Letters to the Predator: Small Vampires

April 19, 2012 By 1 Comment

Another amusing anglingman recently wrote :

 

Roddy:

I couldn’t figure out how to upload pics, so I am sending two to you, which you may post if you like.

Mike's Small Vampire?

Both are of my brother Mike’s muskie pattern he calls a “Vampire.” I have no idea how he ties it, but it’s about the size of a chipmunk and casts just fine on a 9 or 10-weight. I have caught muskies, pike and bass on the fly but have not tried it for hawg browns. Because the thing comes alive in the water, I have to believe those old salmo piscavores ought to at least take a swiperoo at it.

The shot of the fly on the canoe seat shows my Loomis 9-wt for perspective. That’s the tail end of another of Mike’s patterns hanging from the hook keeper, called a “Rainbow Leech.”

The portrait shot was taken by my webmaster, Les Booth. This pattern and several others will soon be for sale on my website, dansmalloutdoors.com. Just look for Mike Small’s Big Flies. As Red Green says, “You can tell a lot about a man by the size of his fly!”

DanDan Small Outdoors, LLC
http://dansmalloutdoors.com
dansmalloutdoors@gmail.com
Blog: http://blogtheroad.dansmalloutdoors.com
Twitter: dsoradio
Facebook: dsoradio

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Nobody calls me Roddy except for my mother. However, I do like chipmunks, and hope that some of the foolish trout anglermen would bring me one of these Vampires. I would also imagine that some of the steelhead anglermen in Forks, WA might be interested in your brother’s Vampire pattern.

Now go back to internet school so you can learn how to upload photos.

I am Roderick Hawg-Brown, and I speak the truth.

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Buster wants a brown trout

April 13, 2012 By 8 Comments

The amusing fly anglingmen over at Buster Wants To Fish have posted an amusing photo of a sticker seen on a driftboat.

Now isn’t that cute.

 

 

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I’ve been hacked, repeatedly

April 10, 2012 By 4 Comments

A lot of you fly fishing people complain of being hacked from time to time, referring to the act in which you choose security passwords that are even simpler, perhaps, than yourselves. It’s not terribly surprising that this happens. After all, you are not very clever.

I’ve recently been hacked as well. In fact, it seems to be happening with more regularity. As an example, I’ll be resting under my cut bank waiting for a nutria or merganser to swim by, when suddenly my peace and quiet is interrupted by one or several indications that I’ve been hacked. Here are a few suggestions for you hacks:

1. Use an open loop, not a clinch knot. Not even an improved clinch knot will improve the way your fly swims. The clinch knot creates an unnatural hinge. Loop knot. Repeat.

2. False casting is for dry flies. Strip some line off your reel, use a good double haul and shoot some line. Forget the 10 and 2 rule. Throwing meat is not pretty, for crying out loud. Speaking of loud…

3. That loud snapping sound as you begin your forward cast probably means you lost your fly because you rushed your forward stroke. When you hear the telltale snap, stop. Check to see if there’s still a fly on the end of your line. If the fly is gone, do not continue fishing until it has been replaced using a loop knot. It’s annoying when the tag end of a leader drifts by my nose.

4. When fishing a weed bed, it’s a sound practice to occasionally inspect your fly to see if it’s collecting aquatic flora. Most critters in the river do not swim about dragging weed strands. Amazingly, I can tell a difference between an olive woolly bugger and a black woolly bugger dragging green weeds. If you must, use a weed guard on your fly. It may make you feel like a low-class bass fisherman, but who are you to be a snob, right?

5. Mend, but only if you need to. When you’re swinging a streamer, mend only as you need to and do so with some tact. When you yank your line off the water abruptly, imagine what that does to your fly.

6. When you go all stealthy, squinting behind your polarized sunglasses doesn’t make you disappear. I can still see you.

We cannot rid the world of hacks, but with these helpful tips perhaps the number can be reduced.

 

I am Roderick Hawg-Brown, and I speak the truth

 

 

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Letter to the Predator: T-shirts?

April 8, 2012 By 3 Comments

A week or so ago I posted an open call for Letters to the Predator. This generous offering is a chance for you amusing little fly fishing people to air your grievances, seek guidance, or make general inquiries. The first letter comes from a person named, “Bob”.  Bob writes:

Sir:
Maybe I should not have been as surprised as I find myself in light of the lack of action following your early foray into casual cotton wear. Have you retreated under some sartorial log, unwilling to put the goods out there. I am sure you will try to blame this on humans one way or another, but I suspect that you’re dealing with some inner failure-abhorent self. Fish up and follow through, I say!
Dear Lacking Proper Punctuation,
If you are asking a question, use a question mark. They look like this: ?
The answer to your question that was lacking proper punctuation is simple: I am a fish. With pectoral fins in place of opposable thumbs and a set of accompanying fingers, it’s difficult to  get things done in a world dominated by humans.  T-shirt designs are done and have were put to a vote, but there was little consensus and even less response to warrant the time and great effort it would take me to pursue the matter on a solo basis. I am preparing to approach a destination fly shop in Montana to see if they’d be interested in issuing some Hawg-Brown shirts to promote their shop. If they don’t jump at the opportunity they are fools and I will take my offer to the next shop. Ultimately some fly angling business will see the inherent brilliance in my proposal, although because I am dealing with fly fishing people (who are largely challenged when it comes to intellect) it may take some time. Until then, here’s a helpful link for you.
I am Roderick Hawg-Brown, and I speak the truth.
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Letters to the Predator

April 6, 2012 By 1 Comment

You’ve got something to say, I know you do. My recommendation is that you don’t keep it all inside–grow a pair, and say it. Contact me with your thoughts, I’ll answer your questions. But use good English. Speak in full sentences. Use punctuation and proper grammar.

And don’t expect me to sugar coat anything.

I am Roderick Hawg-Brown, and I speak the truth.

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I met my first April fool

April 1, 2012 By 4 Comments

You haven’t heard much from the Cut Bank lately because Spring has been slow to arrive. However, a recent spell of warmer weather brought out at least one anglerman with whom I was able to have a bit of fun.

He appeared to be some sort of professional angler, decked out from head-to-toe in the finest of gear, some of which still carried the price tags. His expensive-looking little net hung from the back of his fancy, over-loaded vest. Although he was streamer fishing he had a lanyard around his neck with floatant, desiccant and fly line dressing, as well as nippers, hemostats and a whistle. Yes, a whistle. His wading staff was attached to the belt of his waders. Can you believe the price of Simms G4Z waders? After his first cast it was clear that was no professional angler, just a fool with more money than common sense. He’d have done well to spend a little of that money on casting lessons, though I do love a good tailing loop. Or, several in this case.

Being starved for a little sport I decided to engage him for a spell and half-heartedly chased his poorly-presented  streamer a half dozen times. Seeing his expression through the film was priceless. On the last cast I took the end fly line in my mouth and made for the nearest sunken branch, where I proceeded to wrap the line around the lumber several times.  Mr. Tailing Loop was sure he had me on as he held the tip of his brand new 6 weight high and stripped in line as he walked hurriedly downstream toward where his line was anchored. Can you believe the price of the Sage One?

I heard him call out, “He’s put his head down and won’t budge!” To whom he was speaking I do not know for there was nobody within earshot. Soon he was in the water, reeling furiously and walking closer. When he was within a dozen feet I showed him my fin and swam right between his legs, wheeled around and bit him in the back of the knee.  I heard him shriek just as he fell backwards. Satisfied, I swam off with a mouthful of gore-tex. He’ll be sending those Simms waders in for some warranty repair.

If this is any indication, it’s going to be an exceptional year.

 

I am Roderick Hawg-Brown and I speak the truth.

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