Outside Days » American

Striped Bass on the Frozen Fly

Howard — Sun, 26 Apr 2009 07:00:58 +0000

Ok so I found myself in Dallas, TX with a couple of days to spare. Having fished for stripers on the eastern seaboard with very little to show for it, I couldn’t resist going to see these landlocked fish. At least I knew where they would be. I headed for Lake Texoma, 89,000 acres (141,000 when it floods) of man-made lake on the Oklahoma and Texas borders 75 miles north of Dallas. Built by the Corps of Engineers, Texoma was impounded in 1944, with parts of the dam being constructed by prisoners of war, as a hydropower reservoir and to control flood events on the Red and Washita rivers.

I was joining a man with the reputation of being the best fly guide on the lake, Steve Hollensed. Having rushed the pancakes and bacon at IHOP, I met Steve on the boat ramp at 7am, with the wind easing to a gentle force 3 or 4, and the temperatures a balmy -3C. Texoma is famous for it’s striped bass. Voracious feeders, stripers are fast-growing and long-lived and have reaching 10 to 12 inches in the first year and attaining weights over 40 pounds. Like other bass, they move in schools, and all members of the school tend to feed at the same time. In the summer, the fish start a surface blitz at 6am, chasing shoals of shad up to the surface, and think nothing of covering 10 or 12 miles in a morning. Steve showed me pictures of his fish-finder screen almost completely blacked out by the number of fish beneath his boat. All this surface action is like catnip to a flyfisherman…especially as so few have discovered the delights of Texoma.

Unfortunately, the plains wind of Rogers and Hammerstein’s lyrics doesn’t make for ideal fishing for man, bird or bass, and the fish had hunkered down on the lake bottom for the day. If I tell you I was breaking ice from my rod rings every second or third cast, it will give you some idea of how…challenging the conditions were. America’s famous for innovation, sporting and otherwise, but the flies here were much the same as those I use for saltwater bass off the UK coast (admittedly an American invention): chartreuse clousers and bucktail streamers. I was so engrossed in my pursuit that it was 11 o’clock (when I had stopped my routine of two or three casts and then crack off the ice), before I realised we were almost alone on this enormous lake. None of the locals it seemed were brave or stupid enough.

Steve didn’t want to admit defeat after bragging about Texoma, the striper capital of Texas, but I think even he at this point had said all his prayers, crossed all his digits and was starting to think the worst. Having done my fair share of guiding I knew how he felt. Then there was a little resistance on the line, not quite like the bottom, but not the hard hit of a bass. Convinced it was a catfish (although why I thought that as I have never caught one let alone on a fly I’m not sure), I casually retrieved line. Bang! My rod bent double, line screaming off the reel. In short order, I had landed my first striper on the fly, no monster, but still a striper of about 3 1/2 lbs and a good reason to call it a day without disgrace.

I have some business to settle with those bass anyone free in July?

Texas Deja View: Part 3

Howard — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 07:10:39 +0000

Hospitality is served on an all-you-can-eat platter in Texas. From the classic 50′s diner to roadside cajun dives to the extravagance of homemade EVERYTHING at the lodge, you’ll never stick to that diet in the Lone Star state. Between varmint, hogs and quail, this trip is nonstop, so fuel for the hunter is essential. Paul, the resident lodge chef (and Texas’ only rugby fan), produced a different cooked breakfast every day, only surpassed by his lunches and evening meals. He even understood that tea is a beverage best served hot, and not necessarily sweet.

Our winged quarry was the bobwhite quail, a small bird with an enormous range. You find them from Mexico east to Florida, and from the midwest and northeast south to the coast wherever there are areas of young forest regeneration – what in Africa they call the forested savannah. Like our red grouse, the birds form coveys of 2 to 30 outside of the breeding season (October to April). Released quail can be hunted for 12 months of the year.

If you are a fan of walked up grouse or partridge, these are a bird for you. They flush like little pocket rockets, the covey emerging from the grass in a starburst, wings humming, to skim over the grass and away. Small, unpredictable, and as likely to flush at 20 metres as under the dog’s nose, quail are good fun whatever the season.

From Our Foreign Correspondents: Fishing North Carolina

Jennifer — Sun, 15 Jun 2008 14:14:33 +0000

Friends from home (the American south) are adept at keeping me in the loop and homesick! Gene (more affectionately known as Bubba) loves his fishing and his whisky, and just as soon as he gets his passport, we expect him to be joining us on Scottish lochs, Hampshire banks and anywhere the fishing is fine. Until then, we will have to join him (vicariously in this case) streamside in the States.

The Nantahala makes Trout Unlimited’s top 100 American trout waters, having a diversity of stream types and species as well. Gene was fishing in a stretch of hatchery supported waters with native brook trout and introduced brown and rainbow all reproducing naturally. As the sign in the photograph indicates, the fishery is fly only and catch and release from October through June.

“I had to get a non-resident 10-day license and a special trout license – year-round,” says Gene. He was fishing with wet, “brown stonefly, brown woolyworm and chartreuse beaded inchworm- little early for that, but it worked” and dry flies, “sulfur dun, caddis, really anything mayfly like in the afternoon – size of fly (wet and dry) came into play a bit, but all worked well.” If your travels take you to the States and you find yourself with a day or two to fill in the itinerary, we can usually find you fishable water and the right fluff to flick. (Jennifer)