Think Didymo is only a New Zealand Problem?

A great post on Orvis News website. Maryland's didymo infestation.
Worth the time to watch.
http://www.orvisnews.com/FlyFishing/Video-A-Didymo-Diary.aspx

Cameras For sale

Video Camera
Sony HDR-HC1
It's an older model of video camera but is perfect for anyone who wants to get into video. This camera had a few features that the new cameras don't - external mic jack, manual focus ring, manual light compensation. It was used for several years, has been to NZ and back a few times. It was cleaned and serviced each year on Sony's exteneded warranty program and we made sure it worked. We have not used it the past year but should last another year or more easily. Heck the mini dv tapes were $6 a piece alone and the batteries about $95 a piece. Would be great for a back up field cam for bigger projects or a good starting point for someone with not a lot of $ invested.
Includes:
Sony HDR-HC1 vid camera
Polarizing filter
Lens hood
2 x 4 hr batteries & Charger
23 x 60 min Maxell Mini DV tapes
$400
Also

We have a couple of p&s cameras here that we won't use again and we'll toss them both in together.
Canon SX110Is and Canon 100IS. The 110 is newer and takes great shots still and the 100 is still ok (but not 100% and why we're tossing it in the deal!).
They are both discontinued p&s cameras but could be good to someone as a cam to keep in the waders pocket.
There's an 8G card in the one - I'll look around the tickle trunk for other cards we might have.
$80 takes both. I'm in Red Deer.

If interested, email me: info@flyfishalberta.com           

Responding and clarifying

Earlier today, I received a comment (anonymous of course) to our previous blog post:
"I'm continually confused Dave, you continually indicate how little the fish matter to you, or how you could care less about showing photos of you with fish. Yet almost all posts are with at least one obligatory grip and grin, and a mention of how many fish and how many lbs they were... Who are you lying to other than yourself, if it wasn't about the fish, your blog would have 1/10th of the photos. Perhaps you should re-evaluate your motives or at least be honest about them."
I thought about simply replying in the comments section, but got to thinking that maybe it was time to share a piece of us - for clarification:

Thanks for the reply to our blog post. I’m a fly fisher who loves trout and almost only trout on the fly. All I really do in life is fly fish or immerse myself in fly fishing. All I really want to do is fly fish, and share that aspect of life with others. So many people in my life have commented that we're 'living the dream'; our 'priorities are right'; 'how can I sign up for your life'. I spend about 10 months a year doing it. 95% of our time in NZ was spent fly fishing 8 to 15 hrs a day. I’m relatively good at it - and in a coming blog post you'll understand just how Amelia's progressed. And, what would a fly fishing blog be without at least a photo of a fish?

Here's the rub though. You’re going to have results that some are going to be envious of when you set up your life dedicated to one thing. We don’t have kids, no dog, little mortgage on our house now. We are free to do it as often as we choose - and that's often. Few have that freedom until they are 60 years old.

Honestly, the sizes of trout are the sizes of the fish that swim the waters we fish. What I mean when I type mentioning size is an amazement that such fish exist, that we’re catching them as part of the package that we are engulfed in when fly fishing. We're often taken aback of where the huge fish come out of - how can such a big fish come from that small a water? The creek we fished this year that had double digit fish was honestly shockingly small and tight.

I think what happens when someone who hasn’t had the experience of New Zealand or the Red Deer R / Central Alberta browns, Fortress Lake, or the Ram R cutts that we have, some folks see the big fish that we tend to catch as bragging or trying to one up the next person. I’ve intentionally not posted the biggest fish of this year’s New Zealand trip on this blog or our Facebook page, like the 10 – 12 pound rainbows, the 5 straight weeks of catching at least one 8 lb brown daily, the LOOK AT ME stuff that would stand out, the kind you see from people who show off their biggest catches in New Zealand. I intentionally did not mention the 3 weeks straight AJ caught every single fish she lined up on. By and large, I try to balance the sharing of a few nice fish - certainly not the biggest of particular trips - with other facets of the fishing. In looking back at the blog, the order of priority in the photos has been the scenery, then a few fish. And, again, by New Zealand standards, the fish shown in the blog are by no means big by New Zealand standard. In fact, 4 - 6 pound fish barely meet average criteria. Hence, most grip & grins of me or AJ with such a fish is just sharing the enjoyment of the moment. What I truly believe is that because others see the big fish (relative to their experience) they project onto me/AJ that we’re all about the big fish. As AJ said on this year’s trip to NZ, "you can’t not catch an 8 lb brown every day". As I said to her "so", and then we came upon a cool weka colony. And, when it comes to counting, I haven't counted fish since I last bothered to count to 100+ cutts on the Ram in 1999. I can tell you we caught a ton or a few, generally, or AJ could tell you how many rainbows we caught one special day in New Zealand, but that's honestly about it.

What people reading our blog or Facebook page miss is the 2 hrs spent on one fish to get the perfect photo or video of it holding or feeding, that the time spent trying to get video of a fantail hopping from limb to limb surpasses the time spent fishing to a trout; the 2 days we spent within a week of getting home from NZ this winter - we skied in the Ram canyon to get what will likely be less than 2 minutes on a Ram R video we’re working on; that the time to access a water is greater than the time spent fishing it; that the setting of a place where we’re good enough to find is more gorgeous and valuable than the 8lb rainbow that we might catch there.

We realize in life that how people perceive what is shared here is usually a projection onto us rather than what we are sharing. And when you’re good at something and spend some time doing it in places that sometimes have bigger fish, some folks are going to get envious and project negatively. We can’t control that. Did you catch last summer’s post on the wee cutts? Did you ever notice we used to spend a lot of time doing golden trout trips - all 4 to 11" of them? And, scanning back through the blog I can't help but notice that about 70% of the photos aren't fish pics. In fact, since mid January, there are less than a dozen photos of me personally with a fish. That too is intentional because I know there are some folks out there with the misconception I have an "ego the size of Manhattan". Ever since I began the old Fly Fish Alberta forum, which garnered 11M hits a month by the time we closed shop, my intention was to share and evoke discussion. Those two things had some folks project that I was an ego maniac that thrived on conflict. The plot was so often missed, but I do take ownership that I did not realize that people were projecting me to be that. I could have changed the presentation.

An important consideration is that this blog is simply to share. The photos on this blog and on our Facebook page – in case anyone has ever wondered – are to act as a winter encouragement and break for those that come here. We try to share our best photos – ‘best’ being either our favorite moments or composition, little of which has to do with fish size. If we only wished to share our biggest fish, you would have certainly seen pictures of the fish I mentioned above. I haven't shared many photos of trout above 8lbs deliberately, as, having hosted the old Fly Fish Alberta Forum, I know that many folks wind up getting envious and express that in negativity rather than enjoying a respite through our photos and videography.

We take a ton of photos – to the tune of about 250 a day on average. When in New Zealand we fish / photo / video daily. What you don’t see is the 2.5 hrs at the end of the day, after supper, lying in the back of our van - exhausted - we take those 2.5 hrs to sort, delete, catalog the photos and videos, so that when we get home we can produce things like the Sight Fishing Trout Rivers dvd that we’re about to release – things like that in order to enhance people’s experiences and encourage others. Like the freely shared photos and tales on this blog and our Facebook page. Behind the scenes there are so many things at play, so much work. We enjoy it. We see our life as a gift. We simply want to share that with others, because so many people can’t fish as often as they would like, especially in winter when we are so fortunate to be able to travel to New Zealand. And as we fish often, we simply want to share that gift of our life - which derived from our decision to live our life this way 15 years ago - with people like yourself. And our choice in life is a huge benefit to us now, there are many blessings. But, the downside of it will impact us later in life when we don't have the pensions others have, nor the grand kids. Who might be the envious person then? Hopefully we have many friends and connections later in life that will include us, but you never know how life will unfold.

It was interesting to discuss New Zealand with Barry Mitchell of the Alberta Fishing Guide this week. He's been a personal friend for a long time. He's someone who takes the time to not only observe but to clarify his observations and then takes time to understand you, your intentions, your motives, your heart. As we drove around Alberta, he said something to the effect that his perception was that AJ & I started to go to New Zealand because of the big fish and it has been interesting to see us evolve past simply sharing the big fish on our blog. He's seen some of this year's bigger fish that we haven't shared publicly. I pondered about his statement. In honesty, our first trip to New Zealand was 50% trout size and 50% the setting you catch them in, all inspired by the old Red Fisher TV Show that went to NZ back in about 1982. I was as fascinated by that show then as I am to fish NZ today. Fast forward 5 years of travel to NZ and I would say that it's setting & scenery 70%; sight fishing 20% ; our friends in NZ 10%. Size is irrelevant because we're sight fishing in such gorgeous country that allows for such stunning photos and video. But, of course, Barry owning a magazine and understanding the fly fishing world, we had further discussions of many facets of the industry we share and the spin offs of his original perception.

We're quite sensitive about how what we share is perceived and hopefully this clarifies some of that. Of course, now someone will take what is written here as "Jensen thinks he's a better fly fisher than everyone else", but obviously that's not what I'm saying. But you can't control these things in life. All we can do is share who we are honestly, and address a projection someone has of us when it arises. So, thank you for your comments. I hope that you understand what this is all about. Thank you for your feedback that has allowed for some clarification. :)

Just to share

It's funny how things go. When you travel to fly fish for 3 months or spend extended times doing it, at some point it becomes like a job - you're there to do it but after a month just the act of taking another step gets arduous. Rolling out of bed puts another hour of sleep against a potential 10 lb brown... or... more apt to us... the potential of the perfect video of that 10 lb brown. The fish aren't the hilight of my fly fishing. That's an odd thing to say. The act of catching a fish falls down the list of why we fish. The scenery, the water, the exercise of access, the hope for amazing light, the optics of seeing fish cruising, neat streamside insects, time lapse video of clouds, birds, old farm buildings, and so many more things combine to set that stage upon which we are supposed to focus solely on catching a fish? No, the fish is part of a package.
And so it was one day later in our trip that we found ourselves on a river ripe with browns 4 to 10 pounds. We had walked in on the Trans Alpine rail line to a bridge 5 or 6 km down. We had to hop off the rail line twice as the rumble behind us suggested that would be a good idea. The blue streak of the train blurred by as folks on the outside car waved as we cuddled up to matagouri and bush lawyer - each of which have spikes 1 to 4 cm long. Cuddly bears, those.
The day went off extremely well. AJ nailed a couple of hogs, I had fun with fish in the 4 to 6 lb range. She then lowered her standards and caught fish this mortal was catching. We tagged a lot of fish. But the last fish of the day is what caught my attention, and I immediately identified why.
We watched as a brown moved about its cycle of a back water. Done right, slowly moving into position while the fish is cycling the other direction is time consuming but easily done. On glare filled days, such as this was, it takes longer as you can't always see what the fish is doing, where it is going or has disappeared to. But I managed to get into position to cast and sure enough it took the nymph, as most New Zealand cutts - er - browns do on cooler, cloudy days. Once hooked up, it shot out of the back water to the main river and started to hammer downstream. I cranked the hell out of the rod but it was angled downstream and once that angle is established, it's the fish's game to lose. I slowed it down but it went straight into the log works below.
And that's when that moment summed where I was physically and mentally at that point on the trip. We got great video of fish that day. We caught a lot. We had fun on the railway. We saw some neat birds. Amelia was in heaven for a few huge browns. Did I need to land this fish? Nah. So, given that it was not likely to be landed no matter what I did as it was going straight into the logs, I thought to limit the time it would fight me and break it off. I lowered my rod and tightened the line and gave it a solid yank. And again. Neither broke the 2X. I could see the fish rolling in the logs. I again tried to break it off. No. So, I decided that if it wouldn't jerk snap, I'd just strip line like a pully and break it off, given the current and logs and fish would conspire to cause breaking tension. No. Instead, the branch it was wrapped around pulled off and both fish and wrist thick limb were pulled upstream. Both were landed. I'm not sure but it looks like it was likely a 5+ lb brown and likely as heavy stick.

As I sit back in Alberta, waiting for spring to kick a few more risers to the surface, I know I'd do the same again. It's not the end of the world to not catch a fish. If it's a 9" golden trout or a 14 lb brown, a 17" cutt or a 22" rainbow, do you have to land it to enjoy it? In this case, I landed it and was oddly almost disappointed. I was trying to do a good deed by breaking it off but somehow 2X held. So be it, I suppose! I fully enjoyed the day, as did AJ. And that is exactly how it goes after fishing every day. Fully enjoyable and the need or have to have a result certainly gone by the wayside. I find most of my days like that now.

Happy Birthday Barry Mitchell

Well, old friends do get old(er). Barry & I just finished the tour of the province delivering this year's edition of the Alberta Fishing Guide Magazine. It should be in store racks now. Barry's big milestone birthday is today, so if anyone out there wants to call and give him hell for no longer having to buy a fishing license, today's the day.

 

And congrats to Amelia for taking the cover photo of this year's edition of the magazine. It features a nice shot of a central Alberta brown trout.

2 Stupid

We all do dumb things, make stupid mistakes. We leave ourselves wondering "what the hell was that?" from time to time. Some folks do it more often than others, maybe because they're more prone to dumb mistakes or maybe because they're more observant and honest with themselves about those dumb mistakes. Thankfully, I'm not too prone to dumb mistakes but I certainly do 'em right when I do - and I am too observant to miss them. I also have a memory like an elephant - I don't forget my dumb mistakes. My biggest dumb mistake in life was in high school. The fad at the time was to wear boxer shorts and nothing else on my legs. I was one of the cool kids, walking around school in nothing but boxers. I'll clarify, I was pretty cool until after school, at the bus terminal where a few hundred people were milling about waiting for various bus connections. My girlfriend & I hopped off our bus and we had a little make out session to say "good-bye" for the day. The stupidity of the mistake of wearing only boxer shorts to school was soon, uh, obviously apparent. My error was looking right up at me. The topper was that they were white boxers with little red hearts on them. They had been loose fitting 5 minutes earlier. In hindsight, I'm still not sure how I gracefully exit that one. Of course, there is the obvious, pro-active answer. But try telling that to someone in grade 12.

So, enter 2 stupid mistakes on this year's trip to New Zealand. In fact, day two of the trip brought stupid move #1. Amelia was lined up on a nice fish in a shallow, gravel trough. I was on camera and so set up the tri-pod to film. She closed things on her end and the footage wonderful. But the fish turned and came downstream and she followed, coming past me. I moved out of the way and stepped backwards. And, of course, I heard a crushing, popping sound of a really nice Helios 4 wt rod. It was the only rod we broke this year, but having it happen on day #2 is stupid, especially since the obvious preventative answer was to put the backpack on the ground and lean the rod against it.

Oddly enough, stupid move #2 happened on the 2nd last day of the trip. Before flying to New Zealand we ordered a raft from China. We were told that the raft would be shipped by boat the next day and arrive within 5 to 7 business days to CHCH. With that kind of promise, I wondered if the money was gone, or, if the boats did arrive, would it be a Wal-Mart special. It took considerable effort, emails, tele calls, but the rafts did arrive 4 days before we went home, over 3 months post - ordering. Our raft is now waiting for next year's trip. There's a hitch, of course. We took our raft out for a spin on a river near our friends' place. The first was a short float on a nice, summer day with him. It was wonderful. The next day we took her out on a section of water above what we'd done previous. It too was a wonderful float. In fact, we were beside ourselves for how amazing a piece of water was right beside where we'd been so many times. The river was in prime shape, the rapids just perfect, everything was just amazing, really.

And as we came out of the open gorge, there was a short rapid with 4 or 5 waves of about 2 or 3 feet. At left of the first wave was a log poking up, so my plan was to have us paddle over the first wave and skirt left to avoid the bigger water to the right as it was covered in willows. No sense in needlessly testing the raft's sturdiness on willow branches in the rapids. But as we drew near, the log at left began to look a little 'off'', 'not quite right', different somehow. The first wave looked great through - a big, white roller with a beautiful wave to have some fun and roll through. About 4m up from the wave, the log at left wasn't a log - it was a metal post of an old guard rail sticking right out of the water. As we made that discovery, the boat came up and over the big, white roller - which should have been amazing. It was amazing. As Sharron came over the rock, mid air, she saw another big metal post - hidden under the wave. And then the raft simply came down with a thud onto it. And we were stuck - harpooned and sitting like a donut with a stick in the hole in the middle of a rapid. We stood up sideways and rocked and pulled. In 10 seconds or so we were able to un-harpoon the boat from the post. But, instead of floating away from the hazard, as I sat back to paddle, my end wedged up. I was now on yet another metal post of a guard rail stuck in another rock in the rapid. This time I pushed off the rock wall beside me and we drift off. We got to shore and walked back upstream. All along the opposite side of the river, tucked under the waves and in the willows, were old guard rail posts with 2" cable running through. Clearly, the old hwy had sloughed in and the railing wedged into the river bottom.

It was a stupid mistake. Our raft has a pretty good tear through the pillowed floor. It can be repaired, but having it happen on the second float on the second last day of our trip - not something we hooped for. But the mistake was obvious and a good lesson to learn. Given how often and voraciously rivers flood in New Zealand, no matter how much you get into the rhythm and feel of a river, never take anything for granted. Farmers lose hundreds of KM of fenceline and thousands of fenceposts each year to flooding rivers, and at any time and any place they might stack up and cause one heck of a river hazard. Thankfully we always play the safest route and float rivers that are likely to fish well, meaning we avoid class 5 rivers. But in all these years of guiding and floating rivers, I've never come across a 500 m section of river with 30 or 40 guard rail posts stuck into rocks facing upstream, all connected by 2" cable like that. In fact, this is the first hole I've ever put in any inflatable boat - and we've owned quite a number of them.
As we said upon getting out and looking - even if we'd gotten out and looked at the first post, we wouldn't have seen the others in the waves as they were completely hidden by the waves. Had we looked though, my hunch is that we would have walked that boat around 'just in case' given what we saw downstream. It wasn't a hard paddle, not a scary river - in fact it was a fun river. Who knew? But it opened our eyes to the hazards waiting in New Zealand rivers. Waaaaay too much farming to go blindly into any other river. Why is this a stupid mistake? I think we've only walked about 5,000km of rivers in NZ - you think we'd have put 2 & 2 together to figure out that there might be a few hazards due to flooding and earthquakes in NZ.

Snow Data

In flying home last week, it sure looked like we are barren of snow. Calgary had so little, there was almost nothing to ski on in Red Deer. But, looking at the snow data for the mountains - it was surprising to see that all the reporting stations, but one, are all showing at normal to slightly above normal ranges. For the lack of snow east of hwy #22, the waters with fingers into the upper foothills should be in good shape. Of course, this is the time of the year that we tend to get a few good snow storms too, so hopefully we get a little more out east. There again, we're a month out from the April 1 opening on some low elevation waters, so maybe a holding pattern - or a good melt - might be nice too.
See the latest snow levels:
http://environment.alberta.ca/apps/basins/Map.aspx?Basin=8&DataType=4

A really cool bug story

This one hit my Facebook Feed and it's a really neat article to read:
http://www.npr.org/blogs/krulwich/2012/02/24/147367644/six-legged-giant-finds-secret-hideaway-hides-for-80-years?ft=1&f=1001