Sunday, August 16, 2015

August Hot

With daytime temps this week reaching near the 90's, and the SMB bite in full swing, it was decided that Sunday would be spent chasing them around the big river.  KZ confirmed a "go" and was cool with my suggestion that RS join us.

I met RS at the prescribed time and place and he jumped in my truck for the 45 minute haul to the launch.  We had just enough time to string up our rods before KZ pulled up with his jet sled in tow.

Wading out into the river to assist with the launch was pure bliss.  I never took a temp but the warm river water was at least cooler than the air.  Everything from my knees down thanked me.

The river had dropped since last week and I marveled at how well the jet handled in all the skinny water.  It must have been pretty obvious to RS, who was seated on the casting deck, why a prop motor would have a tough time on this water.  With the sandy bottom sliding past only inches under the hull, we skimmed upstream to start fishing.

The winds were kicking like hell and the sun was bearing down but it seemed a fine place to be.  RS stuck a fine 16" fish right out of the gate and got the skunk out of the boat.  We made our way down river trading off rowing, anchoring up or stepping out to wade. 

We found enough smallmouth to call it a "good" trip, added a few white bass in the mix to keep it interesting, sweated sunscreen in our eyes, cursed the wind and even broke a rod.

It was August hot and we were just fine with it.

The vultures circled until they saw the Yeti full of sustenance.


Feeder up and say "aaaaaaaah"

RS with a healthy specimen

SMB -Boated

Walk and wade prize

KZ Steppin' down

Power stroke

RS - Knee deep

The Quarry

RS with the one handed tail grip on a Whitey

KZ with sand between his toes

The big river

Sunset White Bass

RS Keepin' an eye out for targets

Sandhill Cranes - A quick shot from the Jet Sled heading home.

Sunday, August 9, 2015


Sometimes, a guy with as much love for fly fishing as I have, a Sunday afternoon and eager smallmouth are all that is needed.

After a long week of the worldly distractions that make us wonder if we're sane, a quick text exchange set me up with a Sunday on the river with KZ. 

His boat, his gas, his gig.

The kid is, well , a kid.  Heart of gold, enthusiasm to challenge even mine, infectious smile that goes on and on....
...casts like a pro,
rows like his house is on fire
and giggles every time the flies (his or mine) tease a bass up. 

I like that.

Thanks KZ, for the river therapy.