The Best Carp Flies: How To Tie And Fish Them

"Carp are the fly rodder's ultimate gamefish. This is the first comprehensive book on tying the best flies for carp, featuring patterns and techniques from anglers around the United States. With over 600 step-by-step photos and over 20 patterns by tiers ranging from Barry Reynolds to Bob Clouser to author Jay Zimmerman, including fishing information, this book is the definitive fly-tying resource for those who love the challenge of fooling carp on the fly."

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Best Fly Shop In The Country...?

The Gink and Gasoline Fly Shop 500

Follow the link and vote for your favorite fly shop! If you are a fly tier who has used one of Craven's books, been in one of his classes, been to the shop in Arvada, or ordered materials from his shop (http://www.charliesflyboxinc.com/) or used his free online tutorials...VOTE FOR PEDRO! I mean CHARLIES FLY BOX!

http://www.ginkandgasoline.com/fly-fishing-lifestyle/the-gink-and-gasoline-fly-shop-500/

Modern Terrestrials...the next fly tying awsome bomb dropped by Rick & Jerry (and Jay at Headwaters)

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Warm Water Fishing is Heating Up!

Many of the rivers here in Colorado are high and flush with runoff, making for poor trout fishing, so many anglers are turning to the warm water venues for the time being. I spend most of the Spring season chasing the non-trouts regardless of the flows. However, some of my favorite carp reservoirs have been taking on so much cold run-off water that the local carp fishing has been put on ice, so to speak. This forces me to switch it up a bit and search out some of my other favorite game fish...

We had several items on the agenda this morning--the most important was to find some fish. I did have a brand new eight weight rod that needed to be dirtied up and Eva (my sister) is in town and anxious to try her hand at pike fishing. Erin and I figured we could take care of both of these chores at the same time! The three of us rose well before dawn, with rods already strung (and locked in a spare room away from the cats) and assaulted the line (of cattails).

The water had gotten a bit too warm for the pike fishing to be fantastic, but we all landed a few. I managed to scrounge out a pretty decent bass once the sun came up, which was the highlight of my morning. 

Brown Water Got Ya Blue?

Runoff is getting ready to kick into the serious gear any day now. What did you expect with massive snow pack and hot May days? The Arkansas has been fishing fantastic...until right...now. Blown. Sorry. Now you have no more excuses. You have been threatening to go out and learn to carp fish for a couple years now, but have never quite gotten around to it. Stop making noise about it and actually do something about it. They get big, will test your skills and tackle...I promise. But, if you are too scared, that's cool. You will look like a first-year hack I guarantee it, but you will be twice the fly angler by the end of runoff. 

Here are just two of the several nice common carp we landed on Sunday. All sight fishing. Took plenty of backing (seriously, when was the last time you saw your backing while fishing here in Colorado?) Some of these big guys even jumped a few times!

Bycatch

When I fished commercially we called any species that was caught unintentionally while hunting for a certain target species bycatch. I worked as a halibut longliner in the waters around Kodiak and Afognak Islands and the primary bycatch was grey cod. The cod is a nasty fish with soft white meat that turns into the a stinky paste-like substance when handled. If you have ever ordered fish-n-chips at a restaurant here in Colorado that is what you ate, sorry to break it to ya... Gutted cod went for fifty cents a pound back then so it was pretty easy and lucrative, as halibut was only going for about $2.00 a pound. The other bycatch (ling cod, eel, octopus and what-not) was just turned around and used as bait on the next mornings set. 

But that was another lifetime ago...

Now I am a born-again catch and release fly angler. I guess it is atonement for my past, not that I have any guilt. I still hit Wholefoods in Boulder on Fridays when the fresh fish is coming in. I may not be a saved man, just a hypocrite. None the less, it is funny to listen to the landlocked young blokes behind the seafood counter spout forth handed-down knowledge and strut about in their very new looking orange bibs and Xtra Tufs. I smile and say nothing as I am an asshole, but certainly not a d-bag.

Now my bycatch is whatever I did not set out to find, which is ever-changing. I do my best to mix things up as much as possible to keep things interesting. I try to let the season and the weather dictate what I do, with the hope that this will increase my odds of a good day. It is my way of "standing on a soft seventeen", but like in Blackjack this only increases the odds slightly. We gamblers and fishermen put great stock in slight odds.  Today Erin, Banjo and I went on the search for some largemouth bass, but after a few hours of driving about and checking on (casting blindly into) some of our favorite spots, we were coming up bass-less. There were some juvenile carp around that ate willingly, but that was bycatch. It is funny, when actively carping we call it getting "bass blocked" when a bass zips over and steals your carp fly. It is usually a bummer, especially if the spoiled cast was made to a good-sized carp. After awhile we decided that bass fishing was just not in the cards (maybe the water was still too cold?) and made the full mental switch to the pursuit of carp.

It doesn't take a genius to predict what happened next. Damn bass.

 

Misery Avoids Company

I asked Dave to check the next morning's weather on his little smart texting do-dad before we left the shop yesterday. He looked at me like a teenager looks at a parent when they discover the jars of spices stacked neatly in the microwave. I don't know what they are called. I must have dropped off the technology wagon right about the time of electric coffee grinders. But I still prefer the wooden ones with the big black grinder handle like the one my aunt Kay used to have. I remember her utilizing any of us children as child grinding  labor at a moments notice. I did not mind...I just pretended the coffee beans were my prisoners and I was some sadistic Walter Mitty. Dave said they were calling for rain, cold and wind down on the flat lands and it sounds like good stay at home by the fire type of weather.

Nope. That sounds like pike fishing weather. With no chance of company.

No company other than that of the woman who tied the flies, packed the lunch, made the coffee and drug my old, complaining ass out of the warm bed well before light, that is... So, it was fitting that it was me who had to take photos of her pike and not the other way around.

Flood Waters, Long Winters & Rumor Control

Winter in the mountains is longer than I remember them being back when I lived on flat land. When others are planting spring gardens and going bike rides, I am still shoveling snow and hauling in firewood. This winter has been exceptionally long, however. My "winter" started last September 11. My parents flew in that afternoon (they got great deals on tickets, for some odd reason...) I picked them up in the rain at a park-n-ride down the hill from the fly shop and I did my best to reassure my dad that the rain shouldn't effect the fishing. As I drove them home up the canyon road the little creek looked like it was going to burst over the road at any minute. "That doesn't look promising," Dad said... Oh, it will calm down by morning. Sheesh!

Well, it did not calm down. As it turned out, I was one of the last to drive that canyon road for a long time. A 1,000-year rain event they called it once it was all said and done. Roads got washed away...houses, cars, boulders, pets and even a few people got flushed away. I did not get to fish with my dad, as we were stranded at the cabin for several days digging trenches, helping neighbors and cooking on a propane backpackers stove whatever we happened to have in the cupboards.

The two weeks that my parents were visiting was supposed to be my last big fishing hoorah before I knuckled down and got serious about the massive writing/photography project I had on the docket. (The down side to accepting an advance check from a publisher is that they usually make you except a deadline, as well.) But, there was no last hoorah. Once things settled down and my parents were able to escape, there were months of round-about, back-country detours just to get to the fly shop and back. Two hour drives one way on nearly washed out gravel roads and switchbacks. And once the canyon was open again, there was still the damn book to write. It was a long, long winter...

But this too shall pass, and it did. It is spring again. I am no longer burning every night to keep the cabin warm and Erin and I are starting to plan for another failed attempt at a high-altitude garden...again. And I am back to writing drivel for free...again. And fishing. I had been told by a UPS delivery man about a small lake out on the plains that held big bass and maybe even some northern pike. I did not know the guy, not even his name. It was just a rumor. But rumors like that beg to be looked into...just to be sure. So, Erin and I packed up our heavy rods and rose well before dawn. The morning was cold and Erin lamented not bringing gloves or a hat. But the mild suffering would be worth it if things panned out... But they did not. The water was shallow and seemingly void of any life at all. Chalk it up to rumor control and an elaborate ruse to entertain the dog for awhile. 

On the way back to the truck we stumbled onto a smaller pond full of very actively feeding carp, however. And we always pack our six weights and a box of Backstabbers! After a quick trot up to the truck to switch out rods and re-rig for carp, a rather pleasant day began to unfold...

Pulp Fly (Volume Three)

Contributors include:

Michael Gracie

Erin Block

Alex Landeen

Pete McDonald

Miles Nolte

Tom Reed

Tom Sadler

Bruce Smithhammer

April Vokey

Bob White

Steve Zakur

Jay Zimmerman

It's an E-book: Purchase and support the writers!

Walking the Dog

Today was far too nice of a day to be inside or do chores...even if they were piling up as fast as the snow drifts were melting. It was hot even up in the canyon. I lay in bed this morning and tied to remember if I still had enough kindling to start a fire, or if I was going to have to trudge out back in my knee boots and pajama bottoms looking like a mountain bumpkin. But it was not even chilly enough to warrant a fire...

Erin and I both tried to get some odds and ends done around the cabin and even sat down around lunchtime to get some writing done. Erin grueled through some more footnotes for a book she is wrapping up and I tried to focus on a project that is in that scary stage of barely being started...but the first half of the advance on royalties has been spent. So my bills are payed, but I am now kinda committed. Enslaved to the keyboard. But we both looked outside, looked at each other...and then at the dog. We should really take him for a walk, we agreed.

Opening Day

When I was a kid "opening day" was as exciting as any good holiday with all the same build up and anticipation ..and staying up late the night before. That ended with the usually and similar over-expectations and let downs. Opening day meant the first day of trout season in western Pennsylvania when I was a kid. Happened about this time of year, too...mid April. The nights and waters were still cold, I remember. And the opening day usually found me and friends standing on the banks of a creek, nursing under-aged hangovers (Busch Lite bought by a friends older brother) and gazing hopefully and dumbfounded out over a a body of trout stream brown and bursting at the seams from run off. Rarely was a fish seen at all.

The idea of an opening day or even the concept of a trout season is so foreign to any fly fishers who have never lived outside Colorado or elsewhere here in the Rocky Mountain West. It seems even a bit silly. And it was... especially because it usually was stocked trout we were looking for. Checking stocking reports, listening to the Weather Channel  eavesdropping on bait-store gossip... Yes, it all was a bit silly now compared to the 365-day binge we enjoy out here. And wild trout. But there is still something that gets me pumped up about being told you can't fish...and then, NOW you can! Go! Like a dog obediently drooling and staring cross-eyed at the Milkbone balanced on his nose. Or the first time that cute girl doesn't back away when you lean in for a kiss. The build up makes the reward so memorable.

These memories of the PA trout openers of my youth are the reason I still wake up early and drive down to Denver and fish the Rocky Mountan Arsenal on opening weekend. There are other, less crowded pike spots and a hundred other great (and better) bass lakes on the Front Range, but that ain't the point. The gate opens at 6 o'clock and everything is prepped ahead of time...flies are tied, rods are strung and resting in the bed of the pickup truck. Radio belching some old Chris Ledoux. Lets drive up get out and get on another one and boy you better win...Warm gloves. Hot coffee. Spare wire leaders. Here we go!

Interview With a Potty Mouth

I've only shared time with Jay Zimmerman once--we tipped a few beers in Denver during a gathering of writers and bloggers a few months back. But Jay is one of those guys who's simply hard to miss in this incestuous little community we've chosen. He's outspoken. He can be a little crass. But he's thoughtful and I think he's really smart.

One minute you're thinking, "Dude, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" and the next you're wishing aloud, "Damn, I'd love to be able to enunciate my thoughts that profoundly ... at least once."

A lot of you may know Jay as the significant other who's attached to Erin Block, the fine young writer who's recently penned a book and whose work appears regularly in TROUT Magazine. But Jay's carved a niche in the fly fishing world all his own--he's a hell fly tyer, and he's not a bad writer in his own right. He has his own following (and his own book on the market), and rightly so.

I feel fortunate that I got to spend some time with Jay and Erin in Denver a few months ago, and I look forward to the opportunity to share a drink with them again sometime soon.

On with the questions: Eat More Brook Trout

Jumping the Gun...?

At our cabin up in the canyon there is still a foot of snow by the wood pile, and we have fires even during the day. It is cold enough at night and the dog doesn't linger...a fast pee and he is back at the door. But it is to be expected. It is late March and we are in Colorado. And we live at 8000 feet. I am reminded of the end of Jeremiah Johnson...when he and Bear Claw discuss over a rabbit what month it might be. March? April maybe? Winter stays long up this high... But I work down in the flat land and it has been nice down there. Sunny and worm. Hot even.  So the urge to get a crack at some early season bass has been brewing for days now... So today was the day we decided to pull the trigger. As we rolled out of the mouth of the canyon I realized that there was still a lot of snow on the ground even down low. I thought it all had melted. Where we way too early for bass yet? Where we totally jumping the gun? Once we got to the water the first thing I did was dip my hand in to gauge just how much gas money we had wasted... But the water wasn't too bad. Cold, but not frigid.  A promising sign. So we did what you have to do in the early season if you want to find bass...we fished heavy, dark flies on long leaders. Deep and slow. Erin picked up a couple small crappie right off, so I knew we had a chance! And sure thing...the bass came soon after!

Represent Your Mud Flat!

Rep Your Water is not just for you clean water, trout heads anymore...! The new logos are out now for the 2013 season. And you know which one I was rockin' this afternoon on the mud flats!

Check out the new Carp/Backstabber logo from the cool cats over at Repyourwater....

South Boulder Creek

My home water, South Boulder Creek, is very low...hardly a trickle, but the last few days have been so warm and beautiful it has been impossible to stay indoors and labor away at tying or writing projects. Nothing seems more important than being outside with a rod in hand. So Erin and I saddled up and hit the creek for a few hours in the afternoon. In the truck and past Carl's Corner and the canyon liquor store...down the bumpy red-dirt road and on to to the creek. There were a few others down on the water, but is did not deter us as it sometimes has in the past. We were just "glad to be out" as people say. (People we usually make fun of.) Midges were hatching and there were a few trout rising to them...but we took all of our fish below the surface, on small stuff like beadhead Juju's and a fly Erin calls the "Queen E". It was a good day.

Cold Blue Nights (Fly Fishing Film)

Top Ten Guide to Fly Fishing (Lyons Press)

One of the most accessible guide books on the market, this guide not only provides all the information beginning and intermediate anglers need in order to start catching trout, the information is also presented in a quick and easy, highly-browsable format of top-ten lists.

Curious how to tie and use the ten best knots and rigging techniques? Ever thought about the ten most essential things to look for when selecting a new fly rod? What are the top dry flies for trout? What mistakes do most new anglers make when learning to cast?

A fun conversation starter and a set of streamside tips rolled into one, this lighthearted look at a serious sport will give beginners the value of solid instruction while more seasoned fly-fishers will enjoy quibbling with the author’s rankings and choices.

"I've never seen so much good advice in one place. All how-to fishing books should be written by people who work in fly shops." --John Gierach

Order A Copy Today!

Dumb Shit Asked At The Fly Shop (2012)

He who said "There is no such thing as a dumb question" has very obviously never worked in a fly shop. I love talking to those who love to fish...it is my job and I look forward to it every day. The things I enjoy the most are the questions. I never know what I am about to get. I take it as a challenge to have the answer. Like playing "Stump the Band". Often I am clueless, and I will admit defeat (instead of lying or making something up) but more often than not I am able to help, or redirect the fisherman and that gives me great satisfaction. But sometimes I am left speechless...  This past year was an exceptionally good one. I collected (verbatim) all of my favorites! Enjoy!


"I heard animals act weird when there is a lot of smoke in the air. Do you think the trout in the Big Thompson are being bothered by the smoke from the High Park fire?"

"Do you guys sell salmon fly midges?"

"I want to stick a couple flies in my hat. Are there special flies for that?"

"I'm constantly loosing flies. Do you have flies that don't keep coming off?"

"This leader is new! I've only been fishing with it for a month or two!"

"When you say this bead-head fly will sink...what does that mean?"

"Is this Colorado fishing license good for other states?"

"Hey, will you guys honor a $100 Cabelas gift card?"

"I need a new leader. My last one was junk...it had one end that was really thick and the other end was really skinny."

"If my dry fly is dragging on the surface, does that mean I have on too much floatant?"

"So...the dry fly hooks you sold me. I tested them at home and they all sink."

Woman pointing to photo of a tigerfish hanging on fly shop wall: "Is that a snapping turtle?"

Favorites from past years:

"Why do you guys sell a snowshoe rabbits foot...for good luck?"

"I'm fixing my septic system. Do you guys rent waders?"

"What fly should I put the floatant on? The dry fly or the leech?"

"Why is it so important that waders be waterproof?"

Best of all time!

Dude: "Excuse me, this may be a dumb question..."

Me: "Aw hell, dude...I guarantee it won't even make top three of the week! Shoot!"

Dude: "Is this the Frying Pan River and am I in Basalt?"

Me: "Uh...no. That is Boulder Creek and you are in Boulder."

Dude: "Oh shit. I was supposed to be at my buddies wedding in Basalt ten minutes ago."

Me: "I take back my previous statement."

Dude: "But...I was in Aurora, typed it into my phone and Google sent me here."

Carp Pro Online Magazine!

Read It Here!