Monday, October 31, 2011

Halloween bringin' it.

-Alex who has a hundred points and a gold star for the person (besides FGFF crew) who can tell me where the boar on the pumpkin is from.

Fising Denied

Well, Not Too Giant
three pools made into one
.. We took our fishing gear into Yellowstone National Park and caught no fish. Instead we took several hours to wander around the thermal features of Biscuit Basin.
.. A thermal explosion and eruption occurred a couple of days ago and rearranged the topography of the three most visited pools along the boardwalk.
.. The debris field, scoured outwash area, and boiling muck now clouding Opal Pool give testimony to the forces at work just below the feet of wading fisher folk: or for that matter, any folk in Yellowstone.
.. Eyewitness reports place the vertical displacement of water at about 70 feet. It was a large single column of water the erupted with a violent explosion and showered debris into the three previously separate pools along the boardwalk.
.. Boiling water, scalding mud, and boulders the size of watermelons were ejected from the newly expanded vent. The amount of water expelled was sufficient to remove vegetation and some subsurface sand all the way to the Firehole River, about 300 feet away.
.. Only a few faithful geyser gazers were present for the eruption. Hoards of visitors are now not streaming to the area to view the scene. After all, this is the last week of the "Summer Season." There are very few folks around to enjoy our protracted salubrious weather. So be it.
.. We're going to make up for not fishin' by going fishing. Golly gee, there's only seven days left.
Salt & Pepper Spring on the right was filled with debris and is now a pepper & pepper spring.

Sunday, October 30, 2011


Cuban Brown & Algerian Buff
with a little umber arundinaria
.. As we enter the last week of fishing in Yellowstone National Park we contemplate the past season and anticipate the next. We celebrate each season's end with a couple of fine bits of Cuban Culture, some personally selected North African Tree Bark, and a bit of oriental grass, (no not that kind.)
.. Personal traditions are weirdly idiosyncratic and demand no justification. An explanation may suffice.
.. Nearly 50 years ago we fished the fall runners on the Madison River with a rod that we assembled in our basement, and smoked our first Cuban cigar.
.. To this day we drag out the old Orvis 8 weight blank that we nailed together with bits and pieces from friends and neighbors.
.. The grip was assembled from cork scraps that we sent home from a then recent expedition in Algeria. It's been sanded to within an inch of it's useful life and looks it.
.. We're sentimental enough to fish today with the same flies we did then and, with some of the same old reels and funky lines of the past.
.. On rare occasion, (not this year,) we put Mr. Young's finest to the test with a well honed bit of silk and horsehair.
.. It pleases us and we go about our business in a nostalgic fog. We usually catch some fish but interestingly, that seems less and less important as the years go by. . .
.. If we had some 'Seal Dry' waders we'd put the clammy old rubber to the test. Not too sadly, though, they have gone the way of all flesh rubber.
.. The neighbors of a certain age humor us. They are kind enough to giggle and chortle behind our backs. Others have less appreciation as they question our choice of rod, line, fly, etc.
.. Woolly Worm, Scarlet Ibis, Wet March Brown, Wet Royal Coachman, Wickham's Fancy, and many others fail to ring true in the face of contemporary verbiage.
.. We're yet to be convinced that a 'crinkled-tail, hoary thorax, zipidedon hackled strangler,' is much better for fooling fish than a Dark Spruce Fly or a Gray Ghost. Besides that we've got a dozen or so jungle cock capes to use up before we're done.
.. The giant fish from Hebgen Lake are late arriving this year - that's the bad news. There seem to be more of them - at least the 20" and smaller ones this year - that's the good news.
.. We've taken a few and even some fish from other than the Madison River. Not a single fly had synthetic material. Silk thread works just fine, thank you.
.. The explosion in Biscuit Basin has produced some new thermal features, a bit of murky hot water and combined a couple of hot springs. Maybe we'll fish visit there.
.. Well, it's cold and overcast is predicted. We're going to drink two pots of coffee, eat fried eggs and potatoes, slather some toast with real butter, and use real cream in the coffee - laced with refined white sugar.
.. Our sack lunch today includes a white bread sandwich with bacon, bologna, and real mayonnaise. We're putting in two three four double Snickers bars and some pepperoni sticks as well.
.. We will be getting a rather late start: our appointment with the hair stylist is for 9:30 AM. We need to sell about a half-dozen Whiting capes to generate enough cash for the winter. Should bring between $3,000 and $5,000 if we're lucky.
.. The key lime pie should be thawed by 10:00 and we'll eat it with spoons made of Nutter Butter cookies. We may even fish some.

Friday, October 28, 2011

Part 1 - suspect behavior, dirty undies and slime.

Someone painted red stains on the eight-foot white cross where the nails would have been.  Men sometimes sit behind the small store on a dirty picnic table. They are open when they feel like it so go away and come back later. Dogs roam feral through tall trees over the bitumen and aggregate and through the trampled field where soiled undergarments are discarded. The cows don't seem to mind.

Two men in an early 70's off-white Ford F100 bounce and rattle down the dirt path that bisects the field. They are up to something at the far end, their heads dip and bob as they slowly move across the ground, occasionally disappearing altogether behind the taller shrubs and grass as they walk back and forth from the bed of the truck.

Clouds loom ominous and move quickly over rusty playground equipment. A faded carousel slowly choked by weeds longs for small hands as a school bus rumbles out of a dirt drive across the street.

The road from here to there curves through the middle of this place and I have driven it often over the last fifteen years and never stopped. The pond is on the edge of a hill and reaches out just far enough to caress the highway and make fishy passersby wonder at sixty miles per hour if there might be something swimming around in that shallow weed-choked water.

Why did the fat guys cross the road? Because they heard there was pike on the other side.

Up Next: Bartenders with boyfriends, a new nacho recipe, and we play another exciting round of "What Important Thing Did Aaron Leave at Home This Time?"

-Alex who brings the bacon.

Get It Done With

The Kids Are Into It
we like the witches
.. Such traditional silliness for an industrial society whose populus believes that food comes from cans and boxes and shopping carts.
.. Perhaps as old as Roman times, certainly most associated with the Scots and Irish, Hallowe'en thunders across the landscape just as big, (but not yet as commercial,) as Christmas, (give 'em time girls!)
.. For a welcome change, this year's Hallowe'en will probably be celebrated in our village where the sidewalks and streets are bare of snow and full of real costumes, instead of every little monster dressed up as a sledhead.
.. Novelty to be sure! Fear not there will be flurries but, last year's knee deep snow will be just a remembrance. The cold will still be with us.
.. The neighbors, (older farts and such,) are loving the very cold nights and galling the most recent run of fish from Hebgen Lake. Finally the waters from Yellowstone National Park are cold enough and inviting enough to lure the hefty-shouldered Brown Trout from the depths. Rejoice, those of you that are still hanging around. The fish are here, (finally,) in significant numbers and are eagerly biting hooks with all offerings imaginable.
JIMMY'S OWN - (replica)
.. In passing we note: "HEY JIMMY, WE LIFTED ONE OF YOUR WORMS,"
.. Found on the Internet last year, Jimmy has been fishing what he called the "THE DEVIL'S WORM."
.. It's a creation of BIGGERFISH and we finally purloined one. Jimmy has been outfishing all of us in the dredging department - and now we know why! The original is tied 'red' just like a San Juan Worm. Jimmy has been using orange, (for the season, he says.) This may replace our favorite seasonal fly the Haloween Leech.
.. For those of you that also enjoy the witches we suggest a click on over to SEXY WITCH. Adults only, please.
.. Over the years we've bumped into a couple of fisher folk that could both read and did appreceate poetry. In the belief that more than a few of our visitors are of such a mind we offer, below, the complete, (rarely found,) text of Robert Burns' Hallowe'en. 'Tis a bawdy sort of poem, full of magic, mystery, apples, hi jinx, dark barns, mirrors, boisterous goings-on, young girls, young men, old women, bushes, rivers, evening fun, prophecies, and the devil.
.. Go ahead and "Kindle Coothie," if you choose! You can even "grippet Nelly hard and fast," should you be of such a mind, -- it gets better! You will be rewarded if you make it to the end.


by Robert Burns
Upon that night, when fairies light
On Cassilis Downans dance,
Or owre the lays, in splendid blaze,
On sprightly coursers prance;
Or for Colean the route is ta'en,
Beneath the moon's pale beams;
There, up the cove, to stray and rove,
Among the rocks and streams
To sport that night.
Among the bonny winding banks,
Where Doon rins, wimplin' clear,
Where Bruce ance ruled the martial ranks,
And shook his Carrick spear,
Some merry, friendly, country-folks,
Together did convene,
To burn their nits, and pou their stocks,
And haud their Hallowe'en
Fu' blithe that night.
The lasses feat, and cleanly neat,
Mair braw than when they're fine;
Their faces blithe, fu' sweetly kythe,
Hearts leal, and warm, and kin';
The lads sae trig, wi' wooer-babs,
Weel knotted on their garten,
Some unco blate, and some wi' gabs,
Gar lasses' hearts gang startin'
Whiles fast at night.
Then, first and foremost, through the kail,
Their stocks maun a' be sought ance;
They steek their een, and graip and wale,
For muckle anes and straught anes.
Poor hav'rel Will fell aff the drift,
And wander'd through the bow-kail,
And pou't, for want o' better shift,
A runt was like a sow-tail,
Sae bow't that night.
Then, staught or crooked, yird or nane,
They roar and cry a' throu'ther;
The very wee things, todlin', rin,
Wi' stocks out owre their shouther;
And gif the custoc's sweet or sour.
Wi' joctelegs they taste them;
Syne cozily, aboon the door,
Wi cannie care, they've placed them
To lie that night.
The lasses staw frae 'mang them a'
To pou their stalks of corn:
But Rab slips out, and jinks about,
Behint the muckle thorn:
He grippet Nelly hard and fast;
Loud skirl'd a' the lasses;
But her tap-pickle maist was lost,
When kitlin' in the fause-house
Wi' him that night.
The auld guidwife's well-hoordit nits,
Are round and round divided,
And monie lads' and lasses' fates
Are there that night decided:
Some kindle coothie, side by side,
And burn thegither trimly;
Some start awa, wi' saucy pride,
And jump out-owre the chimlie
Fu' high that night.
Jean slips in twa wi' tentie ee;
Wha 'twas she wadna tell;
But this is Jock, and this is me,
She says in to hersel:
He bleezed owre her, and she owre him,
As they wad never mair part;
Till, fuff! he started up the lum,
And Jean had e'en a sair heart
To see't that night.
Poor Willie, wi' his bow-kail runt,
Was brunt wi' primsie Mallie;
And Mallie, nae doubt, took the drunt,
To be compared to Willie;
Mall's nit lap out wi' pridefu' fling,
And her ain fit it brunt it;
While Willie lap, and swore by jing,
'Twas just the way he wanted
To be that night.
Nell had the fause-house in her min',
She pits hersel and Rob in;
In loving bleeze they sweetly join,
Till white in ase they're sobbin';
Nell's heart was dancin' at the view,
She whisper'd Rob to leuk for't:
Rob, stowlins, prie'd her bonny mou',
Fu' cozie in the neuk for't,
Unseen that night.
But Merran sat behint their backs,
Her thoughts on Andrew Bell;
She lea'es them gashin' at their cracks,
And slips out by hersel:
She through the yard the nearest taks,
And to the kiln goes then,
And darklins graipit for the bauks,
And in the blue-clue throws then,
Right fear't that night.
And aye she win't, and aye she swat,
I wat she made nae jaukin',
Till something held within the pat,
Guid Lord! but she was quakin'!
But whether 'was the deil himsel,
Or whether 'twas a bauk-en',
Or whether it was Andrew Bell,
She didna wait on talkin'
To spier that night.
Wee Jennie to her grannie says,
"Will ye go wi' me, grannie?
I'll eat the apple at the glass
I gat frae Uncle Johnnie:"
She fuff't her pipe wi' sic a lunt,
In wrath she was sae vap'rin',
She notice't na, an aizle brunt
Her braw new worset apron
Out through that night.
"Ye little skelpie-limmer's face!
I daur you try sic sportin',
As seek the foul thief ony place,
For him to spae your fortune.
Nae doubt but ye may get a sight!
Great cause ye hae to fear it;
For mony a ane has gotten a fright,
And lived and died deleeret
On sic a night.
"Ae hairst afore the Sherramoor, --
I mind't as weel's yestreen,
I was a gilpey then, I'm sure
I wasna past fifteen;
The simmer had been cauld and wat,
And stuff was unco green;
And aye a rantin' kirn we gat,
And just on Halloween
It fell that night.
"Our stibble-rig was Rab M'Graen,
A clever sturdy fallow:
His son gat Eppie Sim wi' wean,
That lived in Achmacalla:
He gat hemp-seed, I mind it weel,
And he made unco light o't;
But mony a day was by himsel,
He was sae sairly frighted
That very night."
Then up gat fechtin' Jamie Fleck,
And he swore by his conscience,
That he could saw hemp-seed a peck;
For it was a' but nonsense.
The auld guidman raught down the pock,
And out a hanfu' gied him;
Syne bade him slip frae 'mang the folk,
Some time when nae ane see'd him,
And try't that night.
He marches through amang the stacks,
Though he was something sturtin;
The graip he for a harrow taks.
And haurls it at his curpin;
And every now and then he says,
"Hemp-seed, I saw thee,
And her that is to be my lass,
Come after me, and draw thee
As fast this night."
He whistled up Lord Lennox' march
To keep his courage cheery;
Although his hair began to arch,
He was say fley'd and eerie:
Till presently he hears a squeak,
And then a grane and gruntle;
He by his shouther gae a keek,
And tumbled wi' a wintle
Out-owre that night.
He roar'd a horrid murder-shout,
In dreadfu' desperation!
And young and auld came runnin' out
To hear the sad narration;
He swore 'twas hilchin Jean M'Craw,
Or crouchie Merran Humphie,
Till, stop! she trotted through them
And wha was it but grumphie
Asteer that night!
Meg fain wad to the barn hae gaen,
To win three wechts o' naething;
But for to meet the deil her lane,
She pat but little faith in:
She gies the herd a pickle nits,
And two red-cheekit apples,
To watch, while for the barn she sets,
In hopes to see Tam Kipples
That very nicht.
She turns the key wi cannie thraw,
And owre the threshold ventures;
But first on Sawnie gies a ca'
Syne bauldly in she enters:
A ratton rattled up the wa',
And she cried, Lord, preserve her!
And ran through midden-hole and a',
And pray'd wi' zeal and fervour,
Fu' fast that night;
They hoy't out Will wi' sair advice;
They hecht him some fine braw ane;
It chanced the stack he faddom'd thrice
Was timmer-propt for thrawin';
He taks a swirlie, auld moss-oak,
For some black grousome carlin;
And loot a winze, and drew a stroke,
Till skin in blypes cam haurlin'
Aff's nieves that night.
A wanton widow Leezie was,
As canty as a kittlin;
But, och! that night amang the shaws,
She got a fearfu' settlin'!
She through the whins, and by the cairn,
And owre the hill gaed scrievin,
Whare three lairds' lands met at a burn
To dip her left sark-sleeve in,
Was bent that night.
Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays,
As through the glen it wimpl't;
Whyles round a rocky scaur it strays;
Whyles in a wiel it dimpl't;
Whyles glitter'd to the nightly rays,
Wi' bickering, dancing dazzle;
Whyles cookit underneath the braes,
Below the spreading hazel,
Unseen that night.
Among the brackens, on the brae,
Between her and the moon,
The deil, or else an outler quey,
Gat up and gae a croon:
Poor Leezie's heart maist lap the hool!
Near lav'rock-height she jumpit;
but mist a fit, and in the pool
Out-owre the lugs she plumpit,
Wi' a plunge that night.
In order, on the clean hearth-stane,
The luggies three are ranged,
And every time great care is ta'en',
To see them duly changed:
Auld Uncle John, wha wedlock joys
Sin' Mar's year did desire,
Because he gat the toom dish thrice,
He heaved them on the fire
In wrath that night.
Wi' merry sangs, and friendly cracks,
I wat they didna weary;
And unco tales, and funny jokes,
Their sports were cheap and cheery;
Till butter'd so'ns, wi' fragrant lunt,
Set a' their gabs a-steerin';
Syne, wi' a social glass o' strunt,
They parted aff careerin'
Fu' blythe that night.

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Z Fish Report (10/27/11)

The blue water is still way out there. It has moved back out to about the 22 mile mark.
All around fishing is not good. We are experiencing 84 degree water up and down the coast, including the inshore, but we are being hammered by dirty water on the inshore, and the blue water being out beyond the normal day for a panga or cruiser to make a decent run to the fishing grounds, and spend time to fish.

About the only action from Zihuatanejo is the dorado bite at about 6 miles…but it is scattered. A perfect example was when the Huntress II went out with Captain Francisco and got two dorado, with one about 22 pounds, in the weed line about 10 miles out. They then went out to the 18 mile mark, and did not have a strike with a billfish.

Jose Pino told me the dorado action is very good down at Puerto Vicente Guerrero, with all of the action being at the 3 mile mark.

How can you tell a captain like Cheva the T-shirt given to him
 is for the champion cheer leading and dancing  finals? 

To the north of Zihuatanejo, and up near Union and Saladitas , there are lots of large sierras being taken on slow trolled Rapalas. A few roosters are also being taken on spin reels cast to the waves with a surface popper. But, the rooster bite is still off, and depends on finding clear water.

Ed Kunze

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

mountain creepy...


-Alex who has said all he has to say about that.

Weekly Special....

This weeks special is the Megabass zonk gateride. See here (scrolling through the pages) for the range of colours available. This special will finish on Sunday so do not delay as stocks are limited.

Tight lines.

I think he is doing it wrong

What the hell is wrong with people?

no this is not disturbing to me, but please don't abuse your gear.

-kyle, who is really bored this morning and can't wait to get back after the carp

Abandoned Run


Monday, October 24, 2011

Bridge To Safety

Delays Getting Longer
bridge beams in place

.. The new bridge and road alignment at Grayling Creek near the Yellowstone National Park Line is finally looking like a bridge.
.. We've not mentioned it much because it's only been a minor nuisance. After all, if you intend to fish the Gallatin River and it's tributaries then it's just another snag.
.. We also have trouble with the description of the problems being fixed: Both ascending and descending curves with diminishing radii of off-camber gradients. It means that one of the worst section of road in the state will now be a lot safer; especially in winter.
.. We endured the wait twice this last weekend and were rewarded with some fine and solitary fishing in our surprisingly gentle Autumn weather.
.. Report to follow.

Sunday, October 23, 2011

Could this be a good one...

Tides building and a window of opportunity appears...conditions look good from Tuesday on....

Its that time of the year...when every cast you make could result in a fish of a lifetime, the bass are filling up for the winter ahead and are in prime condition!

Tight lines....

Always gone.

When I am here, I am usually gone.

I am leaving soon so I was especially gone today.

Reality in four dimensions, so it would seem.

I was watching tv and eating a triscuit while unloading my pontoon and assembling a rod.
I was scrubbing myself in the shower and scratching my man-ness in the thin afternoon mountain sun.
I was driving to a job while paddling to a weed point, simultaneously yelling into my phone and whispering across calm waters while washing a dish in the sink and slime from my fingers in the lake.

What has already taken place will soon just have happened.

I can only hope that it will be as good as it was.

-Alex who packed his truck tomorrow and will tie some flies yesterday because he is always gone today.

Saturday, October 22, 2011

Word Of Mouth

Madison & Firehole Hot
follow the cars to fish heaven
.. The jungle telegraph is a wonderful thing. Whispers in the aisles of feather merchants are amplified by the retelling in the grocery store, post office, hardware store, and bank. They become open conversation in a matter of minutes. Texting is double-thumbed through the village and soon it's common knowledge that everyone should head to the river.
.. Within an hour excuses are made and an exodus of fisher folk are streaming to the appointed place. It's a social event and - fish be damned - everyone gets to the hot spot.
.. Usually the fish are gone, or the hatch is over, or visitors from elsewhere are there first. It matters not. The word has spread and the hot spots stay that way in current mythology for days or even weeks.
.. We appreciate this wonderful social mechanism. It sends people away from the waters that we like to fish. It's a boon to iconoclastic anglers, hermits, grumpy old farts, and our self.
.. Right now, as the hoards are flocking to the famous rivers we are leisurely fishing on the Gallatin River and a couple of it's tributaries. These waters have been abandoned and ignored by the most sage of jungle telegraphers.
.. The Gallatin River waters are forgotten and touted as "too cold," "done for the season," "not worth the effort," and other, wise insights. So we catch some fish, talk to the trees, sing to the bears, scare the elk, and leave the cell phone at home. We're pleased.

Friday, October 21, 2011

Z Fish Report (10/21/11)

Since Hurricane Jova passed by us last week, the 82° blue water has been out at the 20 mile mark, but in just this last couple of days it has come back in to about 10 miles. However, the inshore waters are just starting to clean up, and you have to travel a bit to find clean water if you want to fish for roosters. The inshore should all be cleaned up by early this next week.

Alan and Francisco with one of their three sailfish
 Early in the week, Alan and Sandi from California had a great day with Capt. Francisco on the Huntress II about 20 miles SW of Zihuatanejo releasing three sailfish and boating one dorado about 20 lbs on the edge of the blue water. All action occurred before noon and the party was back at the pier before 2.

Sandi with another

Today (Friday) fly fishing client Jim Coutre of Boston fished with Cheva at the helm of the panga Dos Hermanos, Adolfo Jr. the deckhand, and me as the guide. We had to search for the clean water, but when we found it, it was almost a rooster teased to the boat on ever cast. Granted, the roosters were small, but they are still beautiful, and a lot of fun on the fly rod.

Ed Kunze

To order a copy of my fishing book about fishing here on the West Coast of Mexico:

For a decent explaination to the seasons and best fishing for each species here in the Ixtapa /Zihuatanejo area check out this web site.

Jim with a small rooster

A frigate bird got wrapped in the teaser line while fishing with Jim
Cheva carefully unwrapped it and, because they cannot
 land on water or they will die, we waited for it to dry off.
Their 6 foot wing span, and having no oils to prevent the
 feathers from getting soaked is the problem.
He dried off, and then flew off just fine.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

Awaiting another salty trip

Can't wait to get back to Shelter Island, last time I was there I caught many different fish species, this time I plan on catching more.

When I was on the pier I had some "Crazy Charlies," They did great but the bait chuckers were using Ghost Shrimp. These were like crack to the halibut, croakers, turbots, and all kinds of bass.

Now I tied me up some ghost shrimp patterns, Lets hope they work.

And here is the live fucked up looking shrimp.
-Kyle, who wishes he had Alex's photo capabilities

Hey Smitty...

Remember when this happened to your fish?

via Trout's

They'll Not Like This

44°46'23.30" N
111° 07'32.65" W

.. Absolutely unmolested submarines that are willing to take a surface offering: preferably a mouse at dusk. Don't tell!

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

Weekly Specials....

We are starting our weekly offers which will be running throughout the winter. To start it off we have a great offer this week.

The Megabass X- 140 is on special this week for 5 days or, while stocks last . You can see the range of colours here and the the price for five days only. After the five days are up the lure returns to the original price so do not delay as stocks are limited.

Here are just two of the X 140s on offer....

Megabass X-140 SW (SG Teaser)

"The X-140 is a proven fish catcher with an irresistible action, this lure will also work in coloured water with its great flashing plate attracting hits from bass...."

Also later in the week we will be putting up a permenant offer of a great rod and reel combo for getting started in lure fishing...

And there will be much more to follow in the near future.... so bookmark the Specials Page to make sure you don't miss out.

On the fishing front now is the time to get out and try for the big bass.... there are reports coming into the shop daily now of some outstanding catches along the coast.

Tight lines....