
As for the flower ... judging by the content of the majority of
the rants I receive most of you need to; relax, find your happy
place, lower your blood pressure, light a few scented candles, put
on a Kenny G CD or tune into the Woman's Network on TV. Just kidding.
At the end of the day, fly fishing is a sport so relax will you.
However, if you do happen to find some lilly pads, why not chuck
a small frog pattern near them ... just in case there is a Smallmouth
Bass in there.
Guaranteed anonymity
I will post your rant under a pen name, if you wish, but I will
need your full name and address so that I can verify who you are
before I post your rant, and so that I know where to send your flies.
I want to make sure that you are in fact Frosty the Snowman, before
I post your rant. Don't worry, you are covered under my Privacy
Statement and I will never reveal who you are. Not unless it's
through a court order and the cop delivering the papers is a cutie,
can roll cast a full 5-weight flyline, and she happens to own the
fishing rights to some prime Atlantic salmon fishing on the River
Spey or the River Dee and who's father owns a single-malt whiskey
distillery deep in the Highlands of Scotland. Then my friend, you
are simply out of luck.
Your
reward
If I post your rant on this page, I will send you a dozen flies
and I will even pay the shipping at this end. How's that for a deal?
Here's
how to send in a rant
Dead simple.
1. Compose and compile your thoughts.
2. Slap them into an E-mail.
3. Send them to me using this link.
I
am going to E-mail Ian my rant
Here are the rants
Hi Ian,
Here's my rant. Why does fly fishing draw such an elitest group?
When you go into the fly section of ------- for example if you bring
your Armani suit and your platinum card you get free valet parking
for your BMW suv? If you're wearing work boots and a baseball cap,
they won't even notice you're there. What's with the snub nose attitude
that follows this sport around? Doesn't the rain fill up your nasal
cavity in that position? Isn't the backbone of this sport still
the average guy driving a pickup truck? Also why does fly gear cost
so much to begin with? It seems to me a that a fly reel is the simplest
piece of fishing equipment ever made. Why does a rod and reel cost
as much as a television? Are the stores/manufacturers are treating
the recent boom in popularity of this sport as a huge cash cow?
It sure appears that way. I guess as long as people pay the inflated
prices they'll continue to charge them. It's time to bring this
sport back to average sportsman and lose the snob attitude and huge
price tags on the way.
Ken from Brampton
(Kens wins a mixed bag of steelhead flies.)
Let is snow
Ian, there can be little doubt that: (1) God has a sense of humor
and (2) he hates fly fishermen. In the depths of winter I tied flies.
Lots of flies. Lots of steelhead flies and I must say I was well
stocked up for the season. No worries there. However, each time
I try to head out, it snows. I mean it snows. last time I was up
in Goderich it snowed so badly that I had to stay over for the night,
which I must say, was difficult to explain to my darling wife. Then
if I show up back at the house with flowers, she will think that
I am up to something. I just can't win. No, someone has to have
a chat with this God chap. I mean a heart to heart talk. Not one
of those chats you have when you are stuck in church, I mean, get
him to beam someone up to heaven, and sit the man down and say to
him, "Hey, about the snow ..." There I feel better. I
have vented. Off to shovel the driveway.
Snow-Boy, Toronto, Ont.
(Snow-Boy wins 12 Ian's Brass Ass Buzzers. May I suggest holding
off on the shoveling, as it will all melt by June. Then again, the
Toronto City Council may call out the army to remove the snow for
you.)
Drunk
Grandmother
while searching for the 2008 winter victoria secret auditions on-line
I came across your page to immediately see that you were a 6 foot
giant Scots men. Now I don't know about others but immediately the
thought of a big lumber jack killer came to mind, and I'm gonna
be honest with you. The thought of walking down a dark, secluded
area for the day scared the hell out of me. But reading on I realized
that in fact you were just a big friendly giant and my drunk 96
year old grandma could do more damage than you. But despite all
this I think you'd be a great guy to sit down and slap some single
malt back with, that is if you don't get all emotional on me. Keep
on keeping on.
Dave, Tavistock, Ont.
(Dave wins 12 Ian's Brass Ass Buzzers.)
Size
matters?
I just wanted to comment on the Canadian Fly Fishing Championship
last summer at the Grand & Conestoga rivers. I volunteered
to be a referee or whatever they call it (the dude in the nuclear
orange shirt making sure no one cheats!) and I have to say I was
surprised at the format of the tournament. Try to catch as
many fish as possible as long as they’re small. What
is the purpose of that?! To me this seemed like a cop out.
Anyone with a good selection of flies and a modicum of skill can
catch shakers all day, but try to find that 24-30 incher that makes
your heart stop when you see the actual size of it and you will
impress me. I’m sure there is a good reason they use
this format but for the life of me I can’t figure out what
it is. Don’t you think it takes more skill to catch
the big boys than just the shakers? This is what I have found
in my limited experience ….
My buddy
caught a 31 incher last summer (I saw it and we measured it using
the rod and then put a tape on it when we got home) and I would
have to say that that fish did not get to be that size by being
stupid….the dudes in that tournament were highly skilled fishermen,
but even if they had hooked a monster nothing over 20 cm counted
any more than a 20 cm fish!! I haven’t been in a lot
of tournaments but I found that particular format odd. I have
to say that I’ve never been a fan of numbers fishing, I always
admire quality over quantity. And I’m not saying that
bigger fish are higher quality than smaller fish, what I mean is
that I believe it takes more skill (and subsequently the reward/satisfaction
is greater) to fool a bigger older fish into inhaling your fly than
a smaller, presumably more reckless fish.
All in
all I think the experience was a good one and the Elora/Fergus/Conestoga
area got some well deserved publicity for an otherwise well run
event. Unfortunately I was unable to make the Conservation
Symposium on the last day but I had fun on the rivers.
Steve, Guelph Ontario
(Steve picks up a dozen, size #18 caddis. Perfect for catching stockies.)
Am I asking too much?
Ian, here is my rant.
Over the past 10 years I have seen a huge decline in the quality
of wading boots. Years ago when boots were made here in the good
old USA, even a mid range boot would last for many years. Not so
anymore. My high end boots fell to bits after just one season. ONE
season. Why don't manufactures put a sticker on their boots saying
"Disposable." Sure they will replace my boots, but it's
a pain in the butt. My butt. I have to return them and then wait
until the new boots arrive in my mailbox. I am guessing that the
manufactures are making more of a margin by replacing the boots,
and having them made off shore, than they can by producing a robust
and sturdy boot here at home. I have resorted to picking up cheapo
sneakers or hiking boots and then wading in them. I can get one
full season of wading from a $10.00 pair of running shoes which
is 6 months more than I can with a set of $180 waders. Will someone
please, please, please produce a simple, sturdy, last for a few
years wading boot. I don't need the latest and the greatest gadgets
on my boots. I want a set of laces which won't rot out after 6 months
and a boot which won't dump me on my butt when I step on algae covered
rocks. Is it too much to ask? Am I being unreasonable? Then again,
why would you want those qualities in a wading boot? Don't they
know that wading boots actually get wet and that cotton based laces
will rot. If we can put a man on the moon, why the heck can't someone
invent a glue that actual sticks a felt sole to a boot. Unbelievable.
Bummed Out in Texas
(Bummed Out recieved one dozen Alex Midge flies.)
PS: Don't start with the man on the moon
debate!
Overwhelemed
Ahoy from the West (Idaho).
I have been fly fishing for 3 years and each year it gets harder
to enjoy the sport I LOVE. This has been building up in my blood
for a little under a year now and even if Ian is the only one who
ever reads this it's fine with me.
Why do I feel so overwhelmed by this sport I love
so much? It seems that every article in every fly fishing magazine
I read tells me what's wrong with the environment that week, or
who's to blame for cow sewage being dumped in a stream in Scotland.
Or better yet why bait fisherman are a breed below the prestigious
fly fisherman. My father is a bait fisherman and is the best fisherman
I know! I can't open a magazine and read a story about catching
a beautiful 12 inch Brook Trout because if it's small it's worthless
(according to the pro's) And who are the pro's anyhow? I live 40
miles from Sun Valley Idaho and I will not set foot on Silver Creek
because I feel like I have to wear an Armani suit to fish it. Sure,
you may say..."Well to heck with those people ... just go fishing."
And that's easier said than done when there is tension on the stream
to catch the biggest trout with the smallest fly. Why is there so
much pressure to be an amazing fisherman? Fly fishing takes practice
and time and I'm tired of feeling like I don't belong in the community
just because I haven't perfected nymphing or mending.
Ever noticed that the articles written in books
and magazines are directed to the 5th year (or over) fly fisherman.
No wonder we don't have kids getting into this sport. Everyone wants
the next generation to get into fly fishing but what they don't
understand is that their attention span is "ZERO." I'm in my third
year and am more overwhelmed than when I first cast a fly rod!!
Maybe I should keep my nose out of the literature being published
these days and get my butt on the stream and give the "pro" fly
fisherman in the sky the bird when I reel in that beautiful wild
Brook Trout. Pressure released.
Big Lost - Southeastern Idaho
(Big Lost receives 12 White Puke flies.)
No toad flies
Rantmaster James
Have you ever noticed that fly pattern books are full of frog patterns
but there is "an acute lack" of toad patterns out there.
Why does this bother me? Well I happen to like toads. I've never
kissed one but I do have a soft spot in my heart for them and I
have many toad houses dotted around my garden. Do they work? Yes
they do, and I figure that a girl can't have too many toads in her
garden as they eat a ton of bugs. Frankly I am sick to death of
frog flies. Deerhair frogs, foam frogs, frogs with eyes, frogs with
claws, frogs with jointed legs, frogs with spots ... come on folks,
the fish is looking up at the pattern so there is little chance
it will see the spots or the eyes on the topside of the fly. What's
next, post and pre spawn frog patterns?
I say it's time to bring the toad out of the closet
and give it its rightful place in the fly fishing world. Maybe this
rant will be the catalyst which will turn the fly fishing world
on its ear and turn it onto toads. However I am not prepared to
hold my breath on it!
Now I feel better. Thanks.
Helen in Ohio
(Helen receives 12 tadpole flies. Handy for Smallmouth Bass, Rainbows
and Carp.)
Atlantic salmon
A rant you say? I hope not to over-indulge the patience of your
readership by the opening of floodgates -- I've had to edit this
down from 10 pages. Unlike my esteemed colleague and enduring partner
of many drifts mining for chrome Kant's "first critique"
was (and continues to be) compelling. His observations regarding
the resultant "affect" of the much vaunted fly fishing
canon however, prompting a parade of dandies wishing to rub elbows
with the elan of our community and seek out that which is suitable
for mounting (except for their partners), is accurate. We frequent
a particular stream on Lake Erie and have named a holding pool there
the Paco Raban Pool after sharing some water with a "properly"
(geesh) outfitted angler who wore so much cologne that its "fallout"
wiped out all insect life on that section of the river.
I'm in exile -- in exile from my beloved steelheading
grounds -- immured up to my neck in New Brunswick rednecks (with
necessary due deference to the Ozarks mind you). This province has
a 25% illiteracy rate, the lowest standard of education, some of
the highest poverty and unemployment rates, and some of the most
egregious drug abuse in Canada. Also (a cause and effect relationship
perhaps?) angling license subscriptions are at an all time low --
fathers are not teaching their children well. I'm not Ontario-centric
(this is always the myopic counterclaim of parochial exclusionism
here) rather I'm steelhead-centric though not at the expense of
other species or other exigent conservation issues.
This IS a steelhead rant and comes by way of that
mythologized, noble fish, salar (the Atlantic Salmon). How
you ask? Again a digression.
New Brunswickers bemoan the loss of the Salmon
fishery here and seem sincerely at a loss to explain why which is
only trumped by their apathy and stupidity.
Whence salar?
- Surely it is not attributable to clear-cutting and agricultural
practices pressuring riparian zones and the silting up of rivers.
- Surely it is not the wonton abuse of "freedoms" here
i.e., rednecks and their ATV's tearing through known spawning redds.
- Indeed, the over fishing of capelin and other salmon forage (to
the point of near extinction) is the business of the DFO and the
commercial fishery is it not? Certainly it has no bearing on the
viability of salmon stocks.
(N.B. the mouth of the current trawling nets are large enough to
accommodate two rows of six 747 Boeings.)
- "Gentlemen anglers" whose rods are marked with size
indicators so as to allow the "legitimate" harvest of
legal sized salmon undoubtedly has no effect on stocks. (See the
Ministry's report on the number of grilse taken each year from New
Brunswick Rivers.)
- Of course the cost benefit analysis (read politics) prompts a
collective and amnesial hurray for the pulp and paper industry here.
Where is the effluent going? Nuff said.
- The Mactaquac Dam project on the Saint John River has effectively
destroyed one of the greatest salmon rivers in North America --
well at least we now have enough power to run the pulp and paper
mills and our microwaves and satellite dishes.
- Philip Lee (author of Home Pool) says that "for a decade
New Brunswick carried out the world's largest fish-killing experiment."
From 1952 to the early 1960's New Brunswick sprayed DDT in the hopes
of controlling spruce budworm. It was an effective strategy and
also proved effective in killing off all the trout, frogs, bees,
squirrels, birds, all aquatic insects, it eradicated salmon fingerlings
by the millions and small parr were reduced to one sixth.
None of the above is responsible for the collapsing
fishery here ...
Recently a population of steelhead has found their
way into some of the Fundy Rivers and it is their presence that
has become the single greatest threat to salmon (ironically, salmon
are no longer present in such rivers and the Salmon, Irish et al.).
And what is the response by some of our venerated fly fishing brothers
in arms? They throw steelhead up on the bank to die or are busy
scribbling e-mails to the DFO and the ASF to want them of this "invasion"
hoping they will devise yet another "brilliant" management
strategy.
Deliver me from apathy and stupidity.
HardCor Rothesay, NB
(HardCor picked up 12 Unusual Nymphs.)
Guides and flies
Dear Rant:
Why is it that no matter how many boxes of flies you take along
on a guided fishing trip, the guide insists that nothing will work
and you will have to spend at least $100 to purchase the flies he
believes are the hot ticket? This happened to me on a trip to Montana
last year.
Prior to heading out to fish the Madison River,
the guide insisted that I purchase at least a dozen flies. All morning,
you guessed it, there was not a strike, nibble or even a sly little
glace at my newly purchased flies. My blood pressure was near the
boiling point, but luckily I was able to sneak several boxes of
my flies along on the boat. I knew that at some point the guide
would have to take a "shore" break. The moment came and I quickly
changed the flies before he reappeared from the bushes. Starting
back down the river I made a careful cast - - this was not the time
to screw-up and tangle - - and bam! Fish on! A 21" Brown was brought
to the net and released. The guide looked at the flies and without
comment gave the line back to be cast again. We used my fly boxes
the remainder of the day.
Hey, I'm not perfect and welcome suggestions. But
a guide shouldn't dismiss everything you brought and may have spent
many hours tying. There is a slight ego thing here, afterall.
Signed:
Damsel Fly In Distress.
(The Damsel received 12 Arkansas Pheasant Tail Nymphs.).
Drugs
Dear Ian.
You would think that with all the technology and the brains behind
the multinational pharmaceutical drug companies, someone, someplace
would come up with a user friendly drug. Take a look at the Colombians.
Now there is a bunch of folks who have the drug system down to a
fine art, but that is not what I am ranting about.
When you pick up a prescription there is always
that little label on it, you know the one saying, "Don't take
with alcohol, take with food or the ever popular may cause drowsiness."
Where is the fun in popping those? I am thinking, why don't they
come up with a family of drugs which go well with a beer? Where
have these manufacturers been for the last 70 years or so? A beer
goes with just about anything, and what better way for someone to
remember to take their medication than to have a case of beer in
the fridge?
Hands up everyone who would be happier popping
down a painkiller if you could swig a beer, or a glass of wine for
the upper-crusty folk, with it? Be honest ... you know you would.
Look this would be a great way for doctors to get
men in to see them on a more regular basis.
"Take these three times per day before meals with a honey lager."
Doc, oh where can I sign up?
As for the drowsiness. The last thing I want to
see on a bottle of sleeping pillsI am trying to crack open is: "May
cause drowsiness."
I am not suggesting for one second that anyone
consume alcohol with any drug they are taking as that would be like
bungee jumping without tying off the rope to the bridge, but I hope
that someone in the big glass towers within the drug development
world will hear my lone voice in the wilderness. And if they need
someone to do some testing on, call me, I'll bring my bottle opener.
Amphetamine Andy.
(Andy received 12 Hare's Ear Nymphs.)
"Pure reason"
Dear Ian,
You wanted some questions? Well, here's one. What's this month between
updates crud? I thought Scottish was synonymous with industriousness?
Never mind. I'm just about sick of READING about fly fishing anyway.
Seems everyone nowadays with one semester of liberal
arts, a flyrod and some egg patterns thinks they're a freakin' novelist
or the very least Ecclesiastes. Why does everyone now who has climbed
a mountain, caught a fish, or taken a walk around the block feel
compelled by some irrepressible urge to write about it and, worse,
get it published? And I'm sorry but I've tried wading through all
that Roderick Haig-Brown crap repeatedly and I just find it capital
B boring. My flyfishing book collecting friends think I'm a heretic.
Maybe I am a little harsh, but he's no Proust.
I once had to read Kant's "Critique of Pure Reason"
and I'm still alive to tell the tale. And I gotta say that was the
Saturday morning comics compared to the unreadability of "A River
Never Sleeps" or whatever it's called. Sacrilege I know coming from
a steelhead-lovin' Canadian boy, but I gotta say there's a whole
lot of literery posing going on by those who get all enraptured
by it. I mean, come on. Come on!
Case in point: every time some magazine hack or
fly tier begins an article on salmon or steelhead he or she finds
it necessary to unload the whole history of the sport on me before
they get to the current subject at hand, which should be where the
heck the access points are and what fly to use. Invariably they
also mention one river or another as being "Haig-Brown's favourite
river" blah, blah, blah. Truth be told the Cuyahoga was Haig-Brown's
favourite river, but since the whole "catchin on fire" thing has
been brought under control it's lost much of its former allure.
If you really want to read about salmonids don't
be a woosie about it and go right to Ted Hughes, who seemed to be
the only one able to avoid all the sentimental crap and tortured
syntax and get right to the mystic beauty of it all. He was obviously
of the "you know you're onto something good when you've been fishing
and thinking about it long enough to halfway drive your poet wife
to stick her head in an oven" school of fishing writing. Roderick
and all his acolytes, killer boring. Ted Hughes, the man. End of
story.
And, since you asked. Here's a little post-industrial
Haiku thing of my own I've been working on lately. Ted, my man,
I am not that strong.
Ballistic chromium steelhead god
Envied star of Iran's missile program
Size of the bumper on Uncle Stosh's Pontiac
Absolutely freakin' hammers my fly
Shrouded by mist and mountains
But it's still only chicks that can get me ...
Which, by the way, reminds me of my own first rule
of fishing: Only fish when you could not otherwise be jumping your
partner. And its corollory: If you are fishing when you could otherwise
be jumping your partner you are clearly a loser but are too dumb
to know it. Story finished.
Personally, I'm looking for that one transformative
elegiac essay on carp that makes me want to give it all up, jumping
my partner included, and pursue them fulltime, around the world,
ultimately to the furthest outpost of their native waters.
Steely Dan, Ontario.
(Dan received 12 beadhead Pheasant Tail Nymphs.)
Salmon Flies
Dear Ian.
When I'm looking at a bunch of, say, Atlantic Salmon patterns in
a catalogue or a book on Atlantic dressings I can't help but think,"Hey
man, all these flies look basically the same."
I would like someone for instance show me the difference,
in a real Platonic Forms type of way, between, say, an Undertaker,
a Black Bear Green Butt, a Shady Lady, and a Green Butt Skunk. Or
between a Rusty Rat, a Silver Rat, or a big honkin' Caddis Dry.
Is there really much difference in the ESSENCE of these flies? I
say what a load!
Besides, I think the streamer of the times just
has to be an articulated two hook rabbit strip leech in black, purple,
pink, orange, black, or black. Either that or a small Lady Caroline
soaked in pheremone sauce from the local Bass 'N' Baite Shop and
dead drifted under a bobber. I've been just killing them on that.
Wait until you hear my stories about pink rubber worms.
Bobber Bob, On the edge . . of the Great Lakes
(Bob received 12 Nuclear Roe Bug flies. Ian)
Once again: here's how to send
in arant
Dead simple.
1. Compose and compile your thoughts.
2. Slap them into an E-mail.
3. Send them to me using this link.
I
am going to E-mail Ian my rant
|
