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Old 02-02-2015, 04:19 PM   #1
vtflyfish
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Even a stripper couldn't wake up this forum

That's what Glen said last week and you know, for once he's right. I looked over in the canoeing section. Plenty of pictures of nice looking strippers but not too many views.

That's understandable. It is, after all, Groundhog Day. It's also mid-winter, cold and snowing. So here's how we're going to liven things up: Sero has bequeathed a large box of flies that need new homes. My job is finding homes for the wee things once they arrive. Our first dispersal will be in the form of a contest. There will be two winners: one box of flies for the best Adirondack fish picture of 2014 posted here and one box for the best fish story as judged by yours truly. The story may be wholly true or contain embellishments or details that might not have been obvious at the time. That is, bald-faced lies are acceptable and will be treated as matters of fishing fact. I, members of my family, heirs and heirs to be are ineligible.

So let the games begin! And here are a few nice ineligible brookie pics to get the blood going!
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File Type: jpg BR2.jpg (114.2 KB, 292 views)
File Type: jpg BR3.jpg (99.0 KB, 291 views)
File Type: jpg BR4.jpg (104.0 KB, 290 views)
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Old 02-02-2015, 06:08 PM   #2
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OK, I'll bite.

While this isn't a monster. As far as I can tell, the fish doesn't have any time in the back of a NYSP UH-1. I CNR'd it out of a small flow on a trib of a trib of the Sacandaga River. Not a great story, but worth the three mile hike/ bushwhack. TM
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Old 02-03-2015, 01:27 PM   #3
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Nice!

OK, all, bring on the pics and stories! Or has everyone gone into hibernation?

I know Glen is participating in the Long Islan Quilting Bee so for once he has a legit excuse.
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Old 02-03-2015, 02:11 PM   #4
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Here's my entry:

After hiking in 20 miles to a pond I determined through various calculations and sunspot phases to be a candidate for big brookies, I hooked this one on a size 24 spinner floating perfectly in the surface film. Using a silk line and antique gut leader made landing this beauty especially challenging. As I tangled at the last minute, I handed the fish to Upstate Dave to hold while I photographed it. He is not the type of guy to try to steal credit for someone else's catch unlike a certain other forum member.
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“Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. They smelled of moss in your hand. On their backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery.”
― Cormac McCarthy
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Old 02-03-2015, 02:21 PM   #5
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Another entry. This is a picture of Vtflyfish demonstrating his Catch and Release technique.
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“Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. They smelled of moss in your hand. On their backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery.”
― Cormac McCarthy
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Old 02-03-2015, 02:26 PM   #6
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After screaming like mad that he had a record breaking fish on, Vtflyfish couldn't even find it in his net. The reading glasses helped determine that it was just an inch longer than his fly.
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“Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. They smelled of moss in your hand. On their backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery.”
― Cormac McCarthy
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Old 02-03-2015, 02:58 PM   #7
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After a 200' hike Glen was exhausted so he sat down to fish. His bobber and worm are clearly visible.
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Old 02-03-2015, 03:54 PM   #8
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So I've submitted my pictures, and here is my story:

After letting the varnish dry thoroughly on the bamboo rod I just made, I prepared to descend to the piazza, martini in hand (shaken,not stirred) to try some lawn casting. Several lovely sunbathing gals were admiring my technique when one said "My dad owns a nice cabin on a lake near here. Do you like brook trout?" I could barely believe what I was hearing. She got dressed and offered to take me over to try the fishing, unfortunately in that order. After driving through the most beautiful private drive we came upon the cabin. Well, she called it a cabin but it was more in the style of a great camp. After a brief tour she showed me to the boathouse where several guideboats were hanging on their bronze pulley contraptions. She insisted on accompanying me saying she knew the spring holes and that was the key to finding the fish. I did not object. After a short row, and another martini, we stopped in a sheltered bay and I opened my fly box. She suggested I try the "pretty red and white one" so I tied on the old Dr. Breck. On my first cast I landed a five pounder. She said try again, that was a small one. On my second cast a wind came up and on the forward cast I felt a bang on the back of my head. As I woke up on the floor I realized I had been casting in my sleep and fell off the bed. This always happens to me just before things start getting interesting....
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“Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. They smelled of moss in your hand. On their backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery.”
― Cormac McCarthy
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Old 02-03-2015, 04:05 PM   #9
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Quote:
Originally Posted by Glen View Post
So I've submitted my pictures, and here is my story:

After letting the varnish dry thoroughly on the bamboo rod I just made, I prepared to descend to the piazza, martini in hand (shaken,not stirred) to try some lawn casting. Several lovely sunbathing gals were admiring my technique when one said "My dad owns a nice cabin on a lake near here. Do you like brook trout?" I could barely believe what I was hearing. She got dressed and offered to take me over to try the fishing, unfortunately in that order. After driving through the most beautiful private drive we came upon the cabin. Well, she called it a cabin but it was more in the style of a great camp. After a brief tour she showed me to the boathouse where several guideboats were hanging on their bronze pulley contraptions. She insisted on accompanying me saying she knew the spring holes and that was the key to finding the fish. I did not object. After a short row, and another martini, we stopped in a sheltered bay and I opened my fly box. She suggested I try the "pretty red and white one" so I tied on the old Dr. Breck. On my first cast I landed a five pounder. She said try again, that was a small one. On my second cast a wind came up and on the forward cast I felt a bang on the back of my head. As I woke up on the floor I realized I had been casting in my sleep and fell off the bed. This always happens to me just before things start getting interesting....
Hey, I had the very same dream but in mine she never got dressed!
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Old 02-03-2015, 04:06 PM   #10
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Hey, I had the very same dream but in mine she never got dressed!

I've clearly won both the photo and story contests. You have my address.

Send the flies.
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“Once there were brook trout in the streams in the mountains. They smelled of moss in your hand. On their backs were vermiculate patterns that were maps of the world in its becoming. Maps and mazes. Of a thing which could not be put back. Not be made right again. In the deep glens where they lived all things were older than man and they hummed of mystery.”
― Cormac McCarthy

Last edited by Glen; 02-03-2015 at 04:06 PM.. Reason: sp
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Old 02-03-2015, 04:17 PM   #11
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Quote:
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I've clearly won both the photo and story contests. You have my address.

Send the flies.
This contest is still young and I'm counting on the many liars - er, fishermen - among us to register their contributions to Adirondack fishing lore.
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Old 02-03-2015, 07:28 PM   #12
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I'm thinking about giving up ice fishing. I find it way to difficult to cast my fly and land it in the hole I've just drilled. Anyone else have this problem?
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Old 02-03-2015, 09:46 PM   #13
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I'm thinking about giving up ice fishing. I find it way to difficult to cast my fly and land it in the hole I've just drilled. Anyone else have this problem?
I am not a fly fisherman but the last time I went ice fishing it took me all day to chop a hole big enough for the boat and then my buddy tells me he wants to try trolling.
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Old 02-04-2015, 01:26 AM   #14
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I am not a fly fisherman but the last time I went ice fishing it took me all day to chop a hole big enough for the boat and then my buddy tells me he wants to try trolling.
Did you remember to paint a big X in the bottom of your boat so you'd remember the spot for the next time?
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Old 02-04-2015, 10:07 AM   #15
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C'mon, guys, post your pics and tell your stories around this virtual campfire. I'm going to set a deadline and a challenge:
  • The deadline is 11:00PM Friday, the 6th
  • We can't let Glen win either prize
So show your stuff!!!
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Old 02-04-2015, 08:26 PM   #16
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"I'm thinking about giving up ice fishing. I find it way to difficult to cast my fly and land it in the hole I've just drilled. Anyone else have this problem?"

No problem, just hop on the back of my snowmobile and we'll troll for 'em.
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Old 02-05-2015, 01:16 AM   #17
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Have you guys tried ice-fishing like this...?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIs00QjiJZQ
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Old 02-05-2015, 01:41 PM   #18
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Not so fast all you would-be contest winners, its my turn. Believe it or not this is a true story. While trolling aboard my Blackjack, I heard a loud noise just feet behind me. It was early morning late fall and the water felt cold. I didn't pay much attention to the noise because I figured it was just a beaver smacking its tail on the water trying to scare me. Well I wish it was a beaver because what came next was a battle royal. I have seen videos of Canadian Geese chasing people on land and laughed my butt off, but never did I think a goose was so dam strong. I have no idea why this goose decided to attack me.
A Hornbeck is a pretty stable fishing platform, not very easy to tip unless your struggling to fight off a goose that looks like its on Steroids. This thing came at me with everything it had. Im sure if I was standing, I could have kicked it or thrown a few knock out blows. Since I was seated at water level the bastard had an advantage over me. It pecked at my face and its raspy bill scratched me. At this point I felt that I was in a life and death struggle. If this bird came at me once more I may go in the drink. I had my paddle in my hands and my rod in my mouth when all of a sudden FISH ON. Here comes the bird again and I have a nice fish on the line.
On his 3rd dive bomb I swung my paddle at him so hard that it slipped out of my hands and flew across the pond. I thought to myself "OH S@&T" what do I do now? With nothing but my hands to fend off the bird, I grabbed him by the neck on what turned out to be his final approach. His neck felt Like a hard Salami, very muscular. I looked him in the eyes and said "You're not the one to bring me down". I guess talking to him did the trick because when I released him, he hightailed it out of there. While all this was going on my reel was screaming. The fish was still on. Needless to say I was able to land this late fall beauty, here are a few pics.
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File Type: jpg IMG_2228.JPG (129.1 KB, 170 views)

Last edited by mar71; 02-05-2015 at 02:52 PM..
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Old 02-05-2015, 02:03 PM   #19
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Originally Posted by mar71 View Post
Not so fast all you would-be contest winners, its my turn. Believe it or not this is a true story. While trolling aboard my Blackjack, I heard a loud noise feet behind me. It was early morning late fall and the water felt cold. I didn't pay much attention to the noise because I figured it was just a beaver smacking its tail on the water trying to scare me. Well I wish it was a beaver because what came next was a battle royal. I have seen videos of Canadian Geese chasing people on land and laughed my butt off, but never did I think a goose was so dam strong. I have no idea why this goose decided to attack me.
A Hornbeck is a pretty stable fishing platform, not very easy to tip unless your struggling to fight off a goose that looks like its on Steroids. This thing came at me with everything it had. Im sure if I was standing, I could have kicked it or thrown a few knock out blows. Since I was seated at water level the bastard had an advantage over me. It pecked at my face and its raspy bill scratched me. At this point I felt that I was in a life and death struggle. If this bird came at me once more I may go in the drink. I had my paddle in my hands and my rod in my mouth when all of a sudden FISH ON. Here comes the bird again and I have a nice fish on the line.
On his 3rd dive bomb I swung my paddle at him so hard that it slipped out of my hands and flew across the pond. I thought to myself "OH S@&T" what do I do now? With nothing but my hands to fend off the bird, I grabbed him by the neck on what turned out to be his final approach. His neck felt Like a hard Salami, very muscular. I looked him in the eyes and said "Your not the one to bring me down". I guess talking to him did the trick because when I released him, he hightailed it out of there. While all this was going on my reel was screaming. The fish was still on. Needless to say I was able to land this late fall beauty, here are a few pics.
Hey, that was my trained goose, sent to spy on you and keep you off my favorite ponds! I guess he's no match for a tough-as-nails NYC firefighter so you've earned your right to fish Pond X.

Funny now, probably not so much at the time! Excellent story.
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Old 02-05-2015, 07:53 PM   #20
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I loved your story mar71. Almost hard to believe but hard to make this story up also. Excellant ending and fantastic fish!! Trying to figure out a great title for this story....mmmm !!
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