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Live Fly Tying Guest: Matt Callies

We are excited to announce that Matt Callies, Fly Tyer extraordinaire, and Loon Product developer, will be taking over the Flylords Instagram feed for a live Tying Session. The Event will be held tomorrow June, 14th. At 9pm EST.

An excerpt from This is Fly Magazine, gives Matt a great intro. We will link the full article at the end of the blog.

Matt was born in Southern California, about 600 miles south of the habitat for which he was designed.  He began fishing for bass in the water hazards of golf courses and when he moved up the coast in search of Sasquatch and a lifestyle that fit his self-proclaimed “dread-neck” nature, fly fishing for trout captured his imagination.  He began tying because “flies are spendy” and moved into his truck because “houses are spendy too”, and real estate only got in the way of chasing fish.  The fly fishing industry offered Matt a safe method of re-introduction to civilization.

When he decided he was ready he did so first as a contract tyer, then guide, then as a sales rep.

Like many accomplished anglers, Matt has a natural ability to think like fish and has mastered classic techniques with very little coaching, a lot of practice and a ton of intuition.  But what sets Matt apart is his ability to completely rethink everything.  EVERYTHING.   Every technique, every tool, every piece of gear, every component of a fly… everything.  It’s not because he is defiant or exercising a need to be original; it’s because his brain (which, remember, is calibrated to think like a fish) never, ever stops.  EVER.  Ideas flow constantly, and when he articulates them as they come to him you realize that the baseline flow of ideas in Matt’s brain would feel like flood stage for the rest of us.  Luckily, the rest of us can rely on Matt to harness the undammed current of ideas and show us what he came up with.

 Check out some of Matt’s favorite patterns:

Link to the full article: https://loonoutdoors.com/journals/this-is-fly/

 

A Native Odyssey: The Apache Trout

This article was first published on the TU Blog: www.tu.org

Also, make sure to follow the Odyssey through TU Costa 5 Rivers Blog and Instagram

Public Land:
Mt. Baldy Wilderness Area, Apache National Forest.

Entering the Mt. Baldy Wilderness Area.

The Mt. Baldy Wilderness, in the Apache National Forest, is easily accessed at the Sheep’s Xing parking lot. From there, hikers, campers, and fishermen alike can follow the Little Colorado River that parallels the main trail. As one gradually climbs higher in elevation, beautiful meadows break up the mountainous terrain. Paper Birch trees stick out like sore thumbs against the dense Ponderosa Pine forest. There are many backcountry campsites just off of the trail, and it is not hard to find a spot protected by tree cover right beside the stream. This wilderness area is teeming with wildlife, and elk can be seen in large numbers throughout the forest. Native to Arizona, Apache trout thrive in the high elevation water that the Little Colorado River provides.
-Matt Crockett

Native Trout:
Apache Trout.

Brett fooled this Apache trout with a large hopper pattern.

Three native trout species call the American southwest home. One of these species is the Apache Trout. Formerly referred to as “yellow bellies,” these trout are only found in the White Mountains of eastern-central Arizona, very close to the New Mexico border. More specifically, these trout only inhabit the headwaters of the Little Colorado and Salt Rivers, where small pools, undercuts, and fallen pines provide ample hiding and feeding areas. In the late 1800s and early 1900s, settlers of the area could reportedly bag one to two hundred fish on a good afternoon. However, fishing for Apache trout has become a lot more challenging as of late, due to a decrease in suitable habitat. Habitat degradation of the “yellow bellies” can mainly be attributed to timber harvest, livestock grazing, road construction, water diversions, dams and the introduction of non-native trout species. Currently, there are approximately 28 populations of Apache trout in 170 miles of habitat, compared to the 680 miles of their historical range.

Apache trout mostly inhabit isolated headwater streams, and they have become very susceptible to the warming climate along with its byproducts. Wildfires are one of the biggest dangers to Apache trout populations, as a large wildfire may contaminate clean water with excessive amounts of sediment. Additionally, recent years of severe drought have caused once fertile waters to run low. Snow-packs that were already low have recently dwindled, causing farmers and ranchers to divert any water they can to supply their thirsty crops.

Habitat recovery efforts and proper hatchery practices provide hope for the species. The use of fish barriers downstream of known Apache trout habitat creates a refuge where non-native trout species are barred from entering and taking valuable resources. These barriers provide a relatively simple solution to the issue of non-native species encroaching on Apache trout habitat. Although Apache trout populations thrive in the high elevation headwaters of the Little Colorado and Salt Rivers, they still require some help, and efforts are being made to create more sustainable wild populations. This is where the work of Williams Creek National Fish Hatchery come in to play, as it is the only Apache Trout hatchery in the world. Bradley, who serves as the hatchery manager, has been working with Arizona’s fisheries since 1995 and has been stocking Apache Trout in accordance with the Arizona Game and Fish Department. Luckily, the efforts of the hatchery can create opportunities for recreational Apache Trout fishing in and around the White Mountains. http://www.tu.org/stateofthetrout
-Jacob Lacy

Our Experience:
Heather’s first native trout.

Looking down at the Little Colorado River from the trail above.

I have come to three major conclusions during our Apache trout pursuit. Adjusting to the finesse of trout fishing is much harder than I expected, trout are the most beautiful fish I have ever encountered, and boys smell stinky.

We have spent the past four days pursuing Apache Trout in the Mount Baldy Wilderness Area, located in Arizona. Previous to this experience, the extent of my fly fishing has been with heavier tackle in saltwater settings. Transitioning to this meticulous, stealthy, and quiet form of fishing is everything my loud-clumsy-self struggles with in life. Thankfully, the boys have made great mentors as I explore this new and exciting style of fishing. I learned everything from the difference between a dry fly and a nymph to bow and arrow casting.

Our team fished a small and breathtaking river called the Little Colorado. My initial cast of the trip, I stripped out a bunch of fly line to my feet, preparing to double haul. Everyone laughed at me. I quickly learned that high-sticking is an essential practice in small rivers, that are loaded with structure along the bank. Over the next few days, the group found success using dry flies and dry-dropper rigs. An assortment of Apache trout was caught ranging from small to smaller. Each fish glowed beautifully with their golden tones.

In the final hour of the final day, I found success. I crept my way forward to a deep run that formed a cut bank, as the rest of the crew watched with anticipation. I cast my dry-dropper upstream and patiently watched as it flowed down the river. Boom! The moment we had all been waiting for had finally arrived. My dry fly submerged under water indicating that a trout had snatched my nymph and the fish was on! My first wild trout is in the books, and hopefully, there are much more to come during our journey.
-Heather Harkavy

A Perfect Day Trout Fishing in Colorado

My boyfriend, Dylan Mendoza, guides out of Colorado during the Summer months. I drove up with him away from the Texas heat to get him moved back in and spend some time fishing his “home away from home” waters.

All the rivers were running high and looked like chocolate milk besides a tributary of the Roaring Fork, so we stuck to it and had loads of fun sight casting to all different sized browns and rainbows. After getting squeezed out of our spot from surrounding anglers inching in towards our honey hole stretch, we decided to cross the river and head downstream a bit. On our walk down we saw plenty of fish, but Dylan waved me over and pointed to a toad of a rainbow. He was sitting in about 2 feet of water, tops, his size and unique coloring clear as day, about 3 feet off the bank.

Dylan told me to get him, so I stripped some line out and got after it. My first drift was sloppy so I re-casted and sure enough, that next drift, we both watched his body slightly move and his big ol’ mouth open to eat our size 24 midge.

He put up a pretty good fight, took us on a couple good runs, and we laughed through the whole process of getting him to the net. We snapped a couple iPhone grip and grin pictures then let the beast be on his way. Followed by smiles and high fives, we both looked at one another and said that was a pretty good note to end the day with. So we packed up and headed back to the cabin where we reminisced about our day over an ice cold beer.

 For more content from Grace make sure to check her out on Instagram @gracedauzat

5 Tips: Catching Smallmouth On The Fly

In this blog entry, Nolan highlights 5 important tips for targeting Smallmouth on the fly during the summer months. Recently, Nolan has been catching some huge fish and we wanted to find out what his secret was.

#1 Concentrate on River Fishing In the Summer

I find that I do the majority of my summer smallmouth fishing in rivers and creeks, where these fish head to, to avoid warmer stiller waters.

#2 Look for the Muddy Water:

Muddy water is key for big fish. Although clear to slightly stained water can produce numbers, fooling big fishing in dark water is much easier.

#3 Don’t strip too fast!

 

Slow down your presentation, fish want an easy meal. Slowly twitching a black streamer or leech is deadly..You will be surprised what you might run into.

#4 Target Structure

 

Fish structure or runoff (deep pools) especially when the water temp is on the rise.  Smallies tend to stay in the colder water and feed in the deeper runoffs.

#5 Big Flies Don’t Mean Big Fish…

Big flies do NOT always mean big fish, small realistic patterns (crawfish, leeches, stoneflies, small bait fish) tend to get a bit more often.

Side Note- when fish aren’t taking streamers, try NYMPHING. Big stonefly patterns can do the trick, especially in muddy water.  Orange bead heads on a black stone will move fish

For more great content from Nolan make sure to check him out on Instagram @dahlberg.digital!

High Country Bliss

A fly rod truly has become the tool to find my “Bliss”. Being that flyfishing is something with endless creativity and absolutely no boundaries. You can choose to fish hundreds of species, in all different environments, in countless ways. Exploring the high country and the locals that reside in it has truly caught my fascination.

Brook trout and native cutthroats are nature’s absolute masterpiece. Not only are these species dressed to impress, but reside in some of the wildest and magical places on the planet.  Don’t get me wrong I still love targeting banger bows and buck nasty browns in my local freestone and tailwater rivers, but spending the time hiking to such secluded areas often above tree line to find unicorns, is all that I am about.

There is nothing more special then approaching these magical lakes after a long hike, embracing the stillness and the excitement of what now is to come. I have been anxiously waiting for the ice to thaw, and all of my high country treasures to become available. Recently one of my favorite lakes had melted off, with some hot leach patterns off the vice I packed the rig and headed to the trailhead.

We were some of the first tracks to this magical place, and the excitement was overwhelming. Approaching the lake we luckily were blessed with little to no wind, the water was glass… Taking some time to take it in, with all its glory, I began rigging up. Slowly walking the banks looking for cruisers, I didn’t see much activity. All of a sudden I heard what sound like a boulder being dropped into the lake and all I saw was the beautiful rings created from a rising trout in the absolute middle. After a few casts, the line finally went tight. The fight was absolutely incredible, I assumed they would be a wee sluggish after ice off, boy was I wrong. Peeling drag on me on multiple runs, the fish finally came into sight, truly seemed that I hooked up on a fire hydrant. This beautiful specimen was one of the largest cutties I have ever landed, that was absolutely on fire!

We are so blessed to have such special pieces of water on public lands, and it’s our duty to protect them. I charge all of you to play as big of a role as you can in your local conservancies so that we can allow this special gift be given to others… Tight lines ladies and gents, if you need me you can find me in the high country finding my Bliss.

For more content from Justin check him out on Instagram @mountain_nomad
For more beautiful photos check out @eyeofkara

The Gorge Incident

It was a typical late season, early morning in the South Island. Fog lay heavy over the hills but you could see that it was going to burn off once the sun got high enough to do its job. That wouldn’t be for a few hours yet though and until then, it would be cold and very apparent that summer was gone.

I was spending some time on a photoshoot with a cool bunch of guys from Costa Sunglasses and teamed up with Matt Jones for this leg of the trip.

Our mission: To try and get some different takes on chasing some big backcountry browns that NZ is known for.

We had our plan for the day and after stocking up on food, smashing some breakfast and grabbing some coffee’s we got on the road and headed out. As this was our first day on the backcountry shoot, Matt and I thought it would be a good idea to stop off on the way to our chosen river for the day at a particular gorge and see if we couldn’t show the crew a decent glimpse at some typical South Island fish. The great thing about this particular place is that there is a bridge right across the middle of it and this gives you an awesome vantage point from where you can usually watch a few big fish hanging out.

Today was no exception and we got to watch 4 or 5 very good fish swinging around in the current chomping away happily. The main reason there are always fish here is that there is really no way to get a fly to them. No way down to the water from either side and nowhere to fish from if you could get there. The water is deep too, probably 10-15 meters right the way through it and it’s a big river to boot so a lot more flow than it looks from above.

As we stood there and watched, the conversation of how to get a fly in front of them soon came up, and ideas started flowing. The only way we could see it happening was if we could find a way down a little side creek to the edge of the gorge, about halfway up. From there it would be a swim across to the other side where it looked like you might be able to climb onto and over a rock ledge and then get a long cast over to a couple of the fish sitting at the head of the run.

Matt and I said all this kind of tongue in cheek at first but then everyone else seemed to really like the idea of what we were saying and Andy Mann, the photographer was digging the angles from the bridge. So we found ourselves stood over a gorge at 8 in the morning, hatching a plan of how to make this work for real and what to do in the event of any of this actually working out in any way.

This is what we came up with:

Matt and I would bush bash our way down into the side creek somehow and then work our way down and into the gorge.

From there, Matt would climb up onto the top of the gorge cliff on our side and I would take my flies, lanyard, some spare clothes and a towel in a waterproof bag, along with my rod and try to swim straight across to rock ledge we were eyeing up from the bridge above.

If I made that, the plan was to haul myself out of the water and climb over the ledge to a flat spot, where I would change into dry clothes and sort myself out to fish. For anyone that doesn’t know, April in the South Island is cold, a gorge early in the morning before the sun is on it is cold and the water is COLD! Change of clothes was going to be paramount in not getting hypothermia.

If I got that far, then the plan was for Matt to spot for me from his vantage point and guide me on to putting my flies in the right place and if I managed to hook something, then we figured that we would just wing it from there.

With that sorted, Matt and headed off and found our way through the bush and down into the creek and ten minutes later we were down by the river’s edge. It’s amazing how different things look when you are actually on the water. The river looked much bigger, colder and faster than it had from 40 feet above with a coffee in hand. Matt clambered up the side to try and find somewhere to spot from and I sussed my way forward from here. I opted for holding the backpack in one hand and the rod in my mouth which would give me one arm and two legs to try and swim with. I had a few feet swimming in quiet water before I got out into the main flow and wanted to use that to build up some kind of momentum and flow but that went to shit as soon as I got neck deep……the cold took my breath away instantly and I found myself split between just trying to get some air and not sinking straight to the bottom.

I kicked hard, turned onto my back and went for it. Once I hit the main flow, it became obvious how fast the water actually was and I found myself further downstream than I wanted to be straight off the bat. I had one shot at hitting my ledge or else I would be swept down the whole gorge, out the tail and would have to find my way back out and try again. The odd lungful of water and quickly tiring limbs made things a bit more challenging but I kept thrashing and kicking and after what seemed like minutes, I was close to something I could grab hold of to drag myself out of the frigid water.

My fingertips found a bit of rock as my arms stopped working and I dragged myself up and out onto a small ledge. I threw my rod and bag up and over and got myself onto higher ground. I underestimated just how cold it was going to be and dove into the bag and grabbed a towel, got my shirt off and dried myself as best I could. Dry top on and feeling happier about things, I turned my attention to fishing.

I couldn’t see anything from where I was so was totally reliant on Matt, who was perched up high opposite me and had good visibility from his position. We got to work and started getting some good drifts over the fish. A couple of refusals and fly changes and not so easy drifts later and no eats. We went heavier, longer, smaller, bigger and every different combo and then it came together and the indicator sunk and a strike was met with heavy resistance and a flash of silver as a good fish turned on its side and headed deep. We hadn’t really thought this far ahead but before we could start making a plan the fish bolted downstream at a rate of knots. We quickly decided that I would jump in and try to swim back across to Matt’s side where he could get to us with the net.

I sucked it up and leaped as far out as I could in a vain attempt to get a decent head start on my swim. I hit the water, couldn’t breathe and realized that I also couldn’t swim with a rod in my hand and fish dragging my downstream. I kicked and kicked and got pretty much nowhere and then missed my mark and resigned myself to the fact that I was going along for the ride.

My efforts now were split between keeping my head above the water, trying to keep tension on the fish and working out what I was going to do from here. There was one massive rock in the middle of the gorge between me and the tail and the fish had headed straight for it. I drifted close to it and reached out to try and stop myself for a second and regain a bit of composure. Hanging on with one hand, I still had tension on the fish and took a couple of shallow breaths. Matt had started to follow me downstream and was getting closer. I worked my way around the rock a bit to try and get a better angle on it but things had gone a bit too solid. It had wrapped itself around and underneath and although I tried hard to follow it around and get the angle I needed, I was met with that sickening feeling of slack line and game over. From there we drifted down and kicked out our way to the side and out into the shallower water and somewhere that we could get out safely.

High fives and smiles all round despite not winning this round and we worked our way back up to the bridge where everyone was waiting and loving what just went down. An awesome start to the week. All that remained now was for me to go back down to the gorge, swim back across, grab my gear and jump back in and swim my way out again.

By the time I got back up to the bridge, I had a towel and some dry clothes waiting for me, which was more them welcomely received. No fish this time but we did get some cool shots and a memory that will last a lifetime.

For more content from Alex make sure to follow him on Instagram @trippin_on_trout

And for more incredible photos follow @Andy_Mann

A Father-Son Grand Slam in Saltwater Paradise…

A calm breeze kept things cool throughout the week. Slower tides can often mean warm water; however, because of the way the atoll fills up on a pushing tide the warm water generally gets pushed into the lagoon or outside the atoll leaving the flats covered in water that is cool and gin-clear. It is this water that guides look for, “the Spot” can be a relative term, but if you can find good, clean, cold water you find the fish.

Having a father and son on board your skiff can be an emotional and motivational experience. Peter Whittaker and son Kevin Whittaker must have had one of the most incredible weeks fishing that a father and son pairing have ever had on the St. Francois Atoll. Peter finished his week off with two yellow-margin triggerfish, two mustache triggerfish, four sailfish, a gorgeous permit, our biggest GT of the season measuring in at 125cm.

Kevin closed his week off with a massive 73cm permit, two mustache triggerfish, two GT’s, four sailfish and one yellow-margin. One thing to mention however is that mid-week Peter and Kevin had one of those days that will stick with them and us for the rest of our lives. Kevin by lunchtime had landed his permit, a GT, a handful of bonefish and a mustache trigger. This left him with the rest of the day to try to chase down a milkfish to make him our second “Golden Grand Slam” holder in the history of Alphonse, a task he nearly managed but just ran out of time. Peter, however, would not be outdone and managed to get his fly in front of a colossal 125cm GT along with a Permit and a hand full of bonefish for good measure. This meant at the bell ringing ceremony we had a joint father and son “Grand Slam”.

Wayne Osborne was part of the party of three that went on to set a Bluewater sailfish benchmark that we are all very sure will stand for a long time. Wayne, Peter, and Kevin kicked their day off on the flats, being picked up just after lunch for a half-day Bluewater trip. There is no way to beat around the bush about this, ten sailfish! Yes, ten sailfish in an afternoon Bluewater session and all on the fly.

For more content from Kevin check him out on Instagram @kevin.whittaker

To book a trip to Alphonse please get in touch with us theflylords@gmail.com

Video: Dude Ties Fly in River, Then Catches a Fish From the Same Seat….

One of the hardest parts about fly tying is knowing whether or not the fly you just tied will catch fish. There’s really only one way to know right? Why not just tie it where you fish it?

 This video is provided by The Fly Dudes… Make sure to check them out on Instagram @theflydudes, and subscribe to their Youtube Channel Here.

Incredible Slow Motion Footage: Osprey vs Trout

BBC has always set the bar high when it comes to wildlife footage, and their recent release of “Highlands-Scotland’s Wild Heart”, is nothing short of spectacular. Narrated by Ewan McGregor, BBC documents the wildlife of the Scottish Highlands like never before.

One of our favorite scenes comes from the “Spring-Seasons of Extreme” segment and showcases a pouncing Osprey Battling a trout in 800 frames per second. Cameraman Lindsay McCrae spent a solid week trying to accomplish this one shot.

In an excerpt from the BBC website Lindsay was quoted talking about the difficulty of this project:

“You have to be well hidden because the Ospreys won’t tolerate you being there… They want to know they are safe to land in the water.

But it meant I couldn’t have an overhead view to check out the sky and had no idea if there was an osprey overhead. I had an assistant out on a hill watching through binoculars who was on the radio saying: ‘There’s one in the air. Get ready.'”

“You really don’t know where the bird is going to hit the water because you can’t see the fish.”

“You just have to frame an image on a bit of water and hope the Osprey hits that particular bit… And because of the way the camera operates you just have to make a judgment call as to whether it is in the bag, as it takes time for the camera to process. And in that time, if you have missed it, the bird could dive again.

“There are big risks involved and it takes a lot of persistence. But if you get it right, you get spectacular footage.”

To watch the full-length episode from BBC follow this link to their website: http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/p03tmgvv

You can also follow Lindsay on Instagram @badgerboy05

The Olympic Peninsula

The Olympic Peninsula, in all its grandeur, is the gem of the Pacific Northwest. The peninsula is home to a diverse ecosystem that drives the peoples people that call it home and the waters that bless its coast. With the snow-capped peaks that feed the headwaters of a multitude of rivers and creeks, the rain clouds that become trapped within valleys bring forth the ethereal rainforests and the hypnotizing sea stacks that checkerboard the coastal waters.

Pick any direction to explore and you are bound to be in awe of its beauty.

The connection to the Pacific Ocean and the peninsula have been vital to Seattle and the surrounding communities, creating a seafaring culture which is unstoppable by the changing industrial and technological advances within and around the city.  The Olympic Peninsula functions as the glimmer in the urbanite’s eye, inspiring their appreciation for the wonders of the natural world that exist in their backyard.

Although the peninsula’s rural landscape may fool visitors into thinking they have escaped time, the rivers and oceans tell a different story. The salmon that nourish indigenous cultures and give balance to the ecosystem as a whole is in dire straits.  Loss of habitat due to the usual culprits has taken its toll. Decades of unsustainable logging and misplaced hydroelectric projects have worked for hand in hand with hatcheries and over harvest to make these salmon runs a shadow of their former self.

Desperate attempts to stave off the extinction of the most iconic sports fish, the mighty steelhead, are underway as well as the largest dam removal project ever, the two dams on the Elwha River near Port Angeles.

A campaign by Wild Olympics is in full swing to set aside vital habitat abutting the National Park. The headwaters of most rivers are protected and there is no reason the Pacific Northwest’s most iconic salmon species cannot return to their full glory.

This article was published JUN 29 2014, on fisheyeguyphotography.com

For more incredible photography from Pat Clayton check out his Instagram @fisheyeguyphotography

Info and action here:

https://www.facebook.com/wildfishconservancy

https://www.facebook.com/wildolympics

https://www.facebook.com/wildsteelheadcoalition

http://www.northforkstudios.net/