FlyTalk

Been awhile since we've done this. This one's just "extra credit."

Nate and Tim went fishing the other day, and Kirk was rowing the boat. We came upon a big meandering eddy in the river, where we saw fish rising and feeding off the surface. For the most part, they were pointed downstream, feeding on mayflies in the backwash of the eddy. Curiously, however, the fish would turn on for a minute, then disappear below the surface for another couple minutes. Tim fired beautiful, delicate casts all over the run, but didn't get bit. Nate, on the other hand, held onto his small dry fly (the same pattern as Tim's) and waited. "Ah, now it's right," said Nate. He fired one cast, and bang, a trout ate his fly.

What did Nate see to make him decide the time was right to make that cast?

Now, a little housekeeping: Alabama Flygirl proved that it takes a woman to figure out a "Real Man of Genius," so she wins the William Joseph chestpack. Hit me at [email protected], Flygirl, so I know where to send your reward.

And, yes indeed, Nate, Tim, and Kirk did go fishing the other day, and despite my smack-talking, I have to admit the boy from NYC kicked this tailgunner's butt (however the old man acquitted himself with a decent trick from the archive by day's end). And the highest marks of all go to our boy Tim, who is a gifted oarsman, put us on shots all day, and made the most of his own casting opportunities when he got his chances. Made me proud to run with the likes of those young guns.

I'm headed east, to Wisconsin, then Michigan. Anyone have the fishing report?

Deeter

Congratulations to Marvin Green of Porterville, California, who caught this pending IGFA world record cutthroat trout (11 pounds, 1 ounce) on a woolly bugger at Nevada's Pyramid Lake. Green caught the fish on April 21. Pyramid Lake is responsible for six of seven tippet class world records for cutthroat trout.

A lot like Lake Diefenbaker in Saskatchewan, where Adam and Sean Konrad have redefined IGFA benchmarks on rainbow trout, including this 43.6-pound all-tackle record caught last June.

I don't want to be the guy who pees in the Cheerios (but I will). Don't you think there's something out-of-whack by counting "world records" when they're caught out of a "hog pen" body of water? The Diefenbaker fish are triploid mutants that escaped from a fish farm, for example. Kinda like "Hogzilla," you know the pen raised piggie that became an urban legend when someone shot it, just outside the fence. You can draw your own conclusions about Pyramid Lake. In no way am I questioning the skill or motives of the anglers. If I had a chance at hooking fish like these, I'd take it. And then call it what it is. A really big fish.

But not a world record. Michael Phelps sets world records. Asafa Powell and Usain Bolt set world records. Ben Johnson once set world records, but they were negated when everyone clued in on the fact that he was a doper. I say fish that grow up in the hog pen waters, from trout-chomping bass in the lakes in Southern California (this is where the next world record bass will be caught), to fish farm escapees in a Canadian reservoir, to hand-fed carp in Farmer Jones' pond are all dopers also.

And those people who want to count them as world records... well, they're just dopes.

Deeter

Having just returned from the "Daddy of them All," the Cheyenne Frontier Days Rodeo, I was struck by the following:

Exiting the PBR event, I noticed a small bunch of Angus and Herefords on a street corner with a sign that read "LET-P... Livestock for the Ethical Treatment of People." (If you've watched Professional Bull Riding up close, that makes sense.)

When an apparel company owns flyfishing the way Wrangler jeans owns rodeo, then I'll be impressed.

We should name flies after rodeo bulls... tough, gritty names like "Brass Knuckles," "Bounty Hunter," "Born to Boogie," and "Bad Breath." My personal favorite is "Liquid Kitty." I'm gonna cheer for Liquid Kitty from now on, and when I invent that killer fly, I'm calling it the Liquid Kitty.

There is a pro bull rider named Ryan Dirteater, I kid you not. Now that is supreme confidence. I'm thinking of changing my name to Kirk Waterflogger.

Pretty women in chaps v. pretty women in Gore-Tex waders. To me, still a toss-up.

I don't want to be a fish pundit anymore. I want to be a "fish-fighter." Like those guys who save the cowboys from getting stomped on after they get thrown off the bulls. They call them bullfighters. And they get right up in the faces of those ticked off bulls and tease them. I think I could do that with trout. You're fighting the fish, it gets off, and I'll run out there in the middle of the run and wave my hand over the water, just to be sure the trout swims away from you.

I will say this, those rodeo cowboys are dirt tough, and it's really worth checking out a rodeo event sometime when you get the chance. Great fans.

Deeter

Nothing, I mean nothing, beats a great day in a float tube. I'm still amazed how tough it is to sell some people on stillwater flyfishing.

I recently spent a morning at Spinney Reservoir in South Park, Colorado, with my good friend Charlie Meyers, who snapped these photos. We had to work hard for the fish, but they were all cookie-cutter bows in that just-under 20 inch range. Ate damsel flies, and callibaetis nymphs.

If you haven't been belly boating yet this summer, take the time and do it. You'll be pleased.

Deeter