Posts Tagged New York

New York’s West Coast

New York’s West Coast . . .

Lake Erie
(11 2017)

My one fly kebari for the local freshwater, The Green Guarantee, required a second thought for a November trip to the tributaries along New York’s far west coast.

The fish from Lake Erie, migratorial steelhead, salmonid with shoulders and a girth exceeding a foot of inches, settled me on size 8 streamer and salmon hooks. The results, tied, packed, fished, finished positive.

Lake Erie Chrome
(11 2017)
(photo credit: Stephen Kasperovich)

 

Green Guarantee, meet . . .

The Ho Holiday

The Ho Holiday
(NYC 11 15 2017)

The Ho Holiday

Fly tied, alliteration activated, for a kebari salmon steelhead fly named to honor a variety of levels of meaning. Honor for the mighty steelhead river Ho on the Olympic Peninsula. The holiday red added for the steelhead’s predilection for hot color when streambound. Tinsel added for the traditional barber pole spiral dressing, the necktie of the fly.

Steelhead take such a fly in places autumnal beautiful in a way always graceful followed by a force up, down, side to side, in and out of water, sprints that push water, jumps that land on the water with a bass plunge that resonates sheer weight. Magnificent animals, each and every steelhead represents itself.

Quick Grip Before Release
(11 2017)

 

Respect.

— rPs 11 15 2017

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50, Fish Day: Part II

50, Fish Day: Part II . . .

Bridge at 50
(USA 08 2017)

 

Fifty (50!) found me along a freestone stream. Water flowed, shared with kingfisher and heron, the frog, and a few scattered sulphers in the air.

The forage I chose to imitate through the day was the crayfish. A generic pale mayfly caddis passed the evening.

Before me, evening dawned, at the bridge, covered, once the grand entrance to a mill good for grit. This day, for me, the line of start and finish, explore and fish, the “Where?” spot in my own story met another’s, the baton this time released to a great blue heron, which spread wings, turned, flapped upstream with the carriage of a citzen.

Turned, bridge behind, current carried me from the back. Water clear and cool enough for trout. Scattered rain, drops vertical, under dynamic gray sky, some blue in passing patches.

What here encountered the tenkara scuttle of Green Guarantee and Deer and Herl kebari produced a double digit count of smallmouth bass, sandy or barred, and fallfish, bright as a tarpon, sipping both emerging and emerged.

Smallmouth: Barred
(08 2017)

Smallmouth: Sandy
(08 2017)

Sunset plus one, the hike in hardy wading pants under sky of brick red and blue, my pocket light lit the green marsh path, towing net, vested, kebari art, and tenkara baton down through a dark chapel of trees. The incandescent blue lane above my head lured my eyes up, out, there I glimped a meteor of The Perseids, and smiled.

Bright as a Tarpon:
Fallfish
(08 2017)

— rPs 08 23 2017

 

 

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Josetsu in July

Josetsu in July . . .

Answer in Hand
(NYC 07 12 2017)

How do you catch a catfish with a gourd?

Tenkara

Catfish like the black bullhead will be a game opponent in summer if one waits for lower light and goes slow on the presentation speed. Evening lifts the direct sun off the lake and Ameiurus melas returns from the lake’s deeper places, the sinks and channeled centers, onto the flats, shallows where lily pads and branches attract diverse creature protein.

Bullhead Abode
(NYC 07 12 2017)

Places storied as the same of the bass and other sunfish. The approach best calm, cautious, the fly, for me my one fly; a Green Guarantee kebari pattern, one that earlier lured a bluegill from the same end of the lake.

This plump pond permit flattened my Green Guarantee.
(NYC 07 12 2017)

Slowed to a crawl, patience through repetition gets to be rewarded by a sudden tug, the shake of the head that compels the wrist to lift, set, find a fish on the line.

July evenings may find the finned to be a black bullhead catfish. Whenever I see this fish family’s end game wrestle about the surface, I see the whiskers, and smile.

We two, this fish and this fisher, are quite alike, even in the face.

Nature. Found. Naturally.

Josetsu and the elder shogunate clans, I hope, approve.

Black Bullhead the size of a zucchini . . . GOURD.
(NYC 07 12 2017)

Arigato gozaimas!

zazen . . .

rPs 07 21 2017

 

Postscript: Revisit my first reference to Josetsu here, at TTM, circa April 2012:

https://tenkaratakesmanhattan.com/2012/04/20/the-answer-tenkara/

 

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Summer Flush

Summer Flush . . .

 

Solstice Shower Passes Meadow Lake
(NYC 06 21 2017)

Meadow Lake, shaped like a peanut, perimetered by tall phragmites, has again proven to be a place where fish confounds fisher.

The fish of Flushing-Corona Park are there, but when and where, mystery remains. The bite becomes regular, as all fishes feed, still Flushing’s finned inhabitants hold the cards.

The southern end of this shallow brackish lake has undergone substantional reclamation. Indigenous wildflowers bloom now along its open bank and litter to one eye has been reduced by 80%.

Evidence of species other than carp and white perch can be found. Two large yellow perch, large enough to believe their passing was caused by natural older age, revealed the only fish kill found around the entire water body, one minor enough to cause no concern.

Retired Perch
(NYC 06 21 2017)

 

No snakehead species have been spotted despite a conscious attempt to find one. What was a scare in the spring of 2013 may well  have been an isolated incident.

These fish are tough, and so can be the actual fishing. Wind has the ability here to foiled the best of casters. The lake seems to draw down the atmosphere, forming a vortex, a kind of reverse funnel, forcing, blowing air at once in all directions facing the fisher. There are breaks in this steady breeze, pauses measured in minutes, and this is when calm water may be read. Bubbles surface in scattered spots; turtles, a few, and carp, grazing the bottom in loose schools that resemble grazing sheep.

“Careful casts now!” is my whispered mantra at such times.

Numerous marsh birds, redwing blackbirds, cormorants, ducks, and gulls abound. Fishing birds are another good giide to the fishes’ whereabouts.

Mulberries have ripened with the arrival of summer.  Flush with the fruit of the tree, birds are fed and so are their counterparts in the water. The tenkara carp challenge continues around an interesting and improved urban natural environment.

Solstice Sweetness: Mulberries
(NYC 06 21 2017)

— rPs 06 30 2017

 

 

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Salad Days

Salad Days . . .

Modest Largemouth (NYC 06 2017)

. . . of June.

 

Pond shallows, turtle banks, all is lush.

The largemouths chase small fry.

Feathered bright as the white sky.

Herons all angle up modest luck.

 

(3) – a three-pound athletic bass was wrestled to the shaded green bank, the two of us tethered by 6X (4 lb.) monofilament tippet of a kind ideal for tenkara. Two runs had just bent the TUSA Yamaha rod into a bridge arch over turmoiled topwater. There had been a witness, Jesse Valentin, who earlier, with, together we watched the tall white bird spear pinch a brace of bluegill.

June = Bass

King Sunfishes.

20170602_134242

Jesse; “Heron 1, Bluegill 0” (NYC 06 2017)

Heron Approved.

— rPs 06 05 2017

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5 Yrs.

Five Yrs. . . .

Ebisu Approved
(NYC 04 09 2017)

“Five Years” is the title to the opening track of David Bowie’s necessary masterpiece “The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars”.

Five years now marks the amount of time I have spent rendering the topic of tenkara in images and words.  During that time, Bowie has passed, although his music continues to inspire those of us still here, some of us fishing.

Manhattan saw my first use of true telescoping fishing on the fly. Exploration of the island’s fresh and salt fisheries has centered tenkara at my angling core. Rod, Line, Fly = fishing, and fish, more often than not.

The sport has drawn me across the face of New York, as well as Connecticut, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Colorado, Washington and Hawaii, waters fresh and salt.

It has been stated countless times in conversation that it takes ten years (or maybe 10,000 hours as in the words of Malcolm Gladwell), that it takes such long time to end up a master of some thing.

“Five Years” begins a great Bowie album.

Perhaps five years ends the beginning of an aspiring tenkara master’s journey path.

Five years ago today I began to offer my own word on tenkara, fishing, fly tying, and adventure, which I then as continue to now find to be a more than fitting, in fact necessary, natural progression of an author whose book Small Fry: The Lure of the Little, published in 2009, coincided in some ways parallel with the bright and enterprising incorporation of Tenkara USA by Daniel Galhardo.

Imagine my happiness, then, to receive in coincidence a copy of Daniel’s new authoritative tenkara book, — “The Book” – on this same 5th anniversary weekend of Tenkara Takes Manhattan.

Ebisu now, as then, appears to approve.

– rPs, Palm Sunday, 04 12 2017

Postscript: Revisit the first TTM post here:  https://tenkaratakesmanhattan.com/2012/04/09/hello-world/

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Cold Water, Wet Wind

Cold Water, Wet Wind . . .

 

The Sticks Cast
(NYC 03 2017)

Days of rain had drawn a distinct mudline, a seam bordered by blued rippled crystal, rendered by cold water current and a consistent wet wind. Perfect, for a stretch, from which fish might pounce on prey and retreat, covered.

A largemouth of fifteen inches darted from this cover and raced over the sprouts of pond bottom plants and in full sun rolled over my Green Guarantee. Rusty ron P. raised Ebisu, plucked the fly from the fish’s mouth a nanosecond before jaws could clamp down on the inhaled line.

Between the lasting breezes, a cold even thermal wear could not weather long. Run, jog, run made mandatory to stay active, not frozen. Beyond the sticks of last year’s shoreline stalks, fishes, and by leaning, balanced, a toehold on dry rock, Ebisu held out to work kebari along the edges, fishes.

Fishes. Yes. No, not the black bass, nor the expected black crappie. The bluegill, male and female both, took to strike the feather and fur kebari worked on the steady swim just above bottom.

Cold water.

Wet wind.

Fist Fish, 2017.

First Fish, 2017.
(NYC 03 2017)

Second Fish, 2017.

Second Fish, 2017.
(NYC 03 2017)

Yes. Gone fishing. Catching and Releasing. Happy.

–  rPs 03 31 2017

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