For All That Wander : Iowa at Summer's End

 Now look back close to Home : Iowa Farm Pond

I just got back from a family visit in Iowa. I've been a lot of places this year

but this part of the world really surprised me this time around. I had an intense conversation with the native Largemouth Bass. Fly fished the Mississippi River. Held a baby - Woodson Whitacre.  Had more than my share of great cooking and enormous solitude.

An average Farm Pond under extraordinary circumstances. At an acre and 15 feet deep. A fresh rain and summer water temps prime the Bass to explode on food items as large as mice and frogs. At times attacking dragonflies along the shore.

 

                                       

Downtown Muscatine, Iowa near the Riverside Cafe. I need to do several long walks around my hometown every time I visit.  Noting changes and noting stalwarts.  My big heartbreak is the corner of downtown near here that no longer contains Maid Rite sandwich shop. They do still exist at other locations though and serve "loose meat" (sloppy joe)  sandwiches.

My Parents collaborating on a flower arrangement. Gary and Mary gearing up for a party.

Getting lost on a few acres. The summer creates a small Iowa jungle. Insects thrive here in a way they don't back in Oregon. I had my own personal Everglades for days. This past week and this pond will forever float in my memory as magic.

Real art along Muscatine's south side. I always appreciate low riders. Something wonderful is airbrushed on the hood as well.

My dad said this had been in the garage refrigerator for "at least 3 years". Sadly it does not take much of a "situation" for me to drink one of these. I put this one back in the time capsule though.

My mom fishes in a relaxed manner while I prance about with fly rod.  This is at a new park called "Deep Lakes" - an ecologically  unique network of sand lakes surrounded by "artificial desert" - an area of very sandy soil with rare plants and animals - including Prickly Pear cactus, Whiptail Lizards,  Hognosed Snakes and Eastern Box Turtles. We saw a giant Gizzard Shad (big river fish) zip by us right here in the stillwater.  My dad has a long history of fishing this area - which has always been called the "Gravel Pits". Up into the 1970's it was lawless with lots of swimming, drinking and fighting.

Bluegill fight hard for their size. 50 years ago I would have said "They give a good account of themselves on a fly rod." Boldly feeding in the same areas as the MUCH larger Bass and creating a zipping popping sound when pulling a fly off the surface. The Bluegill is the fish that started it all for me. 

Curiosities along the Old Burlington Road. Ruins of an ancient gas station at the base of the river bluff. (We could not get any more photos as they were about to shoot a dusty Robert Plant music video. hee hee)  Hey... in all seriousness though this is near where they found a huge hibernation den of Blue Racer snakes when I was a kid.

Raising a ruckus. With a face only Nascar could love. Alert and with great eyesight. Stalking XL mice "flies" under the moss for a great distance. The heavy midwestern stillness shattered by electrifying surface crashes as they busted right through the moss - never missing the mouse on top. Fly fishing is not all just Trout - at its most indelicate it looks like this. If you haven't fished - I suggest not starting for these kinds of perfectly violent reasons. I had over a dozen Bass do this - and it scared me everytime.  These Bass overwintered last year under a full 2' of ice on this pond dreaming of these kind of moments. I would hate to be a 4" Chewbacca or Boba Fett for that matter trying to make a crossing.

        A short video of me catching a cruising Bass :

                                                     https://vimeo.com/103328999

Portrait of Perseverance. My mom will do 10 mile walks at the drop of a hat. Blood and conversation flows. 

A note on my alcohol consumption: Before I left Oregon I stopped and camped at the Kalama River - it was dusk and I watched a big flock of Swifts come out over the river to take advantage of the evening's insects. I was mesmerized by the flight patterns. The Swifts left as twilight set in and a group of Bats then came out as it grew truly dark - the shift change happened fairly quickly.  The Bats flying with radar and a different pattern. I was quite drunk at a picnic table watching this and it troubled me that the Bats and Swifts were not enough. What fear had caused me to be at this campsite blitzed on that particular evening ? I felt something dark in the hard buzz and I did not like it. But it also provided a certain clarity. As we head into fall - I will be pursuing alcohol with less fervor.

Farewell Shot :  My cousin Eric took me out on the Mississippi River in his boat. He and his dad Richard generally run diddy poles for huge Flathead Catfish. With the help of his expert local knowledge I managed to catch  some Smallmouth and White Bass on fly. The White Bass is an open water speedster of midwater attacks - and known locally as a "Striper". I had to a least try throwing a few flies here in the Big Muddy. Twain could have something clever to say about me flailing this storied water with the long wand.         Goodbye Iowa and family !  See you at Christmas !

Roll Damn Trout: My Time Spent up High Recently

What I want you to think most of my trip looked like.

Excerpts from a long walk in the mountains this past weekend.

 As per my usual blog format:

All the photos are right here at the top for you visual people.

Down below all the photos are a few paragraphs in more detail about this  alpine experience.

What my desk sees right before one of these trips.

Rowan hiking in. This hiking part should be enough fun for most people.

We truly hoped these jumbo backpacks would help us cut a larger profile for cougar safety. What mine would probably do is flop me over backwards so the cat could more easily disembowel me.

Plants make good art. Josh Raleigh lets me know that this is Corn Lily.

Ridic. 

Male Brook Trout. with attitude.

Closer up on another Brookie.

A Native Rainbow! Conjured up from the depths through use of spinning gear.

Native and Introduced Range of the Brook Trout. Which is actually a Char !

Although I am aware that it is illegal to use fishing to talk about other things in life ...

 I press on.

Hiking in to high lakes in the Cascade Range of Central Oregon.

     These overnight backpack-in to camp at alpine lakes trips are not for everyone.
Some of the gear can be pricey. And it was hard on the 7 year olds that we made carry the majority of our gear.

     The month of May in this area still means ultraclear snowmelt streams trickling 38 degree water into clear cold lakes.  Bald Eagles snatching trout from the waters surface. Very light black bear pressure and no other people save my friend Rowan are foolish enough to take 3 days off  to get cold, wet, huck gear and catch tons of pretty polka-dot trout. Somebody found occasion to use the phrase "up the yin yang".  I guess rightfully so.

Enter Brook Trout or "Brookies":

     These particular polka-dot trout out west here are actually Eastern Brook Trout.
Native to Appalachia and the Great Lakes. We white folks brought them here to the West generations ago - around 1900 -  and they have done quite well. Some say too well. What Brookies are good at is ganging up and blocking the larger native Rainbows and Cutthroat from prime feeding areas. When traveling with a fish biologist like Rowan - you get some inside info. What we saw this time of year - the Brook Trout controlled the edges of the lake -  the drop-offs in 6' of water.  Prime real estate in May at this elevation for insects and crayfish. Though we did catch a few big Rainbows and one native Cutt - we caught more than 90% Brookies. 

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     So it seems at first glance that a fish so far from its home waters surviving and thriving to the point of dominating larger species is counterintuitive. But it is this cooperation of packs of Brook Trout that allow them to do this. Imagine intimidating teenagers keeping you from wanting to hit your favorite empanada place as often. kinda. So we did eat some of these allegedly invasive brookies. They were orange fleshed - possibly from eating crayfish? and of course really good.

     The list of Invasive Species we humans have aided in their legacy is long and varied: Horses, Norway Rat, Carp, Starlings, English Sparrows .... I imagine a child dumping his goldfish into a canal and setting feral goldfish in motion forever.
And even Crayfish cross county lines in GTO's going 140mph. all. the. freaking. time.

And I know:

     A small hole is created  in the universe every time a white person utters the words "invasive species".  That phrase should get sucked into a void when spoken.... but through some fluke of bullshit I am allowed to say it.  Out West here the cute and noble and mos def spunky Brook Trout is "Invasive".

     But...Roll Damn Brookies.


     So about the therapeutic camping:

 All you need to do to experience the beauty up there is get an expedition sized backpack, hiking boots, headlamp, tiny cook stove w fuel, smart wool everything, extra socks, rain shell, tarp, dry food, compass, map, toilet paper, sun hat, extra shoes, gloves, toothbrush n paste, sunglasses, dry bags, water filter, possibly fishing gear, camera, wilderness permit, and a lack of responsibility toward all the nice folks in your life.... for 3 days or so. 

     At present, I may be running away to nature to avoid human relationships.
But I still love you all.  Hiding in the profound to avoid the intimate.  Or maybe just running away from one profound thing toward another profound thing. Or sometimes I  just like it quiet. But lets not overthink it. :) These are indeed somewhat turbulent times but I am trying to make them fun times. 

     Before I close and run off to the end of the earth again... I want to give a nod to facebook. I understand aspects of it are evil... but it has helped me connect to folks I have lost touch with for 20 years and sometimes more. Call me if you want to talk. No don't - I think facebook is perfect for us right now.

Thanks for listening!

Neil 

Hamm's is the beer refreshing

Have We Met in This Swamp Before?

Howdy -

Some big changes with me.  I started a new job. I now have weekends off. 

It comes the time of year when I let the kayak live on top of the truck.  

It is not new that I am inexorably and magnetically drawn to water.
(Life would be better if I could get the song from true detective out of my head)

Here are a few new areas from the this month.

A gnarly death by sogginess. Mt. Hood in the distance - overlooks a  shallow and strange Bybee Lake.

  Reeds and tubers emerge. Otter Beavers Turtle Frog !! By late summer this area will be dry.

Bullshit trees in the way of my morning commute. Smith Bybee Lakes at high water.

Carp surges for deeper water and puts a bend in a saltwater flyrod.

Grace. ...and just a glimmer of the goldfish genes here.

Gliding over sun-warmed gravel bar. (Orvis carp fly)

Bronzed and rippling. Slab side of a noble Carp before release.

  Remember back when tans were healthy? Or when we used to stake out coke drops out here?

Mirror Carp. Selectively bred Ornamental for fewer scales....Escaped into wild.

We shall get back to this Steelhead stuff later perhaps.

Out Where the Buses Don't Run 

      Poking around the wild areas close to Portland I encountered the world's most widely distributed freshwater fish - the Carp. Fascinating in their adaptability and versatility to inhabit waters we have thrashed.  Native to Asia, they were brought to the US in 1831. (Australia now has them as well.) "Malign me. Make fun of my pollution, mud and muck  tolerance" they say.  They live in water that is too fertile - Eutrophic. Carp live in the hell we make. They are us and we are them. You pull one out of the water and they will ask straight to your face: 
 "Who is the more invasiver ?"

     A select cult of deranged Portland flyrodders pursue them by sightfishing. carponthefly.blogspot.com   Sightfishing works like this: You spot an individual fish, then cast directly to it and try to get it to eat your stupid fake thing by moving your stupid fake thing just right - which sometimes means not moving it at all. Rejections are numerous, awesome and humbling. No talent ass clown with wrong fly.

     Right now in April, the water is just barely warming up enough to see them begin to actively feed really shallow before moving back to slightly deeper water for the heat of summer.
I decided I should try this "carp on fly". I started drifting all the nooks of the Smith Bybee Wetland area. An area that is so weed choked and oxygen starved by mid-summer that only Carp survive.Though i did see evidence that some of the birds were catching Yellow Bullheads.

     Turns out.... wild Carp are a great gamefish.  They see well. They hear everything. They are skeptical as all get out. Every time an eagle flys over and throws a shadow they all jet in a puff of mud smoke. The crunch of a Dorito can alert them to your presence. Please do not think that they think you are a tree. See how they forage at the base of that flooded tree?  Yeah...They wont ever do that near your feet. No mater how long you are in the water.

     You get to be in some cool, weird, vast, quiet, sunny, tree-lined, Georgia flower smelling, areas where nobody hardly ever goes.  For instance - I actually saw quite a few frogs out there of 2 different kinds. Tundra Geese !
I even saw turtles. Briding in Carp zones is top notch also.

    I go to Carp now.

Shadows of Twain - A Disturbance in the Flow

Very Large Mark Twain in downtown Muscatine,IA

Mississippi River this January

My parents in the ice fishing hut

Gary with gear

Bald Eagle eaten head of Quillback

Drilling holes w auger

Ice hole and the minimal gear required

Crazy Punk Bluegill - Iowa farm pond

Hybrid Bluegill ?

Lookey here Jeb looks what aye caught!

Bass!

If you look really hard you can find some 70's swingers in here....

Oaks Bottom frozen over.

Wilson River can take a flying....

felt like i had to say goodbye to Johnson Creek mouth

A handmade boat called Recurring Dream (facebook)

So I have to get right to the heart of the matter right away.

I am regretfully letting everyone know that Naomi and I have separated. 

Heavy Relationship Stuff Ahead. Rivers of tears. Huge waterfalls of crushing pain.

  I now get to miss the goats and cats hardcore. I have moved out and am renting a room on East Burnside St. My new place happens to be next door to a really good friend of mine - Dave Barmon and his family - a hyperactive landscape company owner who really had my back on this one and not sure how to ever repay.  He likes "wild foods" so I have some idea. Supposedly I will also be making my famous pad thai for his  family.

My family in Iowa - my mom and dad - also caught me perfectly in my fall. My parents have had their differences as well but they were both there for me the past few weeks.

I will also mention Matt and Jill who provided the most comfortable safe harbour imaginable during the worst week of my life. They introduced me to a TV show called Deadwood for which I will ever be greatful. My best friend Luis Campos who is mastering his 3rd career is also going through a divorce so we had some good talks this past month. And to all the other friends I have met for lunch the past few weeks. Unsolicited advice would be to ask along the way for what you want from your partner. Give them the things you know they need.

The break up --- It is disturbingly sad and a lot of people are very sad about it. But some people are still making very funny jokes in light of all the drama and the heart crushing panic and anxiety that I have been feeling. I wont hold them liable if I end up lost on the end of the earth or splayed in a ditch somewhere by a crocodile. The level of sorrow is almost transcendent.  Nice that there was no cheating or drugs or alcohol or racketeering involved. Naomi and I still had some really good good times over our 10 years together and I wont forget those and shall still carry them with me. I have wonderful memories and they shant be taken away.  Naomi and I are trying to work out our differences slowly. So we have not lost all faith. I will always wish her the best. BUT there is a terrible shaking of the foundation right now - things swinging in both directions - good and bad. Looking back and looking ahead.  Corny and awesome all at once.

I liked peanut butter quite a bit and she actually seemed to realize she was allergic to it. We are trying like hell to reconcile, but the whole situation might have us lost for a bit.  Water creatures are so close to my soul. Furry creatures so close to hers. I became a fuzzy land octopus and she became a mer-goat and we still had disagreements.

 I hope continued talking will help. I am trying to get the other camp into discussions about the business we have together.These talks are plodding along and not sure which way they are headed.

 I have a lot of life to live and people to see all over the country and the planet perhaps before I come back to Portland. I have a lot of forks in the road coming up and the people in my life have been providing a huge rudder as well as net. I will be embarking on my own new journey soon and we shall see where it takes me. For now I am still in Portland. 

A bit on the fishing in January - 

Just before this big hell of life shift I got back to Iowa for a week. It gave me time to see my family and it gave Naomi time to peacefully get me out of the house permanently and start dividing our stuff.

Iowa in Winter : Under the Shadow of Twain along the frozen Mississippi.

l got to go back to Muscatine for a visit in early January. It was a blast. I got to go ice fishing. This is the most surreal type of fishing one can do. You walk out on to a frozen lake and drill holes in the ice. Then you take a 2' rod and some blue 4 lb. test (so you can see you line against the all white background) and plop it down the hole with a super tiny pink or green micro jig on it with a wax worm. It was a small farm pond but fairly deep as we were fishing just off the bottom at about 15'.  My dad fished really hard for a semi old guy. The big Bluegills were in attack mode. We caught a bunch including one Largemouth Bass as well. I even had one exciting incident with a big mystery fish that had no interest in being landed or even really coming up in the water column. Go Bass or Catfish ?! 

I was there just after the "polar vortex" so there was a full foot of ice on the lakes and ponds. The Mississippi was even 90% ice covered. Dozens of Bald Eagles patrolled what little open water there was. Bald Eagles stood everywhere on the edges of the open water. I was very curious as to what kind of fish they were catching and how they were catching them. I saw the severed heads of a Gizzard Shad and a Quillback.

Iowa appears to be having a super cold winter by the way. 

I got back to Portland and there had been only a little bit of rain while I was gone. It raised the water levels for a few days and things got fishier according to the online forums. But we really need to get some more rain. Portland is way behind. And yes of course I have selfish reasons for wanting more rain. But the farmers will need more rain for irrigation, and even the ski resorts AND anyone not interested in seeing all of the American West slip into chronic drought. So pray for rain everybody.

The Wilson River  - oh turquoise archnemesis -

On a suicide mission again - Matt Reed and I headed back out to the Wilson for some steelheading on MLK Day.  Still low and clear and 8 to 900 cfs - there were lots of different fishing styles on the river that day and I saw no one hook up. I was out there with the new fly rod and fishing an orange/black egg leach. It took me hours to figure out not to focus on any of the sunny areas and really work the shaded areas. I had one take on a little roll cast in one of the darkest eddies I could find. Fish ran for a brief moment ... and was gone.

By early February I was moving out of our house - not by choice. Then the snowstorm hit in Portland. It was pretty snow and it drew people together. I took a lot of long walks and pushed a lot of stuck cars of Oregon nubs out trying to drive. As I write the 3 day snowstorm melts. Rain falls  on top of it. Rivulets run to the river.

Flash forward to me writing on Feb 20 - Now we just got even more rain and February's precip of 5.33 inches to date might be approaching normal. Lots to do and the rivers are to high to fish this anyway. Wait for the water to seep down through the soil and provide that neat ground filtered aqua water that the steelhead like.

Got a great free casting lesson from a wonderful semi retired semi pro named Rowan. He showed me some lessons that I will be practicing in the park.

As far as big life advice.... there is none I am qualified to give.
But I will say -
Hold your loved one and tell them you love them.
Do it now genius. 

Good night.

Neil