The old saw is that time spent fly fishing isn’t deducted from your lifespan. It’s a lie, of course.
Recently conducted studies (I wrote numbers on a piece of paper until I got one I liked) confirm that fishing extends your life 2.47 times the original fishing investment.
That means some of us should live to be 174 years old, which explains why the Social Security Administration has been secretly working with Donny Beaver to halt the growth of fly fishing among the general populace (yes you bastards, I see the black helicopters hovering over the Upper Sacramento).
It doesn’t even matter what kind of fishing you do. Some days you embrace the struggle of a 7x-only spinner fall, and others you’re looking for little more than lawn furniture and cold beer.
The battling smallmouth – still the best high school mascot name.
Yesterday was more the latter than the former, so Steve Bertrand and I rolled out to Lake Siskiyou for an afternoon and evening of pitching poppers. Ahh, the joys of smallmouth.
Also on the bill were a few bluegill — who always acquit themselves with honor despite their small size — and though we chased what appeared to be a few midge-eating trout, we only hooked one, which we didn’t land. Damn.
Of course, one of the reasons I fly fish is for the places it takes me, and one of the reasons I moved here is that even the local lake — often overrun by tourists and locals alike — is still pretty stunning.
Clouds over Lake Siskiyou.
The tourists of Memorial weekend were largely gone, so the Ospreys and eagles were back in numbers.
In fact, enough ospreys were wheeling and diving for fish that the evening became one long episode of Nature Theater; at one point an eagle fought an osprey for the osprey’s fish, taking it away from him in mid-air.
Can’t get that at the mall.
An osprey hunting for dinner at Lake Siskiyou.
A lot is written about why we fish, and what a fishing trip ultimately delivers. In this case — after a hectic week — it delivered exactly what I needed.
I love fishing lakes, and it seems that lakes are gaining a little in popularity among the fly fishing set; Steve Bertrand has already guided the McCloud Reservoir several times this year, with more on tap.
Bertrand doing his Captain thing. Chicks dig it.
I think that’s healthy; fly fishing’s widened its focus the last decade. It’s something practiced by individuals for the benefit of individuals, so loosening the piscatorial straight jacket a little bit can only be a good thing.
Hell, I’m even seeing recipes for carp online. Thanks to everyone who voted in our “where to fish” poll. Sure, I didn’t listem so much, but that’s just what you were expecting me to do.
See how it works? You expect me to zig, so I zag. See you at the polling place, Tom Chandler.
[tags]fly fishing, fishing, fishing lakes, smallmouth bass[/tags]
The only carp recipie I’ve heard of is the old joke about nailing the carp to a board, baking it for a few hours, then throwing away the fish and eating the board. Of course, we’re “fish snobs” in Louisiana, where the value of a fish is based on its table qualities. For example, mullet is popular, smoked or fried, along most of the gulf coast; in Louisiana, it is only fit for baiting crab traps. Even redfish, among some old-timers, are considered “trash fish”, compared to speckled trout or flounder. Never mind that a 6 inch redfish can outfight a 6 lb speck any day of the week and twice on Sundays.
ijsouth(Quote)
Dentry says the light-colored carp meat is to die for, but that the dark-colored stuff might kill you.
It’s interesting that some consider Redfish inedible; market fishers almost destroyed the population. Somebody was eating the things.
Tom Chandler(Quote)
Oh, people ate them all right, but on the local pecking order, they were way down the list. When you said redfish, you immediately thought of something like a courtbullion, or in a gumbo, etc…unlike a featured entree like flounder stuffed with crabmeat, or (speckled) trout almondine.
What happened was chef Paul Prudhomme, who came up with the concept of blackening to cook redfish. Next thing you know, it’s an instant nationwide craze, and the commercial types started purse-seining the crap out of the bull red population. Of course, that’s the breeding stock, so it didn’t take long to decimate the population. Now, they’re strictly game fish in Louisiana (as they should be), a 5-fish daily limit, 16 inch minimum, only 1 can be over 27 inches; they’re back better than ever now.
The ironic thing is, the whole blackening thing was not a part of either traditional Creole or Cajun cuisine; Prudhomme came up with it in the mid 80s, and all the national chains have since run with it. There’s nothing wrong with redfish, eating-wise, particularly when they’re under 20 inches. It’s just not as delicate or subtle as other fish around here.
I’ll give ya another example. Often, when fishing for specks, you end up with Spanish Mackerel. They’re very entertaining on the end of a line, and they aren’t bad eating at all…however, they are a bit on the “oily-fishy” side, and again there’s better eating fish around here, so they’re considered a nuisance.
ijsouth(Quote)