Innovation

Innovation.  Webster's dictionary defines it as "something newly introduced" or "a change in the way of doing things".  There is a reason I contacted Tim Patterson, owner of RIGS Fly Shop and Guide Service, this past February, asking him if he would consider offering guided tenkara fly fishing trips.  RIGS has embraced tenkara from the get-go.  Not only did they introduce the first and only guided tenkara trips in Colorado (yes, they hired me in the process), they also grabbed the ball and ran with it.  In the ensuing months, the RIGS staff has done extensive R&D in the development of new and innovative tenkara lines, to include a floating line and a weight-forward nymphing line, as well as new tenkara fly patterns and techniques.  And I admire my team for their willingness to take chances and push the envelope.
One reason I feel fortunate to belong to the RIGS staff is that they respect the traditional tenkara methods, and at the same time are looking at new and different ways to offer tenkara to inexperienced fly anglers or experienced western fly anglers who are looking for something different.  One size does not fit all, and that philosophy is one that I've come to realize is very true.  We all fish different water and conditions.  We all come from varying backgrounds and experiences.  Having a fly shop and guide service here in Colorado that recognizes that diversity within the realm of tenkara is a godsend.

A case in point is the new tenkara nymphing line, designed and offered by RIGS...

Today I took a day off from my teaching duties and spent some time on the Arkansas River testing the new weight-forward tenkara nymphing line, a RIGS exclusive.  This 12'6" line is comprised of sections of high-vis multi-colored flourocarbon line, with a section of heavier line toward the tippet end of the line.  The hi-vis indicator sections, coupled with clear running line sections, allow for maximum depth control and added strike detection without sacrificing visibility.  I found the knots between sections to be a very good way to monitor depth, as the knots gather more light and are a bit more visible than the line itself, especially in low light conditions, which is common on mid-winter late afternoons on your favorite ice-free tailwater.  This line, teamed up with an unweighted to weighted nymph, turns over nicely, and delivers the fly to the water with ease and still allows you to keep much of the line off the water.

During my testing today, I partnered this new line with one of my self-tied Killer Kebaris.  The line performed as advertised, and the results speak for themselves.

The Rhythm of the Vise

There are those evenings at the fly vise when things just come together.  I've been tying a lot of flies lately, to the tune of at least a dozen a night lately.  It's all part of a larger project that'll come to fruition in early January at the Denver fly show.  What I'm getting at is that there's a certain "rightness" to spending an hour or two at the vise, getting everything right, and putting together some really great flies.  It's not like the planets have to align, and that you have to do this in the light of a full moon.  All it takes is an open mind, quality feathers, and touching turns of wire and Shetland yarn.  Some really good music and a glass or two of Colorado microbrew don't hurt either.  Allowing a perfect hen pheasant soft hackle to spread like a tiny flower around a barbless hook, wrapping with precision, and finishing that fly with care is time well spent.  May your winter tying be as rewarding as mine.      

Of Bucks and Browns

I may have mentioned this in the past but autumn is far and away my favorite time of the year.  It's when two of my passions come together...fishing and hunting.  I continue to be amazed at the life I've been fortunate enough to have, and the backcountry I have just outside my front door.

 

I spent a few days hiking the rocky ridges and draws, brush-busting through stands of Gambel's Oak, and still hunting the ponderosa pine covered mountainsides.

On the next-to-last day of my hunting season I connected with my buck with a 150-yard shot across a little valley.  I was lucky enough to have our oldest daughter, Rachel, there to help me field dress him and drag him out to the truck.  Luckily, this year I didn't have to pack him out on my back with multiple trips to and from the carcass.  What a blessing!



One tradition we have is for fresh deer heart after a successful hunt.  This year was no different.  I marinated the heart from my deer for a day, sliced it up into three cutlets, and threw them on a raging hot grill, along with peppers and onions.  What a feast!

A few days later I found myself with a tenkara rod in my hand, in the company of my good friend Eric Lynn, owner of Mountain Ridge Gear.  We had poked our way along a hair-raising jeep road to a piece of private water in the canyons near my home.  We returned to a mile-long stretch of water, just a dozen feet wide, that's always filled with eager brown trout.

Here's Eric, having the time of his life...

Yours truly with one of many browns caught that day!

Enjoying a late fall indian summer day in the canyons with tenkara rods in our hands!





Tag Soup

Tag soup.  I can't eat elk meat this fall, so I'll just cook up my tag.

What in the world does elk hunting have to do with tenkara?  Well, the unsung other half of Tenkara Tracks is devoted to lightweight (bordering on ultralight) backpacking, and THAT has everything to do with how I hunt elk.

I headed out alone into the Stomping Grounds last Friday morning, knowing that eventually I might be joined by my good friend, Eric Lynn, and his son, Levi.  I carried my life, and my rifle, on my back in a prototype ultralight pack made for me a number of years ago by Patrick Smith, my rambling partner on many an adventure.

There's nothing flat about my elk hunting country.  It's either up or down.  It's uphill all the way in, from a trailhead at 9,200' up to the highest glassing perch at timberline, which at this latitude is nearly 12,000 feet above sea level.

I spent Friday burning my legs and lungs, reaching camp shortly before supper time.  On the way I bumped a cow moose, with her calf in tow, hidden in the willows. 

The sun drops quickly, and so does the mercury in the thermometer at this elevation.  It was pitch black when I heard Eric and Levi nearing my tiny camp.  An experienced mountain hunter, Eric had led his teenage son through four miles of off-trail alpine wilderness in the dark to find me.

The next day proved to be both beautiful and elkless.  We positioned ourselves high so we could glass, but there were no elk.  Taking of advantage of my time in the wilderness, I got caught up on writing.  This was actually the highlight of my weekend, as my field notes have been neglected for several weeks.

With an absence of elk, we concentrated on knocking down a couple of snowshoe hares in the vicinity of camp.  I connected in the dark timber northwest of camp, and then Eric and I teamed up for a short bunny hunt a bit later.  With two snowshoes in hand, we settled in for an evening of living off the land and fire watching.

Dining on snowshoe hare legs, deep in the Colorado wilderness.  Living life at its fullest!

The next morning was devoted to bushwhacking our way down off the high country, after a warm morning in camp.

Getting ready to head down the mountain...



Why I Tie

It's been said by the best authority that you only need one fly...ever.  And it's also been said that to tie or fish anything more than that, you're likely doing it much more for yourself than you are for the trout.  Perhaps there's more truth in that than most of us would like to admit. 

However, I submit that there are other worthwhile reasons to tie, and to tie a bunch of patterns.  Sure, I tie (and fish) way more than one pattern.  And a lot of that is done for purely selfish reasons like my need for peace and quiet, the relaxation that only a fly vise or a reloading press can provide, or the fun that comes from adding funky twists to established fish-catchers.  But the one very rewarding thing that has come from my fly tying is that I also tie for my friends. 

I have a tight knot of friends who have been with me through thick and thin.  They've backpacked, skied, hunted, frozen, burned, fished, and rambled with me all over the Colorado Rockies. On occasion, I have entrusted them with with my own children in the backcountry. They would give me the shirts off their backs, and I would do the same for them.  So, until the time comes to do just that, I'll be content to send them a handful of my flies from time to time. 

 

Lite-Brite Sakasa Kebari

I made an online comment this evening about how I had spent some time this afternoon tying up what I had previously called my "Summer Kebari", while our youngest daughter, Libby, played with her Lite-Brite on the floor next to my tying table.  The Lite-Brite just happens to have been invented by my friend and author, Reg Darling's, father-in-law Burt Meyer.

After my online comment, TJ Ferreria, who works for Tenkara USA, replied that I should call my fly the "Lite-Brite Kebari".  After a little chuckle, I realized that TJ was making perfect sense!  Is my fly light?  YES!  Is it bright?  YES!  Not to mention that here's our little girl, sitting on the bedroom floor next to me, playing with Mr. Meyer's invention (the same toy I played with over 40 years ago), his daughter married to my friend Reg, whos writing has entertained, inspired, and captured me for a number of years.

Good grief!  Sometimes this old world and its happenings are simply amazing! 

The Lite-Brite Sakasa Kebari!

Writing About What I Write About

Driving across the high elevation shortgrass prairie of northwestern Fremont County today with Jason Klass, we wiggled our way into a conversation about the content of our respective blogs, both of which are based on tenkara.  The talk centered around what we write in our blogs, and why.  As for Tenkara Tracks, I've purposely chosen to write more about how tenkara feels, rather than provide how-to instruction on fly tying, casting, reading water, or any of the zillion other things that I could provide instruction for.  There are plenty of websites and blogs devoted to that, and they're doing a fine job for the most part.  I would much rather write about my tenkara experiences.  How it feels to hike down from a high lake in the pouring rain and pounding hail, hoping you don't get struck by lightning.  How it feels to have an ever-so-slight breeze behind you as you cast upstream, watching kebaris land on the water as they only can with that faint breeze.  How it feels to anticipate what that fish will look like, in the moment between when it takes your fly and your first glimpse of it, your only indication that it's a really big one being it's quivering pull on the tip of your rod.  Yes, I'll still throw in a gear review now and then, but look for more of my experiences in the backcountry, and less how-to.  Now, I have a whole day of fishing to think through, and it sure was a grand day in the canyons.  More on that soon!