TR: Frank, mudfish and the river

Yesterday morning Frank Church and I headed up to the river to fish for
smallies. We were to meet another friend, my main fishing partner for the
last 20 years - Mudfish, der rockit boat kaptan. Now muddie and I share a
common history of "ordeals"; in years past we've beaten a series of
trucks and other gear to death all over the Maine woods in search of the
mythical magic fishing spot, frequently getting into some sort of
predicament or having some tragic accident, or doing something that I
wouldn't recommend. We used to say "if it's not an ordeal then we're not
doing something right". Ahh the memories of misguided youth; if there is
a god forsaken bug infested bog deep enough for a trout anywhere in Maine
that I haven't gotten sucked into fishing I want to know where the hell
it is.

A scan of the appropriate weather web sites predicted a few light showers
and a 25% chance of an afternoon thunderstorm, so we were prepared for
all of that. Little did we know.....

Met mudfish at the takeout bridge about 8AM, left Frank's van and headed
up to the launch site.

Frank has a small pontoon boat, and I had my two. Frank's boat was
transported in my truck all assembled so after he watched mudfish and I
putting the banannas together for a while he decided to get on the water
and wait there, being an impatient soul. Well old guys have less fishing
left I guess.

Mudfish and I got the damn things put together with nearly a minimum of
fuss and launched to see Frank about 1/4 mile downstream standing on a
ledge casting away.

I quickly managed a small fish. Mudfish was still getting used to the
boat. Frank was into the fish good, taking one right after the other. As
we headed towards the first island it began to sprinkle so I pulled up
and put on my rain jacket (was already wearing waders), and then headed
down again. I managed another small fish as the rain began to get a bit
stronger. This turned out to be no "scattered light shower" but a steady,
frequently heavy rain of near biblical proportions. We got in to a few
more fish here and there, but Frank was kicking ass so mudfish and I
decided to switch from our minnow flies to a popper known as a sneaky
pete, Frank's favorite tool. Our fishing improved but the rain was
awesome. I had not tightened down the sleeves of my jacket and I had
water pooling at my elbows and wicking up through the shirt, making me
cold, wet and fairly miserable. Mudfish and Frank had better luck but
everyone was slowly getting soaked under their jackets either from the
rain, sweat or both. At this point in time we were perhaps a mile or so
down a 6-7 mile run. I was miserable, not "**** this I wish I was in
bed" miserable, just miserable in a typical ordeal sort of way. Plus my
tobacco supply was much worse for the wear, just another annoyance that
added to my misery. But we were catching fish, not just any fish but
decent smallmouth, averaging 14-15" with the big ones pushing 18-20".

Eventually, and I mean eventually the rain broke and the sun started to
peak through so I pulled up on shore soon to be joined by the boys. I
took off the rain jacket and packed it away, put on sunglasses and ate a
sandwich. We had a nice lunch. I had a fleece vest and put that on and we
headed out again.

Fishing was much improved, we had a wonderful time, one big fish after
the other as we drifted down the river, stopping here and there to work a
nice area. Eventually I pulled over to take off the vest as it was geting
warm and muggy, my shirt had pretty well dried and I was no longer
miserable.

So it went for hours, fish, fish, fish. Laughing at each other, snapping
pics, watching the bald eagle fly. It's all good.

Not long after we ran the last set of rapids we could see some dark
clouds moving in from the north so mudfish suggested that we pull up and
put on our rain gear. We pulled up on a shallow bar, mostly mud, and I
got out of my boat and pulled it back a ways into 2" or so of water where
it was not going to drift away. It was about 4pm.

Note to self, the next time when it warms up, dry out the jacket before
stowing. My jacket was soaked but as it began to sprinkle I put it on.
Looking upstream we could see a squall line headed our way that appeared
to be sporting some heavy rain.

When the squall line hit the wind whipped up to 40 or 50 kts and the rain
came down in buckets. Now mudfish is an old cheezehead and he said to me
"I don't like the way that wind came up", no douhbt he was remembering a
tornado or three. I grinned at him, and mumbled something about ordeals
and my old standard "We be jeepin' now" (a salute to my old Jeep
Commanche pickup, my first 4WD, the best 4WD I ever had and one that took
us to the site of many of our ordeals). We both grinned but I suddenly
saw my boat start to take off downstream, as was Frank's. So I ran out,
in the howling wind and rain, chasing the damn thing. I easily caught it
and pulled it back, this time all the way to shore so it was about 1/2 on
the bank. Frank decided to sit in his to keep it from taking flight. I
rejoined mudfish, who was standing against the steep cutout bank hiding
in the bushes. So we stood there muching on beef jerky, drinking soda,
smoking cigs, and singing "Minnie the moocher" while the storm raged
around us. The river had been whipped up from a glass surface to a raging
sea with 2 foot whitecaps. Mudfish and I discussed the downstream ride
one might have had if we hadn't pulled over when we did. We grinned at
each other and mumbled about our past ordeals in the woods while the
storm raged. There were the obligatory flashes of lightening followed
(shortly) by peals of thunder and nervous laughter.
"Hidey hidey hidey ho, heedee heedee heedee hee".....3 idiots in rubber
suits standing next to river in a howling thunderstorm singing Minnie the
moocher while eating beef jerky, now that's entertainment!

After 20 mins or so the wind died down and the rain lightened up
considerably. Mudfish decided it was time to fish again so out we went
into the light rains. We were coming up on a line of cribs (cribworks)
and Mudfish had taken a fish that ruined his sneaky pete so he put on an
old foam frog popper. For the rest of the day mudfish ruled the river.
Those smallies were mental for the damn thing. I left all mine in the
basement (feck feck feck) but still managed a few fish here and there,
the best being a nice smallie of about 19".

Probably the funniest thing of the day was Frank's "big" fish. Just
before we knocked off for the day Frank hit a fish along the western
shore. He immediately screams get here now because this is the biggest
fish of the day and I want a pic. He kept fecking with the fish so I
finally went down to see what it was all about. The fish appeared to have
wrapped itself around a stump or something because Frank couldn't move
it. I said, "break it off Frank he's feckd you and wrapped on something"
Frank says "no no no I can still feel the fish". So I heckled him about
it. "Frank" says I "quite feckn with that fish and put the wood to it".
"Frank what sort of wimpy korean piece of **** are you using for a rod?".
So it went for several minutes. All of a sudden the fish takes off again
and starts towing Frank and his little bananna boat accross the river.
Finally the fish comes to the top, not a bad fish, 16" or so but it's not
hooked in the mouth, it's hooked backwards in the gill plate. It was
quite humorous watching that fish all but kick his ass.

Our take out was uneventful. 11 hours after launching. I estimate we took
80 to 100 fish between the three of us. Not a bad day at all.

Frank and I were supposed to do it again today, but Frank is a crispy old
chap, and he is plum tuckered out, so he's sleeping in the bed in his van
as I type this, enjoying the pleasant afternoon breeze.

Flyfish

"Flyfish" wrote in message
...
Yesterday morning Frank Church and I headed up to the river to fish for
smallies. We were to meet another friend, my main fishing partner for the
last 20 years - Mudfish, der rockit boat kaptan. Now muddie and I share a
common history of "ordeals"; in years past we've beaten a series of
trucks and other gear to death all over the Maine woods in search of the

Big old snip...

Flyfish

This is why I wade through tons of BS.

Thanks.

"John Richardson" wrote in message
...

"Flyfish" wrote in message
...
Yesterday morning Frank Church and I headed up to the river to fish for
smallies. We were to meet another friend, my main fishing partner for
the
last 20 years - Mudfish, der rockit boat kaptan. Now muddie and I share
a
common history of "ordeals"; in years past we've beaten a series of
trucks and other gear to death all over the Maine woods in search of the

Big old snip...

Flyfish

This is why I wade through tons of BS.

You should try fishing with some of these guys.

Thanks.

You're welcome.

Wolfgang

On Sun, 20 Jun 2004 16:11:58 -0500, Flyfish wrote:

Yesterday morning Frank Church and I headed up to the river to fish for
smallies. We were to meet another friend, my main fishing partner for the
last 20 years - Mudfish, der rockit boat kaptan. Now muddie and I share a
common history of "ordeals"; in years past we've beaten a series of
trucks and other gear to death all over the Maine woods in search of the
mythical magic fishing spot, frequently getting into some sort of
predicament or having some tragic accident, or doing something that I
wouldn't recommend. We used to say "if it's not an ordeal then we're not
doing something right". Ahh the memories of misguided youth; if there is
a god forsaken bug infested bog deep enough for a trout anywhere in Maine
that I haven't gotten sucked into fishing I want to know where the hell
it is.

[snipped]
Our take out was uneventful. 11 hours after launching. I estimate we took
80 to 100 fish between the three of us. Not a bad day at all.

Frank and I were supposed to do it again today, but Frank is a crispy old
chap, and he is plum tuckered out, so he's sleeping in the bed in his van
as I type this, enjoying the pleasant afternoon breeze.

And a lovely day it was today - in stark contrast to yesterday ;-)

80-100 fish is one hella good day for three. And it's very cool that section
is still so hot...

/daytripper (Glad you did good, wish I was there...)

Flyfish wrote in
:

"Hidey hidey hidey ho, heedee heedee heedee hee".....3 idiots in
rubber suits standing next to river in a howling thunderstorm singing
Minnie the moocher while eating beef jerky, now that's entertainment!


And you didn't have to be there, to enjoy it!

Great TR,

Steve

Simply fabulous TR!
Tom
.....who wishes today's fishing in PA went better, but it was good to be out, at
least.

"John Richardson" wrote in
:


This is why I wade through tons of BS.

Thanks.

.....there ain't much I can add to that TR, except those damned smallmouth
have left me with a sore arm and shoulder. We plan do this again in
September at which time I should have recovered fully and ready for another
round with those bronze rockets. We had the whole river to ourselves so
those that weren't there missed out on a whole lot of whooping and
hollering as one after another of us hooked into another fish. This is the
stuff that memories are made of.

a grateful and tired..

Frank Church
...who should be in traction instead of driving 1100 miles home tomorrow.

On 21 Jun 2004 00:54:51 GMT, Frank Church
wrote:

"John Richardson" wrote in
:


This is why I wade through tons of BS.

Thanks.

....there ain't much I can add to that TR, except those damned smallmouth
have left me with a sore arm and shoulder. We plan do this again in
September at which time I should have recovered fully and ready for another
round with those bronze rockets. We had the whole river to ourselves so
those that weren't there missed out on a whole lot of whooping and
hollering as one after another of us hooked into another fish. This is the
stuff that memories are made of.

a grateful and tired..

Frank Church
..who should be in traction instead of driving 1100 miles home tomorrow.

That was some great smallie fishing, eh? I'm tellin' ya, Dave and/or Ed could
do worse than guide a MacKenzie boat down that stretch for a little side
action to pay for the toys ;-)

/daytripper

Flyfish wrote in message 2...

SNIP

wouldn't recommend. We used to say "if it's not an ordeal then we're not
doing something right". Ahh the memories of misguided youth; if there is
a god forsaken bug infested bog deep enough for a trout anywhere in Maine
that I haven't gotten sucked into fishing I want to know where the hell
it is.

Great stuff!

"We be jeepin' now" (a salute to my old Jeep
Commanche pickup, my first 4WD, the best 4WD I ever had and one that took
us to the site of many of our ordeals).

Cool.

Flyfish


Thanks for sharing this. Fun and very well done.

Steve

Flyfish wrote:

Yesterday morning Frank Church and I headed up to the river to fish for
smallies.

Great report!

That sounds like quite a fishery. It's the same river that Tripper
posted about? Any ideas why it's so good?

Willi