The epic tail…er…tale of Steelie Dan
February 16, 2007 by JD
Filed under Fishing Stories
Aiming for the bright light above, the little guy — we’ll call him “Dan” — struggled through the pile of gravel where his mother had buried him several weeks before.
As he reached the top of the stones, Dan poked his tiny little head into the light, and without warning, he was rudely greeted by a swift current.
Just in time for the Big Game…
You know it had to happen…
NFL licensing has found its way into the tackle stores and you can now be the very proud owner of team lures such as this fine 3/8-ounce Chicago Bears spinnerbait — perfect for largemouth bass and coastal reds (ebay item number: 120082647121) or, if you’re a Colts fan, check out the Indy Spinner, which should work well for lakers (the fish, not the basketball team), pike and steelies (ebay item number: 120082967799).
What’s that you say…your team didn’t make it to the Super Bowl? No worries, mate!
A day in the life of Biscut Eater
January 30, 2007 by JD
Filed under Fishing Stories
Biscuit Eater could sense something big was about to happen.
There was a nervous electricity in the water and all the others of his kind seemed to be jittery. A low,
metallic sound was emanating from the far end of the concrete lane he’d called home for his entire life. The sound was soft at first but it was getting louder by the second. Something unfamiliar…
Now, that’s a Lunker!
January 23, 2007 by JD
Filed under Fishing Stories
Forget tarpon, steelhead, bones or peacocks.
If you’re truly looking for some real sport with the ol’ fly rod, give paedocypris progenetica a shot this winter.
Lurking in the wonderfully steamy peat wetlands of Southeast Asia, paedocypris progenetica, is , according to scientists, the world’s smallest fish. The tiny critters average under 8 millimeters in length, though some lunkers to nearly 9 millimeters possible — if you know where to look (My insider sources tell me that Borneo is a good place to begin your quest for HAWGS).
A Steelhead for Thanksgiving
November 23, 2006 by JD
Filed under Fishing Stories
He got the idea from a Zane Grey novel he had read a year prior. It was just a passing phrase in which Grey, who spent a good chunk of his time in a cabin on the Rogue River in Oregon, mentioned something about killing a steelhead for Thanksgiving dinner. The old man didn’t think much about it at first, but then the thought of a steelhead instead of a turkey began to intrigue him.
Don’t be Too Quick to Judge!
November 16, 2006 by JD
Filed under Fishing Stories
As I was filleting salmon for some successful clients one morning along the banks of the lower American River, a lady I did not recognize walked up to me. I could tell from her attire that she had been jogging along the bike trail. Apparently, she’d seen me cleaning fish and came over to investigate. Her scowl told me her visit wasn’t going to be a pleasant one.
I looked back down at the issue at hand and finished removing two beautiful fillets from the salmon and then I took its carcass and tossed it back into the river. At that point, the woman decided she need to stick her nose where it had no business going.
Freight Train on the Line
September 5, 2006 by JD
Filed under Fishing Stories
I love fall king salmon fishing. The epic takedowns you get on Kwikfish; the autumn colors along the river; the crisp nights and warm days; the bobber downs, big head shakes and long runs. There’s nothing quite like it. Just imagine sitting there…watching the river go by…and then THUNK…PUMP…PUMP! Your rod tip gets jerked down several times. Hard. At first, you’re taken aback by the violent nature of the act. The strike is about as subtle as a slap across the face with a wet hand on a 32-degree day and you sit there, momentarily stunned.
You rod continues to buck wildly. If you sit there dazed and out of it any longer, the monster’s going to get away. But, a little voice in the back of your head starts getting through. Pal…hey buddy…youhoo…
WAKE UP!!
You snap to and rear back mightily on the rod. The hook set is true and you can feel the beast surge downriver like a loaded Southern Pacific headed down the Colfax Grade. You try to slow the fish’s streaking run by putting pressure on the rapidly-revolving spool with your thumb. SSSSSSSINGE!! You jerk your hand away from the reel like you’d touched an electric fence. Don’t worry — the pain will go away…in about week. No time to suck that thumb now, though — you’ve gotta hang on for dear life.
Only moments ago, you were being lured into a drowsy-God-ain’t-this-the-greatest-way-to-spend-a-day sleep by the gentle rocking of the boat, but now — now, your heart is pumping at light speed like you just downed a double espresso and chased it with a Jolt Cola.
Juneau Fishing Mission
August 19, 2006 by JD
Filed under JD's roadtrips, Where to fish
I just got home from a week-long road trip and I think I may have found some of the best fishing on the planet. That is if you like yanking on halibut until your arms feel like they’re full of wet cement and hooking so many coho salmon that it seems a little like bluegill fishing out of a 5-gallon bucket.
And the best part of the deal is this angling paradise is relatively close.
My base of operations was Juneau, which is a short 3-hour flight from Sacramento, with a stop in Seattle. On assignment for Fish Alaska Magazine, my orders were to explore and report back on the fishing opportunities available in the waters within easy striking distance of Alaska’s capitol city.
Read more
No Bananas!
June 19, 2006 by JD
Filed under Fishing Stories
If I were the producer of the TV show Fear Factor, I’d skip all the tired bug and guts eating stunts and instead have my contestants walk onto a charter fishing boat with bananas in their lunch coolers. Then, I’d just sit back and watch the fireworks.
In case you’re unaware, bananas on fishing boats are considered bad luck and most skippers take this superstition very, very seriously.
Steelhead Abuse!
April 21, 2006 by JD
Filed under JD's roadtrips, Where to fish
It’s no secret that steelhead anglers are a masochistic lot.
Those of us who are card-carrying members of this freakish society will — gladly, I may add — stand chest-deep in frigid water for hours on end in inhospitable weather, casting thousands of times with frost-bitten, roe-slathered fingers to fish that often seem only to exist in our dreams.