The flows ran well over 6,000 cfs after last weekend’s warm storm, and while they’re down below 3,000 cfs, we’ve still got a lot of low-altitude snow just itching to melt.

Morning hoarfrost on my porch railing

When the low-level snow melts — the majority of the flows enter the river via the tributaries — you can still find decent fishing by running way upriver, or by searching out those few fishable-at-high-flows nooks even friends don’t tell each other about.

Later in the year — as the higher altitude snow starts to melt and Lake Siskiyou begins to spill over the dam — the real runoff event begins, and because that’s flowing from the top of the river, your fly fishing options are deeply reduced.

The difference between the two runoff events isn’t always clear, though I recall the big runoff event always seemed to start two days before the season opened in late April.

That may not be strictly factual, but I am willing to say it always seemed that way.

Life was hard in the old days.

The Dunsmuir Visit

I got a good look at the river while I was in Dunsmuir working on the Trout Underground’s Ancestral Home (back on the market, kids). Frankly, it looked high, but in pretty good shape.

Because I’d rather be casting a bamboo fly rod than working, I also stopped by Chris Raine’s rod shop where — with his hip issues largely behind him — he’s got a dozen bamboo fly rod blanks in the works.

One of those rods was his prototype 8.5′ hollowbuilt quad, derived from one of his best-selling tapers — his 8′ 5wt Upper Sac Special.

I wasn’t expecting much; the Upper Sac Special is a hex (a six sided rod), and his new 8.5′ is a quad, and the hex/quad and 8′-8.5′ conversions are hardly straightforward.

Still, the prototype was pretty damned close. I think the 8.5′ prototype was best as a 6wt and maybe the upper half could go a hair thinner, but most astonishing was the lack of weight in the hand.

You don’t buy hollowbuilt bamboo rods because they’re lighter (they usually are, but it’s about the casting action), but the prototype was very, very light in the hand, especially for a rod that threw a DT6 a good 65 feet without any histrionics.

The fly line just kept unrolling, and the only real barrier to this being the cosmic 8.5′ 6wt was the close-up casting. I think he’ll get it right.

No, the taper’s not quite ready for prime time, but the next one will be, and my mission at that point will be to distract Raine (”look, over there — away from this just finished rod“) and steal the thing.

It’s not foolproof, but it’s a plan. Man’s got to have a plan.

My other plan is to get the hell out of the house and do something later this week. I don’t know if it will involve trout or skis (or both), but you’ll likely hear about it here.

See you on the river, Tom Chandler.

Technorati Tags: fly fishing,bamboo fly rod,fly rod,fishing,upper sac,upper sacramento river

ShareThis

George was a top rod builder, and more importantly, he was a hell of a guy who ended up teaching more bamboo rod building classes than any builder alive.

A pair of George Maurer bamboo fly rods

A whole generation of contemporary rod builders owe a lot to George, and I will miss him.

One can only hope George is finally fishing with his good friend Harry Middleton on a stream where the wind blows small, and the trout run big.

Godspeed, George. I’ll tip one to you next time I’m on the river.

ShareThis

His hollowbuilt quads are exceptional casters, and in fact, his tournament series hollowbuilts have placed and won the accuracy division of several casting contests, shaming high-tech graphite in the process.

Despite his CEO-only prices, his waiting list has extended to so many years that he’s no longer taking orders for new rods. From his Web site:

Please note that as of October 2007 I am no longer accepting new rod orders. As of this writing (late October, 2007), I will no longer be accepting new rod orders. It is still my intent to fulfill the orders that are already on my list; I will contact you as in the past and confirm the order and current price before starting work.

In looking at the number of orders I have in my book, my limited output each year and my age, I decided it is not ethical for me to take on orders that I can’t realistically expect to fill.

That, my Underground friends, is a good example of demand outstripping supply to the tune of many, many years. I’ve even heard hollowbuilt bamboo fly rod builder Jim Reams — whose waiting list has exploded into the multi-year range — muttering about not accepting any new orders, which paradoxically increases demand even more.

Think bamboo fly rods are dead and buried? Not by a long shot…

See you in line, Tom Chandler.

ShareThis

James Beasley is gaining a national reputation for his wonderful bamboo fly rods, which he builds in the heart of Tennessee. (Originally written for the apparently defunct Art of Angling Magazine [who didn’t return my slides], this is Part Two in a two-part series)

 
James Beasley, pre-embargo cane, and notebooks from the Uslan Rod Company.

For some bamboo fly rod builders, unmet demand for their rods would be a good thing, but for James Beasley — who professed that building the same rod over and over was “very tedious” — it’s something of a curse.

Beasley – a bamboo fly rod builder in the classic mold — prefers to experiment with classic tapers, subtly altering them, preserving the best qualities of the original taper yet creating a rod better suited to modern fishermen.

I previously mentioned his much-in-demand Perfectionist and Midge tapers, but another example is his Leonard 50 DF Tournament taper — a butter-smooth, full-working 8′ 5wt with a bit more reserve power than the original.

It’s Beasley’s personal favorite rod — so loved by his customers that he rarely had one available for his own use.

As soon as he’d build a 50DF for himself, a customer would arrive, cast the thing, and beg him for the rod. Beasley would relent, sell it, and once again find himself fishing the experiments that didn’t work — until he’d get another 50DF built, when the cycle would begin anew.

Eventually, he took the extreme step of wrapping his personal 50DF in what he described as “a truly horrible thread color – just awful stuff,” and while the resulting “ugly rod” enchanted visitors with its action, the wraps “encouraged” enthusiastic buyers to wait for him to build a less-cosmetically challenged version.

If it’s one thing I like about rod builders, it’s that they’re resourceful.

Favorite Tapers

His other top sellers include a highly castable, medium-action version of the legendary Dickerson 8013, an unusual 7.5′ 6wt five-sided rod, and a handful of short Payne tapers designed to fish the nearby Tennessee and North Carolina Brookie streams.

Despite their lack of commercial appeal, he’s also dabbled in a handful of longer, more-powerful tapers. One is an 8.5′ 5wt – adapted beautifully from an original Orvis taper from the wonderful just-postwar 3-pc taper – which might just be one of the finest big water rods currently built.

The other is a strong 8.5′ 7wt based on a Payne Canadian Canoe taper. It’s a rod with enough backbone to handle summer-run steelhead yet still fishes beautifully for trout (I know because I own one), but because the bamboo rod market lies squarely with short, light rods, neither rod is likely to generate much in the way of sales.

The Beasley Canoe rod — a rare “blond” Beasley rod glued with resorcinol. (See the purple glue lines?)

When asked why he’d bother to adapt and refine tapers with little commercial appeal, his answer is simple: “I just like it. The first time I build a new taper, it seems like it doesn’t take any time at all. After that, it can get a little tedious.”

The Uslan Fly Rod Connection

Beasley’s rod shop is nestled in the woods behind his house, and it’s filled with a lot of carefully tended, well-used machines. Surveying them, Beasley jokes that “Many of the tools in my shop are antiques – just like me.”

One machine stands out from all the others; a wicked-looking assemblage that runs the length of the shop. It’s a rod-making mill from the old Uslan Rod Company, which produced bamboo fly rods in the 40s and 50s.

Uslan gained notoriety for their five-sided (pentagonal) bamboo rods, but like most high-volume bamboo companies, the Uslan Rod Company didn’t survive the advent of fiberglass rods or the cane embargo, and the mill, leftover cane and other equipment eventually found its way to Florida, where Beasley purchased it.

“It’s taken me two years to get the mill figured out” said Beasley, standing next to the huge machine and tapping it with his finger as he spoke. “It came without any instructions, so I had to discover what everything did – and what needed fixing.”

Beasley and the business end of the Uslan Rod Mill — which took two years to refurbish.

Beasley’s plan is clear; use the big commercial mill to reduce the amount of time-consuming hand-planing to just a few final passes on each strip. This preserves the hand-planed quality of his rods, but speeds production, freeing up time to experiment with new tapers.

It’s tempting to make a crack about Beasley being a mad rod scientist trapped in the body of a production rod builder, but the truth – minus the bad humor – is probably in the neighborhood of that statement.

In a bamboo fly rod market where even builders with little experience sometimes charge in excess of $1500, I wondered aloud why he doesn’t simply hike prices beyond his bargain $995 level, reduce production, and play more. After all, he’s retired, and rod building isn’t what keeps the groceries in the fridge.

To that suggestion, Beasley has a typically dry, self-effacing answer, wrapped in a big grin.

“I guess when you’re lovable but humble, you’ll never charge enough for your rods.”

(Read Part I here)

ShareThis

Bamboo fly rod builder James Beasley in his Crossville, TN workshop.

I first spoke to James Beasley more than 11 years ago, and his slow southern drawl and obvious love for bamboo fly rods compelled me order a bamboo fly rod from him at the end of the call. I’d heard glowing reports from Southeastern fly fishers about his interpretation of Paul Young’s highly regarded Perfectionist taper, and as I discovered when the rod was delivered only months later, the rave reviews were well founded.

By tinkering with the famous Young taper, Beasley created a rod that was slightly lighter and quicker than the original — one that was ideal for the small flies and delicate presentations which have recently come into vogue.

Despite its delicacy, the rod still had enough authority to throw long casts.

If the taper was wonderful, the rod itself was sublime. Darkly flamed and cleanly wrapped with a fiery brown, “golden butterscotch” thread, it impressed even at a distance. Up close, the cane work was clean and elegant. In all respects, it was a quality rod and an exceptional fishing tool.

Ten years later, Beasley has become widely known as a builder with a unique feel for Paul Young’s widely loved tapers, and orders for his Young interpretations now pour in. For many builders, this is the rodbuilder’s dream scenario; demand beyond the ability to meet it.

So why does Beasley see this success as both a blessing and a curse?

Beasley’s Background

A retired Methodist Minister who lives in the small town of Crossville, TN (near Nashville), James Beasley’s introduction to rod building came courtesy of cabin fever; in 1974, a long, cold winter drove him to the house of a friend where he learned to hand-plane bamboo rods.

By his own admission, his first rods were heavy and crude, but he learned from his mistakes.

“There aren’t a lot of builders around here to talk to, so I had to make all the beginner’s mistakes. I’ve got disasters hanging all around my shop,” he adds, revealing a dry, understated sense of humor that doesn’t emerge until you know him a little better.

The fact that largely trout-less rural Tennessee is far from bamboo rod building’s spiritual home in New England might have slowed Beasley’s progress, but by the early 90’s, he had become an established regional builder and developed a reputation for crafting quality rods.

The Walt Carpenter Connection

It was then Beasley met Walt Carpenter, a famous New England craftsman whose roots are deeply sunk into the history and tradition of bamboo rod building. Beasley spent a week in Carpenter’s shop, learning to build rods in the classic tradition, something that heavily influences his work today.

An 8.5 5wt Beasley bamboo rod — one of the best 8.5′ rods I’ve cast.

“I learned a lot from Walt,” he said. “What he taught me made a big difference in my rods.”

His ongoing friendship with Carpenter would prove useful when he built his first Perfectionist in the mid-90’s. “It was a very strong rod, a broomstick. You could cast 90 feet with the thing, but it was unpleasant to fish.” He experimented with the taper and consulted Walt Carpenter, whose feedback proved invaluable.

The resulting rod transmits every sensation to the hand, it’s quick without being overbearing, and lays out five feet of line with as much aplomb as 40. In short, it’s the seminal bamboo 7.5′ four weight, and it has fueled Beasley’s reputation as a wizard with Paul Young’s tapers.

Beasley has built dozens of Perfectionists over the last decade, and now has standing orders from a pair of top dealers for as many of the rods as he can produce. In addition, he’s being flooded with orders for his wonderfully refined Paul Young Midge taper and now the Driggs River model, and this popularity has become both a blessing and a curse.

To hand-craft a bamboo fly rod requires 30-50 hours of the builder’s time, so meeting orders for dozens of rods leaves little time for other projects. He’ll build a dozen Perfectionists this year, and when you add demand for the other PHY tapers – and the ongoing demand for his version of the 8′ 5wt Leonard 50DF – not a lot of experimenting gets done.

“I’m happy people like the rods as much as they do,” he says, “but it gets very tedious making the same rod over and over.”

“I would rather experiment with different tapers and techniques, and as demand grows, it gets harder to experiment. I like a challenge – I like to try something different.”

End of Part I. Stay Tuned for Part II

ShareThis

Once again, it’s the Trout Underground To The Rescue:

Yes, Undergrounders, you’re looking at a can of tasty, nutritious BBQ-flavored bamboo worms, which — if we read it right — you can use to catch fish and satisfy your midday hunger.

Sure, other blogs help you tie knots. The Underground helps you catch fish while maintaining your self-image.

In the end, I’m sure you know which is more important. Once again, no need to thank us. Really.

See you at lunch, Tom Chandler. (Tip of the hat to Ecowood for the lead.)

Technorati Tags: fly fishing, fishing, worms, bamboo worms, bamboo fly rod

ShareThis

I like talking to bamboo fly rod builders. They’re inveterate tinkerers, and they’ve always got something new going on in the dark recesses of their bamboo rod shops.

Of course, bamboo fly rods are seemingly simple items that can be built in endlessly complicated ways, and a strong opinion about the tiniest of details can ignite an argument among rod builders (who seem prone to strong opinions to begin with).

Still, I’m surprised by how few bamboo rod builders blog, and simultaneously gratified the idea that they’re busy exploring new ways to do old things. That’s good, but I thought I’d mention a few who are blogging here:

David Bolin

First, the Searcy Sowbug blog by David Bolin isn’t simply about building — and he’s an amateur builder instead of a fulltime pro — but you do get to see his fly rods projects from start to finish. Worth a visit.

George Maurer

Sweetwater Rods is the company of well-known rodbuilder George Maurer, who’s trained more bamboo rod builders than any other living builder. His “Rod Builder’s Notebook” is updated infrequently, but still makes for interesting reading.

Marcello Calviello

This Argentinian builder’s blog has a commercial feel to it, but it’s a business after all, and he’s certainly a fulltime builder who is trying interesting new things. He frequently posts beautiful photographs of his rods, and now lists his rod inventory in a separate “Catablog.”

Classic Bamboo Fly Rod Board

The Classic Bamboo Fly Rod Board is no blog, but it’s one of the rare message boards that doesn’t regularly erupt in squabbling. There’s a wealth of information here about bamboo fly rods — and more than a few builders commenting regularly. Like any message board — where opinions, hidden agendas and personalities collide — you need to take what you read with a grain of salt.

Still, this board’s far better than most, and loaded with helpful folks.

Technorati Tags: fly rod, bamboo fly rod, bamboo, bamboo fly rod builder

ShareThis

Yes, my readers, it’s yet another bamboo item — this one looking like something the Professor would cook up on Gilligan’s Island.

The Bamboo Buggy, complete with throne and parasol. I’d look good in one of these…

I would look so damned cool as I was chauffeured from one Upper Sacramento access point to another in the back of this (I especially like the bamboo parasol thing, though one wonders how that would fare at freeway speeds).

Imagine the looks from the bamboo-deprived anglers as I pull up for the evening hatch; they’d stare at my car and my bamboo uber-fly rods, then look at the sad graphite sticks in their hands, and know they’d already been bested.

At least that’s how it would happen in my rich fantasy life. Lord knows that could come true at any time. See you at the bamboo ranch, Tom Chandler.

Technorati Tags: fly fishing, fishing, bamboo fly rod, flyfishmagazine

ShareThis

Lately, I’ve had the urge to take bamboo rod pics. I don’t know why.

That’s how I found myself hiking along the river, an 8′ 5wt Phillipson Peerless clutched in my hand.

Chris Raine said he’d been fishing the Pink Albert hatch — a #14/#16 mayfly with a bright pink body.

It’s been a staple hatch on the river, though the bug doesn’t enjoy much notoriety.

It’s probably just old age creeping up on me, but the hatch seems to come a little earlier each year, and while I’ve never seen a blizzard hatch, the trout tend to get on the dry in a pretty serious way.

A simple, quill body Catskill dry with mangled tails. It’s all you need.

Several years ago I fished the same Dave Roberts-tied Pink Cahill (melon quill bodied Catskill style) for a week straight (yes, I was single and less busy), and never once felt the need to go to an emerger, cripple or floating nymph.

I still have that fly somewhere, and figure I landed better than 600 inches of trout on the thing (score one for quality construction).

I didn’t get anywhere that number tonight, but I did congratulate myself for running out on my adult responsibilities.

My first pair of fish were typical Upper Sacramento trout — 10″-12″ fish with exceptional color. The second fish was wildly colored enough that I took his picture despite the unremarkable size.

Check out the color. He wasn’t big, but he was the Liberace of trout.

Another small fish ate the dry, and I figured I could walk back to the truck right then and there and call the evening a success.

I didn’t of course; fly fishers mix hope and greed and equal quantities, and besides, there were still plenty of Pink Alberts in the air.

I wandered up to a good-but-tough spot; a fish was rising steadily under a roof of overhanging branches, and an extra current tongue reduced the drift to an exercise in trigonometry.

And yes, it’s fashionable to play up the difficulty, but to do so in a humble, “I do this all the time” way, but in truth, it took a good cast and a little luck.

The fish ate the bug, I lifted sideways (to keep the line from fouling in the branches), and I was attached to what would later tape out as a 16″ rainbow. Hot damn.

An Upper Sacramento 16″ football. This one I worked for.

Another small fish ate my Pink Albert dry (a new one — I lost my first one in a tree), and as it got darker, I walked back to the truck, then past it.

I tried a nice dry fly run 200 feet from the parking lot. There I caught another 10″ fish, and then got truly lucky.

If my first big fish was the product of a lot of work and a little luck, the last was purely a gift.

Two small fish were working right in a current tongue. I cast and the fly disappeared — presumably into the mouth of a small trout.

Wrong.

I lifted the rod, and the fish started running like he’d stolen something. My old Orvis CFO did its dentist drill imitation, and suddenly — surprisingly — I was into the backing.

I’d love to indulge in a little “outdoor journalism” — you know, describe the fight in heroic terms, my pecs rippling, hair flying in the wind, hand-to-fin combat, the monster trout saying “well done, you bested me” from the confines of my net.

But I was fishing 4x, Bill Phillipson’s 8′ taper was plenty strong, it was a big, slow-moving pool, and the only real danger was that the rippling pecs holding the rod would do something stupid.

They didn’t, I landed the fish, got a bad picture in the net, then measured him against the rod as I let him go.

Bad picture, but cool trout. Lucky trout, but only a fool ignores luck.

Nineteen inches; not the biggest fish I’ve caught on this river, but certainly one of the hottest.

Teach me to not stay home and work.

Technorati Tags: fly fishing, fishing, rainbow trout, upper sac, upper sacramento river

ShareThis

I suggest visiting the site and buying one (or more) of George’s bamboo rods (why not — industry surveys suggest you’re a largely wealthy lot, and if not, well… your kids don’t really need really college anyway).

In an earlier post, I mentioned falling in love with George’s 8′ “Trout Bum Light,” and I’ll write a full review on his 8′3″ version of the rod as soon as it arrives.

I consider it the most civilized variation of the Paul Young Para-15 I’ve ever cast, and the rod was featured in John Gierach’s essay “Lost Rod” — where the very first Trout Bum rod produced was stolen on its way to John’s house.

See you waiting for the UPS man, Tom Chandler.

Technorati Tags: fly fishing, bamboo fly rod, fly rod, george maurer, sweetwater

ShareThis

Missed the earlier installments? Click to read Part I and Part II. Otherwise, feel free to add Phillipson-related comments at the bottom.

Due to the length, you’ll have to click the “Read More” link below to read the whole thing.

Enjoy!

Bury Me With My Phillipson Bamboo Fly Rods — The Final Installment

What’s most remarkable about Phillipson’s bamboo fly rods is that – for all their fishability and bulletproof construction — they weren’t designed to empty the pocketbooks of the wealthy.

Phillipson’s rods – along with Heddons and Grangers (remember, Phillipson supervised Granger production after Goodwin Granger’s death in the early 1930s) – occupy a narrow niche in the fly rod continuum.

That niche? Production fly rods that cast and fish as well as any rod, but do so at a price that almost anyone could afford.

A varnished Power-Pakt (refinished).

A worthy goal, and his success in achieving it drives me to declare Bill Phillipson the most under-appreciated builder of the bamboo’s “Golden Age.”

And — unlike so many of the more famous Eastern builders (who died paupers) – Phillipson’s rod building company was successful, and remained so after the market switched to fiberglass rods in the early 50s.

Phillipson’s Bamboo Fly Rods

While the prices for his rods varied – his early rods ranged from $20 to $75 – his least-expensive 8.5’ rod used the same exact taper as the most-expensive 8.5′ taper.

So while his high-end models featured high-graded cane, silk wraps and (sometimes) better reel seats than the cheaper models, they all fished pretty much the same.

(more…)

ShareThis

Yes, my all-things-bamboo friends — that’s a bamboo laptop.

Brought to us courtesy Alert Underground Reader James (and the TreeHugger blog), this laptop was designed to be environmentally friendly, but here — at the blogging home of bamboo fly rods, pants, towels and clothes hangers — we know better.

Clearly, our bamboo goodies set us apart from the rest of the huddled, plastic-using masses, a distinction that – if I understand Darwin correctly — means that chicks (or hunks) will dig us more.

As a result, we’re more likely to mate successfully, thereby guaranteeing an overabundance of “insufferable snob” DNA in the gene pool.

Once again, the Trout Underground plays a significant role in improving humanity’s lot. (You’re welcome.)

See you at the keyboard, Tom Chandler.

Technorati Tags: bamboo, bamboo fly rod

ShareThis

Then came bamboo towels.

Those others blogs were so envious (bamboo envy is an ugly thing).

How could I remain atop the bamboo related universe??

Yes, bamboo lovers, that’s a bamboo clothes hanger (supporting $7 eBay bamboo pants).

Sure, people will tell you bamboo hangers are obsolete; they’re expensive, slow and heavy, and if you hang big pants on them they take a set.

That’s just the jealousy talking.

They’re gorgeous, and unlike those stiff, unyielding plastic hangers they offer a live, organic feel. There’s nothing like sliding a bamboo hanger out of its closet.

Those other guys can have their stiff, stamped-out-by-the-hundreds plastic hangers.

I only hang bamboo.

Technorati Tags: fly fishing, bamboo fly rod

ShareThis

Then that crafty bunch over at MidCurrent went and excerpted a chapter from Casting a Spell by George Black, a book about craftsmanship and its survival in the face of the industrial revolution.

I found it interest because it paralleled my thoughts about Bill Phillipson’s fly rod company, which tells a similar story about craftsmanship in the face of growing corporatism.

From MidCurrent:

George Black’s fascination with bamboo rod-craft pivots on Eustis Edwards, whose personal history speaks volumes about the survival of craftsmanship in American culture. This excerpt looks at the final disillusioning and yet productive years of Edwards’s life, and at the rods which exemplified his obsession with perfection.

Black focuses on Edwards rods, using the rods and their makers to illustrate the changes rapidly overtaking society post WWI.

I place Bill Phillipson’s rod company in a similar context; his small, individually owned company thrived for years before it was bought in 1972 by a large corporation which–immediately and somewhat inexplicably–folded the company.

His bamboo trade–like most others–had foundered with the appearance of fiberglass and the bamboo embargo of the cold war years, but unlike so many other production companies, he was innovating and building what were probably the best fiberglass rods available.

I’m sure there’s an answer to be found at the bottom of a spreadsheet in a file cabinet somewhere, but it’s hardly possible to overlook the larger trend at work: the corporatization of business in the USA.

That’s why the George Black excerpt at MidCurrent dovetails so nicely with the post I was already writing in my head.

I love it when the Universe writes my lead for me.

What’s Desirable in Bamboo?

In the weird, overlapping hierarchy that defines “desirability” in modern bamboo fly rod collecting, it’s possible that the Edwards rods were among the best, least-appreciated models–at least until Black’s book was released.

Longtime bamboo rod collectors will be reminded of the release of Michael Sinclair’s “Heddon: The Rod With The Fighting Heart” book.

It had an immediate (and galvanizing) effect on the price of used Heddon rods, which–until the book’s release–crowded the used rod lists at relatively low prices.

Still, the Edwards rods were never as plentiful as the Heddons, and I know I ignored the Edwards creations simply because there weren’t enough of them available to interest me.

Yet, equally true is the fact that the rods I owned and fished weren’t really considered desirable among the majority of collectors.

If I could have afforded it, I might have made an exception for the fishable, consistently excellent Paynes, but the Garrisons, Gillums and others were too rare (and expensive) to even contemplate buying, and the time I spent with their tapers (as represented by modern builders) was underwhelming.

In my case at least, the need to “collect” simply didn’t exist, at least not in the sense that I was looking to assemble (or could afford) a quiver of rods whose makers and tapers would impress when casually dropped in bamboo-savvy company.

Bill Phillipson & His Fly Rods

When I first grew interested in older bamboo rods, I focused on the Western rods, and soon fixated on Bill Phillipson’s creations.

Phillipson was foreman of the Granger shop starting in the mid 1930s and owner the “Phillipson Rod Company” until the early 70s.

It’s likely my interest was fostered by what I learned about Phillipson himself; a sometimes gruff man, he valued function over form, and his goal was to build rods that cast and fished as well as the most expensive models, yet at a price anyone could afford.

It’s likely that tapped into the populist vein that runs through me, and clearly, Phillipson was no huckster.

He was, in fact, an expert caster and a fine fisherman, who right up until his death could be found fishing Colorado’s waters, including the South Platte.

John Gierach cops to sometimes fishing an 8.5′ Phillipson on the South Platte not just because he sometimes ran into Bill Phillipson there, but because the rod’s perfectly suited to fishing that river.

Fishing Rods, Not Toys.

If day-to-day fishability defined collectability, the Phillipsons would occupy a place on the food chain far above many more expensive rods, perhaps only one rung below the vaunted Paynes and one above the currently hot Grangers (most of which were also Bill Phillipson’s children).

Still, though I own an even dozen Phillipson rods, I never became what you’d call a “collector,” and because I like talking to rod builders, I’m wholly interested in what today’s bamboo rod craftsmen are doing in the now century-old bamboo rod trade.

Still, after years of use, a couple of my favorite Phillipsons require some ferrule work, so I need to ship them to a rod repairer (the true downside of bamboo rods).

I fish a couple of the rods often, and wonder if that means I value them so much as fishing tools that I overlook the fact that another Phillipson will never be made.

In fact, the rods fish so well, I could–in a fit of Thoreau-esque simplification–surplus all my other cane and end up a perfectly happy camper (for most trout situations anyway).

Still, let’s face it; I’m not going to do it.

What I am going to do is split this post over a couple days. So tomorrow, more on Phillipson fly rods–the models I actually like to fish.

Click to read Part II of “Bury Me With My Phillipsons.” 

See you at the rod closet, Tom Chandler.

Technorati Tags: bamboo, bamboo fly rods, phillipson, phillipson bamboo fly rods, phillipson fly rods, payne, george black, edwards bamboo fly rods, fly fishing, fly rod

ShareThis

The Reams 8.5′ 5wt, 3-pc Hollowbuilt (Prototype). Pretty rod. So-so picture.

That might have been true as little as a year ago, but the Internet holds no secrets for long. Simply put, Reams has been discovered, and discovered fast.

He’s been flooded with orders for his elegant hollowbuilt bamboo rods since his Web site “went public” in early 2006, and his name is often spoken on the bamboo-related boards.

Then there’s the ultimate arbiter of fame in the digital age: Google. Type “Jim Reams” and the rod builder’s name pops up atop the list (ahead of a prosecutor and a bluegrass musician).

Interestingly, I’ve very quickly found myself at that point where I can shake my head and say “I knew Jimmy before he was famous” - and sound only slightly moronic doing so.

Enough. What About the Rod?

A couple weeks ago, the postman (my new best friend) left a package on my front porch, and what I found inside was an 8.5′ 5wt hollowbuilt Reams.

Not one of his listed tapers, it was a 3-pc prototype that could soon find its way into his catalog.

First, the obvious stuff. Jimmy’s cane work is excellent (no flaws found). The rod’s nodes are short and tight, with little evidence of grinding.

The blank itself is straight as an arrow, and the ferrule fit is smooth.

Reams varnishes his blank, then wraps and varnishes the wraps.

And while I can’t see it, I’ve seen other examples of Jimmy’s painstaking hollow building work. Good stuff.

In short, there are no shortcuts evident in this rod.

Never having been one for overthick varnish, I appreciate Jimmy’s smoothly finished blanks and separately varnished wraps.

The blank is a dark caramel color with reddish undertones, the wraps are a lovely dark brown, and the ferrules are darkly blued.

The overall effect is one of an understated elegance and functionality, and that’s no accident.

Reams builds his rods to fish, and one look at the fast-ramping full wells grip (similar to the Powell style) reinforces this belief.

It’s a fisherman’s grip.

The reel seat is an uplocking slide band over a wood spacer. I’m curious to see how this seat holds up over the years, but must say the appearance is striking.

Hollow Built Performance

Ask any accomplished builder why they hollow build, and most will tell you it’s not a weight issue, but one of performance.

Removing the pithy center portion eliminates non-contributing mass, speeding dampening and improving performance.

Simply put, you don’t buy a hollowbuilt with the expectation you’ll find a lightweight in the tube. You do it for the performance.

With this in mind, my Reams hollowbuilt was a revelation; it’s easily the lightest 8.5′ bamboo rod I own, and feels lighter in the hand than my 8′ solid builts.

A quick trip to my cheap digital kitchen scale revealed a rod weighing between 4.20 and 4.25 ounces. That’s light for an 8.5′ bamboo fly rod, but not astoundingly so.

Simple, functional and extremely fishable.

Of course, nobody stands around simply holding a bamboo fly rod. You’d look dorky.

You’ve gotta cast the thing to attract the babes. And this is where Jimmy’s rods shine.

Cast and Cast Again

Some rod builders are talented craftsmen, and some are talented fly fishers. Reams is both, and during the season, you’ll find him fishing some of Northern California’s toughest waters 5-6 evenings a week.

Watch for any length of time and you’ll see he’s a stone cold killer on slow, technical water, and his rods reflect that sensibility.

Reams is a hunter and a damned accurate caster; he sneaks closer to fish than anyone has a right to, and then drops the fly right on their noses.

When I first cast the rod, I discovered it was exactly the rod you’d expect someone like Reams to build.

Smooth and light, the rod fished beautifully at close range, and a smooth stroke found it working comfortably to 50′.

I fished it at ranges greater than 50′ during a Rogue BWO hatch, and while the rod held up fine (Dave Roberts certainly had no trouble casting it farther), I’d suggest its forte was in the sub-60′ distances.

Still, it was when I hooked a fish that I discovered the rod’s most interesting characteristic; I felt the trout’s every move. Wow.

This rod would protect even the lightest tippets superbly - on a par with my 8.5′ 4wt Diamondglass fiberglass (the reigning champion).

Tiny flies? Light tippet? Spooky trout? No problem.

Wind? Ultra-long casts? Fast-moving water and big fish?

This rod would handle it, but I’d suggest a faster, stronger taper for the above conditions.

Every fly rod is an compromise, and this one’s biased towards more technical fishing.

And whaddya know. I love technical fishing. I expect it’ll be a superb pocket water rod too – it casts at close range like it knows where the fish are hiding.

The Final Cast

Outside of galactic casts and gale-force winds, this rod’s is a stunner.

Under less windy (read normal) conditions, the rod rewards a smooth caster with exceptional control and a silky, wholly cultured feel.

Light and resilient in the hand, Reams’ aggressive hollowbuilding techniques and extremely refined tapers play right to the strengths of bamboo as a rod building material.

The Trout Underground gives it two fins up.

Technorati Tags: bamboo fly rod, bamboo rod, jim reams, hollowbuilt, fly rod, cane rod, split cane, split cane fly rod

ShareThis