The Back Cast: Newsletter of the Hill Country Fly Fishers, Kerrville, Texas
Volume 11 • Issue 10 • October 2006

An Angler’s Best Pet

Having a good pet is one of life’s delights. Most of the time that would be a favorite dog, cat, horse, parrot or just about any living creature. Anglers of the long rod may have not only one pet; in the water they have many. First, let’s decide on what defines a pet? For our purposes, maybe we would settle for a creature of nature that affords comfortable association and companionship as well as a degree of affection that attracts one or more human beings . Yes, that will work. Now, remember, I’m addressing my remarks to anglers–more specifically, fly-fishers.

Consider this, if you were in the middle of a stream fishing and were to decide on which fish would be your best finny companion, which would it be? Now keep our definition in mind. My choice is easy, and I’ll devote the rest of this writing to telling you why.

It would be the sunfish. They come in many varying colors and patterns. That characteristic alone makes them fascinating, for each small fish is almost like a piece of jewelry, not made of precious metal but, instead, of life itself; and so, as “fishing pets,” we may first be drawn to them for their beauty. But more specifically, in order to qualify as a pet, there has to be a bonding factor How does that come about?

I’ll answer with another consideration. How many times have you been on the river or lake when fishing is off to a slow start only to be surprised by an electric-like jerk on your line that quickens your angling instincts enough to, with a degree of good will, bring a fish about the size of your hand to your side. With a dash of pleasant satisfaction after stripping in your reward, you promptly release it. Yes, most likely it is our friend the sunfish who will be the first to respond to the call of our cast. Granted, the small fish is reacting in order to find a meal, but the angler feels a sense of bonding when a spunky bluegill answers with, “Yes, I’ll go for it!” We admire that kind of spirit.

Now, let’s examine more closely these pet specimens we refer to as sunfish. There is quite a bit of crossbreeding among the different species, but we’ll focus on those that are quite clearly representative of their particular type. These sunfish are common throughout the Texas Hill Country, though they are most abundant in the type of particular habitat that best suits the nature of their particular “clan.” I will point out some of the identifying markers and characteristics of each species. By the way, scientifically they all belong to the same genus, Lepomis (always capitalized), followed by the species classification, not capitalized. Most have other names, not always technically accurate, that are used in different locals. The word “perch” is often used but actually refers to a different genus, Perca. These informal names are inclosed in parenthesis.

Most abundant is the bluegill, Lepomis macrochirus, (perch, bream, brim), It may be recognized by several features. It varies in color more than any other fish, ranging from yellow to dark blue. It has a solid small black flap-like fin (ear) behind its eye, and a dark patch at the lower rear part of its dorsal fin. Perhaps most noticeable are perpendicular bars along its sides. It tends to prefer a gravel bottom and slow current.

The red ear sunfish, Lepomis microlophus, (shellcracker) has a red edge on its opercle flap (ear) and likes deeper pools with little current with sand or silt at the bottom.

The green sunfish, Lepomis cyanellus, (goggle-eye) has a mostly dark green body, with yellow extremities most often an opercle flap with a yellow border. Its jutting lower jaw and red eyes also distinguish it. Gravel or rocky bottoms and a rather swift current attract this fish.

The long ear sunfish, Lepomis megalotis, really stands out with its red or orange body combined with turquoise and green fins. Its favorite habitat is in small streams.

Largest of the sunfish is the warmouth, Lepomis gulosus, (rock bass). Its dark coloration and golden appearance with dark splotches are distinctive. It is the only sunfish to have small teeth on its tongue. It is found mostly in vegetated areas.

The redbreast sunfish, Lepomis auritus, (yellow belly) actually has a yellow belly. It is especially recognized by its long, narrow opercle fin. It may be found wherever insects, snails, crayfish and small fish hang out.

I suppose the topic might be debated as to whether these sunfish are dumb or, on the contrary, smart but playfully friendly. Either way is okay since not all pets have the same IQ but are loveable whether dumb or smart. If we go a bit further with the Latin, maybe we could add the terms smartus or dumus. Do me a favor. The next time you’re fishing and catch some of our Lepomis friends, please treat them gently as you would a pet. If you love them as much as Jimmy Houston loves bass, you might even give them a tiny kiss. [Various websites and books were used as general sources to accurately describe the above species–all containing much of the same information.]

–M.A.

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Good News! ! ! At its recent Conclave in Mountain Home, Arkansas, the Southern Council Federation of Fly Fishers awarded our good friend, Dr. Guy Harrison, the honor of being named Conservationist of the Year following a tally of votes received from all of the Southern Council membership clubs. Next month’s issue of the newsletter will have a more complete account of this achievement. Your editor is playing catch-up on this month’s issue; thus, due recognition is limited in the this issue of The Back Cast. A full account of the ceremonies will appear in the November issue, perhaps containing some pictures taken at the event. CONGRATULATIONS, DOC !

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Briefs on other club activities. . .

October Meeting: Thursday, October 19, 2006; 7:00 P.M.; UGRA offices at 125 W. Lehmann Drive (Behind the Texas Dept. of Public Safety on South Sidney Baker; Program: “Lefty” Ray Chapa on a topic not yet nailed down but certain to be extremely informative. “Lefty” has spoken to our club a number of times and is constantly coming up with new programs. Business: Reports from committees and discussion of the dues and trout lease fees.

From FFF ClubWire. . .

Stupid Fly Fishing Tricks
Submitted by Daryl Crowley of
The West Michigan Hacklers

We’ve all done it. And for what other reason than to amuse and entertain our friends. While akin to Stupid Human Tricks or Stupid Pet Tricks, these are specific to our chosen sport. Many of these I’ve compiled from personal experience, others from observing friends equally practiced at executing tricks. You probably already know many of these tricks, but add any you’re not already familiar with to your repertoire and amaze your friends. Here then is a collection of Stupid Fly Fishing Tricks bound to make you the life of the party during your next fly fishing trip.

  1. Shut the car door on your rod tip.
  2. Bring a box of streamers to the big hatch and leave your dry flies at home.
  3. Bring your waders but leave your wading boots at home.
  4. Just as a really big trout starts feeding voraciously, hang your back cast high in a tree.
  5. Don’t use the restroom before putting on your waders, belt, and vest.
  6. Don’t check the batteries in your flashlight before going night fishing.
  7. While stopping the boat along the river for a break, let one of your oars drift away.
  8. Forget to put the drain plug in your boat.
  9. Float downstream until dark and miss your take-out.
  10. Stab wildly at a big fish with your net and catch the fly on the outside of the net, knocking the fish off.
  11. When stringing your rod, wrap the line around the rod between the 5th and 6th guides. Don’t figure out why you are having trouble shooting line until you’re through fishing and putting your rod away.
  12. Tie on a very small and difficult-to-see fly in low light, and then cut the main line instead of the tag end.
  13. Tie a very complicated leader, weight, indicator, and two-fly rig, and then realize you’ve missed a guide when stringing your rod.
  14. While closely examining your fly to make sure it’s intact and the hook is sharp, burn your leader with your cigar.
  15. Don’t check your fly regularly and fish for a half-hour to a large steadily rising fish with an empty tippet.
  16. Pull hard on a snagged and weighted fly until the tippet breaks and the split-shot rockets back striking you in the face.
  17. Inadvertently get mosquito repellent on your lips.
  18. Drop an open box of 150 meticulously tied and weighted nymphs into a fast riffle.
  19. Decide it would be fun to fish salmon with your 2 wt. rod.
  20. Fish salmon with your 2 wt. Using 20 pound tippet and a tight drag.
  21. Confide with someone a hot secret fishing spot but ask them to tell no one.
  22. Hike into a remote river through swampy lowlands but pay no attention to the thick growth of waist-high nettle.
  23. While a fresh green 25-pound salmon is making that first screaming run, grab the reel handle and stop him.
  24. After losing your fly to an overhanging bush, retie and immediately cast into the same bush.
  25. Stick your thumb in the mouth of a big brown trout and land him like a bass
  26. When double hauling sixty feet of line at a big cruising fish, accidentally let go of the fly line with your left hand on the last back cast.
  27. When roll casting a heavy weighted streamer, bring the rod tip back farther than usual, give it some extra punch on the forward cast and whack yourself upside the head, knocking your hat into the water. (A hugely popular trick)
  28. While quickly hiking along the river bank, ignore the brush grabbing your landing net, until it breaks free and the bungee on your net drives the handle into the center of your back.
  29. When fishing from a boat and giving your best efforts not to move or wiggle your feet even the smallest amount, find yourself frequently standing on your line.
  30. After lightly hanging your fly on a stick in the river, give the rod an expert little roll with a quick snap to promptly pop the fly cleanly off the stick in the river and solidly into a tree branch high over your head.
  31. Decide it would be a smart thing to put on a fresh fly at the peak of the midge hatch and cut off the perfectly good fly you’ve been fishing with and then realize you left your glasses in the car.
  32. After snagging your fly on a submerged log, push your rod tip down to the fly and hook the tip- top onto the fly and break an inch off the tip of your rod. Still lose the fly in spite of breaking your rod.
  33. When setting your boat up to fish a very fast run, lower your anchor into the fork of a submerged tree. Don’t keep anything on board suitable for cutting an anchor rope.
  34. While trying unsuccessfully to tie on a fly under a heavy mosquito attack, suddenly and angrily lose control and swat at the bugs in your face, knocking your glasses off and into the river.
  35. While fishing from a moving drift boat, pay no attention to the slightly submerged snags, and when the boat comes to a sudden stop, pitch headlong out of the boat and into the river.
  36. Finally, the all time classic stupid fly fishing trick. . . Leave your rod on top of your car after fishing and drive away!

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Bear Encounter
By Charlie Place–taken from
The Connecticut Fly Fisherman’s
 Association Newsletter

The following has been printed in Lines & Leaders some years back and also in Heading Out magazine. Many people have approached Charlie and have asked him if this was a true story or just plain fiction. Well. . .he has informed us that every detail written here is absolutely true, even the part where he kissed the bear!. . .if only we had a video of this event. . . . You will enjoy this one!

 The bear’s large angry eyes were no more than a foot from my face. Its lips were curled back. Saliva dripped from its long pointed teeth. I could barely look at the magazine cover. Even after two fishing trips to Alaska without so much as seeing a bear, I was still nervous. I was going to Maine in a week. Foremost on my mind was the possibility of encountering a bear. Little did I know that my fear would become a reality.

My good friend Ernie and I arrived in the town of Bruinn about noon. Even though it was a nine-hour drive, our modus operandi was to rush to our reserved cabin, grab an adult beverage, unload, and head for the stream without actually unpacking. The point was to catch at least one landlocked salmon apiece before the other half of our foursome arrived. If we were successful, they would be stuck with the supper dishes.

I dropped Ernie off at his favorite pool and drove about a mile downstream. We figured splitting up would give us the best chance of avoiding the dreaded dish detail. I picked a small isolated pool that I had fished before with good results. I parked at the edge of the paved road and walked the last fifty yards through the woods. Fishing was slow. Two hours had passed without even so much as a hit. Having driven a long way and skipped lunch, I was getting the munchies. I searched my vest for some crackers or a candy bar left over from my last outing. I found a Snickers. The chocolate was melted and the paper was stuck to the gooey mess, but with some careful unwrapping, I deemed the bar edible. Just as I took a bite, a salmon hit my fly. I had left the Black Ghost swimming about thirty feet downstream while I salvaged the sun-baked sweet. The salmon bolted across the stream taking up the slack fly line and getting himself on the reel. The half-bitten chocolate bar hung from my mouth as the hooked speedster left the water for the first time. Twisting and turning , the startled fish came down on its side, slapping the water, soaking the top of a nearby rock. After two more jumps and a long run the bushed fighter was ready to be landed. I reached around to the back of my vest and grabbed my net. Extending the bungee, I slipped the net under the silver twenty-incher. Suddenly there was an enormous splash! The net was ripped from my hand. Confused, I quickly wiped the cold water from my eyes. A crazed raccoon had leaped from the riverbank onto my fish and started downstream, almost pulling me over. As fast as I could, I grabbed the stretched cord and pulled. The net came loose from the masked thief and shot back hitting me in the head. Dazed, I took a step toward dry land, spun around, and fell back, half in the water, half out. I must have passed out. Still groggy, I became slowly aware that something was licking my face and eating the mashed chocolate bar! I squinted my eyes open. It was a bear! My nightmare! My heart was pounding! I didn’t know what to do! The bear kept on licking. Panic-stricken, I reached up, grabbed the hungry bruin around the neck and put the biggest, sloppiest kiss on her that I could. Startled, the bear dug in its feet and tried to pull away. I let go. The surprised chocolate lover stumbled back a few steps and fell on her butt. I jumped up and rushed out into the stream. I stood there, mid-river, slightly over my waders with cold water running down my legs. The dumbfounded bear and I looked at each other for a long moment. Finally, she snorted, turned, and ran back into the woods.

Completely shaken, I walked upstream a few hundred yards, cut across somebody’s lawn and circled back to my car, all the time wondering how I still had my fly rod. On that long walk, I decided not to tell my buddies about the bear encounter. It was a cinch they wouldn’t believe me, and all I had to show for it was chapped lips. I touched my sore lips. How long was she licking them anyway? Back at camp, I took a hazing for falling in the river. After I did the dishes, we played cards for a while, tied flies, and told fish stories. Ernie asked me what happened to my mouth. “It’s all red,” he said.

The next morning, Ernie wanted to go to a place called The Falls. It wasn’t too far from where I had met the bear. “Ah, what the heck,” I thought. “It couldn’t happen again.” Besides, I didn’t have any more candy bars. We no more than stopped at the end of the short dirt road leading to the falls when my car began to bounce up and down violently. I looked in my rear view mirror. There was a bear, much larger than the first, with its two front paws on my trunk, pushing on my car. Ernie and I exchanged frightened looks. The huge bear stopped, walked around to the driver’s side, and took a swipe over my hood. The king size fur ball then walked a few feet away and with his hind legs sprayed dirt all over the present he had just left. Then he strutted off and disappeared into the thick undergrowth.

We sat there trying to compose ourselves. After shaking several minutes, Ernie broke the fear-soaked silence. "Gee, I’ve never seen a bear that mad before," he quipped. "He acted like you were messing with his girl or something."

IMPORTANT NOTICE: You must be a member of our club in order to qualify for participation in the trout lease program. First priority goes to those who paid their dues and lease fee last year. If you wish to pay your membership fee early, e-mail guadbass@yahoo.com and he will respond by sending you an attachment containing the form with instructions.