Clean Slate

Clean Slate . . .

Nymphing with Ebisu in January (NYC 01 2017)

Nymphing with Ebisu in January
(NYC 01 2017)

New York City wore a thin sheet of powdered snow for a few days at the start of the year.  Sustained rains came to soak the five boroughs, misted, warm enough to keep the park ponds free of ice. The cleanest water of the year rests still and cold . . . and uncovered.

The season of slate water is here to mark the new year. Winds like change blow through in between days foggy and still. Stillwater tenkara may best be tried when the wind is low enough not to complicate a narrow cast over and around branches bare or covered with dry leaves, crisp, curled, almost eager to grab a traditional tapered line or 5x leader.

Nymphs (and streamers if you must try more than one fly), crawled just above the bottom build technique, but often seem not to lure interest. Fishes all seem to have vanished, perhaps in the deepest water bedded down in the same submerged leaves that give the New York City waters that wintertime tannic quality and stony dark color.

Combined, it almost reads like a sign.

“Do Not Disturb”

For now then, fishes, all right.

– rPs 01 22 2017

Leave a Comment

Jetty Knight

Jetty Knight . . .

Jetty Knight by Maryann Amici (12 2016)

Jetty Knight
by Maryann Amici
(12 2016)

or Nothing, for the Birds . . .

Sometimes one takes tenkara to the ends of the Earth near the end of the year. Can one go father on running foot than the surf zone, North Atlantic Ocean, in December? Here you are.

The Birds

The Birds Family Scolopacidae (12 2016)

The Birds
Family Scolopacidae
(12 2016)

One picks fishing trips like slot machines. A line wins, sometime(s). Engaged in it on the fly is only a strategy. So is Tenkara. Wins are enjoyed, as are fishes, yet these come spaced enough for no exact science to be sure. Time and place judge. Conditions mix. Catches vary.

One day the water was calm, the breeze, barely, but very cold. The tenkara rod extended above surf and tolerated twitches tethered to a Clouser Kebari along the swells. Cormorants and other birds angled nearby. Hours passed. No takers.

The Pattern

Clouser Kebari (rPs 12 2016)

Clouser Kebari
(rPs 12 2016)

The Bait

The Bait (12 2016)

The Bait
(12 2016)

The Waves

The Waves (12 2016)

The Waves
(12 2016)

Next time swells capped white even an 8-weight could only surf high, water bucking the weighted pattern like a reveler on a casino’s mechanical bull. One hour made an epic casting lesson schooled by wind and water as fishes below hugged into boulder rock crevices unreachable.

Sometimes one fishes and catches nothing but a contemplative time, an athletic time, spent in a surf wave of sporting happiness.

Nothing, for the birds?

Slumbering Shell (12 2016)

Slumbering Shell
(12 2016)

— rPs 12 20 2016

Postscript: In memory of Louis J. Amici, Jr. (1947-2016) and Jeff Feldmeier (1966-2016). They always met the train on time.

Leave a Comment

December’s End of the Line

December’s End of the Line . . .

Blue Friday Tapered tenkara line excels with a girth hitch. (NYC 12 0 2016)

Blue Friday
The silk end of a tapered tenkara line excels with a girth hitch.
(NYC 12 02 2016)

 

End of the Line

 

There is no decree,

Always though words far and wise;

An ocean in size.

 

The water is free

When you are lucky as we,

See to shining sea.

 

Pass on the noose knot.

No need to see or see not.

You just have to be.

 

–  rPs 12 02 2016

 

Postscript: Holiday Fishing Forecast is Festive!

Leave a Comment

When Sunsets are Sudden

When Sunsets are Sudden . . .

 

Bluegill in November (NYC 11 2016)

Bluegill in November
(NYC 11 2016)

Sunsets are sudden in November. A day filled with fine mist and nimbus sky can open up, sprint into a quick dip of the sun, a sudden appearance by the moon, indigo sky meeting a horizon silhouetted for a brief period before an almost liquid tangerine infinity.  Venus glows star-white bright low to the southwest.

Leaves give tannin to the color tone of darker autumn water. Some lower branches of the Norway maples hold onto pennants of green and gold. Ginkgo like old gold coins pile into wind-drawn patches along the pond path. The oaks above and behind keep a full coat of the most russet leaves that whisper in low passing passages when the weather is best for angling. Mitten weather, still air, cold enough for a fingerless weave if dressed for comfort.

 

 Mitten Weather: Autumn Impressionism (NYC 2016)

Mitten Weather:
Autumn Impressionism
(NYC 2016)

A city park light switches on and the scattered bite of bluegill juveniles ceases. The bite become as light as the feather and fur assembled onto a crimped barbless salmon hook. The size 8 shank gets nibbled in and a light set of the rod raised connects to heaving sideswipes repeated four or five times before the fish in net measures out to ten inches, a quarter pound. Small fish this time of year bolstered by the stronger resistance the finned ones use in the angling wrestle.

Black crappies by the light of the night, and then, after a final fish, an early “Good night.”

Days follow that might be bright and cold and clear. The city soars into Holiday Season. The coated oaks then chatter and even roar in a strong sustained blow from the Canadian west. Days bright, best spent recasting, spent writing.

 

Black Crappie at Dusk (NYC 11 2016)

Black Crappie at Dusk
(NYC 11 2016)

 

– rPs 11 28 2016

Leave a Comment

A Great Lake

A Great Lake . . .

Steelhead Visit Here (Erie County, PA, 11 2016)

Steelhead Visit Here
(Erie County, PA, 11 2016)

The angler and artist and author has gone off toward high cliffs of layered shale. Oak and maple leaves blow down the vertical faces of stone and enter flow. Fish of steel have returned and reside now in the stream set against the crooks and curves of the geologic foundation.

Fish in silhouette appear, some poised along submerged ledges, others nestled in nests of coalesced autumn leaves.

Fish of thirty inches — pale green, silvered and spotted, others cast in iridescent black and purple — all fresh from another year in Lake Erie, halt and go through these runs and pools and seams.

Downstream, a lake the size of the sea stretches out to where the horizon runs horizontal blue.

Orchards and vineyards along the coast can provide refreshment.

Here it is beside a great lake.

Good travels.

— rPs 11 15 2016

Postscript: In Memory of Christian Hand, poet, chef, droogie, born fifty years ago on this date in 1966.

Leave a Comment

A Short Time at Tibbett’s

A Short Time at Tibbett’s . . .

October Colors Bluegill (NYC 10 2016)

October Colors
Bluegill
(NYC 10 2016)

One busy day off encumbered by multiple projects may convince you there is no time for fishing. There is. Three or four hours at the end of the afternoon spill before you like a glass set beside an unopened bottle of wine. Time enough, though truncated. The goal, fresh air, and to be gripped to a cork handle, arm held strong in the wrestle with a fish.

The path that passes like a spine north through Van Cortlandt Park in The Bronx is one best run. The occasional lingerer, for whatever purpose, may at times shadow a more slow footed exploration of the path. The plus side of this urban nature space still wins a day spent angling here. Tree canopy above is impressive and full of common eastern songbirds. The public  golf course on the eastern side of the path affords glimpses at some good games in process.

Tenkara, Running, Packed. (NYC 10 2016)

Tenkara, Running, Packed.
(NYC 10 2016)

Running tenkara continues to make fishing life more easy. Horizons expand. Running feet have the ability to arrive energized, to rush unmolested beyond strangers, and to connect promising fishing spots like dots along the brook.

Tibbett’s Brook, like the path, connects the lakes of two city’s. One can follow this path and continue north to Tibbett’s Brook Park, but that is not NYC; the park resides in Yonkers.

So, the Tibbett’s Brook, then. October sees the very tips of just some trees turning toward the yellow or the red. The brook, as does the Van Cortlandt Lake, reflects low, clear water.

Tibbett's Water (NYC 10 2016)

Tibbett’s Water
(NYC 10 2016)

The fish? Bluegill. Crappie. One pair of largemouth bass cruised in parallel swimming pattern in a manner that resembled a mathematical equal sign, which  hinted at other impulses in mind. A few more bluegill; a sweet spot of crappie bright like tarnished uncirculated silver. More than one a full handful, even on a bright, chilly afternoon trip of a few hours on runner’s foot.

Numismatic Crappie (NYC 10 2016)

Numismatic Crappie
(NYC 10 2016)

Time enough. Tenkara Time.

— rPs 10 25 2016

Leave a Comment

Bass Trio

Bass Trio . . .

 

Rock Bass

Rock Bass (09 2016)

Rock Bass
(09 2016)

 

Smallmouth Bass

Smallmouth Bass (09 2016)

Smallmouth Bass
(09 2016)

 

Largemouth Bass

Largemouth Bass (09 2016)

Largemouth Bass
(09 2016)

 

September is a fishing month for bass.

This may be the best bass time of all.

What a (foot)ball!

Fishes keep biting, again and again,

When you continue to release them.

 

— rPs 09 23 2016

 

Postscript: The fly pattern used in all three examples was my Green Guarantee, size 8; my one fly for freshwater tenkara.

Comments (1)

« Newer Posts · Older Posts »