|My fly rod after casting for a few minutes|
If you regularly read this blog, you may get the impression that I like fly fishing for carp. Well I don't. I fucking hate it. At least in an urban or suburban environment. I probably have hepatitis or some other third world disease from fishing this nasty water. I wish I could say I lived in a "real" fly fisher's paradise but I don't. When one mentions fly fishing- it conjures up the idealize, romantic image of fly fishing- gin clean water, blue clean skies, casting tight loops to rising fish, classical music playing in the background. In SoCal this is not the case; I fish in the complete opposite. I envy those who live just minutes to clean clear trout waters. Ed always tells me, when he went to school in Montana, he would never be but about a 15 minute drive from some beautiful clean trout water. Me, I live hours away from anything resembling clean water. So I fish for carp out of convenience and out of economics. Anyone who claims he loves fly fishing for carp, you should be wary of him. It means he has something not right in his head. It's the fly fishing equivalent to guys who dig fat chicks. No man in their right mind should be into fat chicks. Yet some are. That's got to tell you something. Must have been dropped as a baby or something.
The plan was to meet Chul on the water at 11 as he got off work earlier than usual. I arrived early to the parking lot to find a pair of cute girls talking beside their cars after their jog. I made a poor attempt at trying to flirt with the cuter one until I noticed the child seat in the back of her Prius. Mission aborted. Moving on. They left and Chul arrived not long after.
After he kitted up we headed under the bridge to see if any carp remained in this area. It look like they have all move on and are now in the deeper portions of the river. We moved back and spotted a carp here and there. None were actively feeding. Moving downstream, the water only became darker and deeper so we crossed the river in search of some castable fish. After about an hour I got bored and started casting at fish. On the this side of the bank the fish were much easier to see but like my last outing with Alex the fish were rather tight lipped.
|Chul after touching that nasty ass water|
Chul moved on and ended up recrossing to the other side, in doing so stepped into some of the quicksand and dunked his leg with ass water up to the knee thereby filling up his rubber boots. He went back to the truck to change while I was still at the same area on the other side of the river. I managed to get one to bite and he ran a bit but right when I called out Chul's name the fish came unglued. Typical. After that we made a few more casts until Chul had to call in quits and leave so I decided to give up and get some lunch at my favorite Thai place.
|The only redeemable thing today.|
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