Featured Photo: Native Colors
Monday, April 09, 2012
Pigs Beware
While wandering the rugged eastern Cumberland Plateau in search of new fishing holes, I came across an area where the locals are putting a hurt on the pig population...no, not big fish, I mean literal pigs. After shooting them and skinning them out, the hunters apparently hang the skin and/or head on the fences. I'm not sure if they are showing off their hunting prowess or trying to send a message to the pig population. Regardless, it was an interesting diversion from my drive through the country although my camera is still revolting against any responsibility for these slightly disturbing pictures...
The Professional
Having a professional photographer around can be a nerve wracking experience. Anyone who has ever been in a professional studio knows what I'm talking about. Sit like this, turn your head slightly to the left, drop your chin, place your hands here....you get the idea. Fortunately, that demanding attitude that is so necessary to getting a good shot does not always carry over into real life outside of the profession. On our trip to the Everglades, we had a genuine photography/filmmaker professional along for the ride, and it was definitely a treat. Tanya Not only did she shoot a lot of video of the trip to put together a short movie of the experience, but she also shared her knowledge and we all became better photographers because of it.
Having four DSLRs on a trip is a great way to get multiple perspectives. Each person focuses on a different aspect so the sum of their perspectives can give a much more well-rounded view of the trip. The following are a collection of pictures that Tanya graciously sent me to use. My first request was obviously for some fishing-related pictures, but I also mentioned that any other really cool shots would be nice.
If you are interested in seeing more of her work, or in need of a professional photographer for shooting weddings or anything else, check out Tanya's blog. All of the following photographs are by Tanya Musgrave.
Tanya behind the lens of her camera...
Having four DSLRs on a trip is a great way to get multiple perspectives. Each person focuses on a different aspect so the sum of their perspectives can give a much more well-rounded view of the trip. The following are a collection of pictures that Tanya graciously sent me to use. My first request was obviously for some fishing-related pictures, but I also mentioned that any other really cool shots would be nice.
If you are interested in seeing more of her work, or in need of a professional photographer for shooting weddings or anything else, check out Tanya's blog. All of the following photographs are by Tanya Musgrave.
Lightning!!!
Along with spring comes the return of thunderstorm activity. Several recent storms have produced some dramatic skies which I love to document with my camera. Two recent storms passed at night, giving me a great chance to shoot lightning. The first storm produced a much more dramatic sky but the second had some interesting lighting as well as lightning.
Monday, April 02, 2012
Lostman's Five Version 2.0
One of the most relaxing parts of the Everglades trip was spending extra time at Lostman's Five. Two nights was just about perfect for recuperating from the paddling of the past 3 days. The wooden platform that was built upon the site meant we were able to sleep perfectly flat. Best of all, we paddled up towards the freshwater Glades, began seeing alligators and birds......lots and lots of birds.
On the first morning (second day) at Lostman's Five, we woke up to find a Black Vulture sitting atop the porta-potty. Apparently the terrible odors wafting out smelled more like breakfast to the bird. Before eating breakfast, I had good shots of a Turkey Vulture flying over as well as a Brown Pelican. While not an avid birder, I do enjoy seeing and taking pictures of birds. Basically this means that I like to see them but can't always accurately identify them which is kind of nice. I prefer to keep some of my hobbies uncomplicated.
Alligators appeared with regularity, often sunning on the banks, sometimes floating half-submerged while keeping a cautious eye on us. Some of them were rather large, or at least, it seemed so to us. A canoe can suddenly seem rather small when it is sharing the water with an alligator nearly as large. Still, they are generally shy and did not pose any serious problems.
Our hopes to paddle all the way to pure freshwater were not realized as we ran into a dead end pond with the water still brackish. On the way, we saw many birds as well as lots of fish. A particularly large snook had me wishing I had been fishing upstream instead of paddling. By the time it rocketed past the canoe I knew any hope of catching it was gone.
As the afternoon wore on, we all started to get hungry. Returning to camp, we spent the remainder of the day relaxing, eating a good meal, and preparing mentally for the big day ahead of us.
After eating, I tried to be creative with the camera. The next day was going to be tough and I wasn't sure if I would have many opportunities to get the camera out once we made it to the big water along the Gulf of Mexico.
As evening descended, a large alligator swam slowly past camp and up Lostman's Creek.
Can you find the alligator in this picture?
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Slowing Down
Have you ever been on vacation only to realize that everything is still moving way too fast? Often I find that I don't really start to slow down and relax until the third day of a trip, and so it was in the Everglades.
Normally on trips, I use my camera to document as many experiences as possible. Part of the joy for me is in the photography itself, not to mention that it's nice to be able to look back on the trip in a tangible way sometimes. In the Everglades, I didn't even take out my camera until the second day on the water, and then only for a couple of pictures. By the third morning, I woke up relaxed and refreshed (finally, I might add) and immediately set to work using my camera.
The morning quickly turned stormy as a powerful cold front, responsible for a major tornado outbreak in the Tennessee and Ohio valleys a couple of days earlier, was bearing down on south Florida. The good news? The wind would finally be at our backs, making paddling a joy instead of a painful chore. The bad news? Storms were forecasted. Thankfully, one storm cell went to our east, and another skirted off to the west, but we only received a five minute shower with occasional sprinkles the rest of the day.
Arriving at our home for the next two nights, a campsite called Lostmans Five, we set about drying wet gear from the morning rains. After quickly pitching my tent, I grabbed the camera to document our camp and everyone else still putting up tents and organizing gear.
Lostmans Five is a great little campsite that picks up any west or northwest breeze off of Lostmans Five bay. The campsite is a ground site, but a raised wooden platform covers the camping area since the low ground is prone to being muddy. An outhouse is perched on the end of the small dock, leaving one to wonder what happens when a hurricane comes through. Thankfully it wasn't hurricane season so we felt relatively safe using the facilities.
Sitting on the end of the dock, I drank in the scenery. Occasionally birds would fly by across the bay and the water itself was mesmerizing. I could watch the gentle waves for hours, although exploring sounded pretty good as well.
That evening, we paddled up Lostmans Creek a few hundred yards and then drifted back down with the tidal current. I had brought the fly rod along and fishing the current felt just like drifting down a tailwater throwing streamers for trout. Ladyfish were very prevalent in this wild 'Glades stream and finally, right around a point in a textbook ambush spot, I found another snook. This one was a little nicer than my first...
A beautiful sunset lit up the sky. The clouds had long since cleared out as the front was now well south of the area. We fixed something to eat, and appreciated the relative absence of mosquitoes from the area. Finally we all went to bed, thinking about paddling east into the wild Everglades the next morning.
Normally on trips, I use my camera to document as many experiences as possible. Part of the joy for me is in the photography itself, not to mention that it's nice to be able to look back on the trip in a tangible way sometimes. In the Everglades, I didn't even take out my camera until the second day on the water, and then only for a couple of pictures. By the third morning, I woke up relaxed and refreshed (finally, I might add) and immediately set to work using my camera.
The morning quickly turned stormy as a powerful cold front, responsible for a major tornado outbreak in the Tennessee and Ohio valleys a couple of days earlier, was bearing down on south Florida. The good news? The wind would finally be at our backs, making paddling a joy instead of a painful chore. The bad news? Storms were forecasted. Thankfully, one storm cell went to our east, and another skirted off to the west, but we only received a five minute shower with occasional sprinkles the rest of the day.
Arriving at our home for the next two nights, a campsite called Lostmans Five, we set about drying wet gear from the morning rains. After quickly pitching my tent, I grabbed the camera to document our camp and everyone else still putting up tents and organizing gear.
Lostmans Five is a great little campsite that picks up any west or northwest breeze off of Lostmans Five bay. The campsite is a ground site, but a raised wooden platform covers the camping area since the low ground is prone to being muddy. An outhouse is perched on the end of the small dock, leaving one to wonder what happens when a hurricane comes through. Thankfully it wasn't hurricane season so we felt relatively safe using the facilities.
Sitting on the end of the dock, I drank in the scenery. Occasionally birds would fly by across the bay and the water itself was mesmerizing. I could watch the gentle waves for hours, although exploring sounded pretty good as well.
That evening, we paddled up Lostmans Creek a few hundred yards and then drifted back down with the tidal current. I had brought the fly rod along and fishing the current felt just like drifting down a tailwater throwing streamers for trout. Ladyfish were very prevalent in this wild 'Glades stream and finally, right around a point in a textbook ambush spot, I found another snook. This one was a little nicer than my first...
Catherine McGrath Photograph
A beautiful sunset lit up the sky. The clouds had long since cleared out as the front was now well south of the area. We fixed something to eat, and appreciated the relative absence of mosquitoes from the area. Finally we all went to bed, thinking about paddling east into the wild Everglades the next morning.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Crazy Trip: Little River Report
Fishing trips, while always anticipated, tend to fall into a predictable routine with predictable results. In general, I know what to expect when I fish Little River. Fish will be caught, including some nice for the Smokies fish of 10", 11", maybe even 12-14" and at least some of those will be browns although never as many as I would like. When I am fortunate fish will be caught on dry flies consistently although I tend to gravitate towards nymphs.
Some trips, however, seem to take on a life of their own, complete with surprises that lurk around every bend in the stream and in each large bend pool. This past weekend I experience such a trip.
Originally scheduled as a backpacking trip to #24, we bailed at the last minute because of the forecast which suggested that backpacking might be a little miserable. Intent on still visiting my beloved mountains, I decided that a car camping trip to Elkmont was in order. I headed up with minimal gear, still in a backpacking frame of mind, and prepared to fish wherever the wind blew me.
When I was ready to fish, the wind was calm, but my instincts guided me up the Little River trail. This is probably my favorite place to fish in the Park. The likelihood of solitude and willing trout is always a great combination for an enjoyable day on the water. Wandering up the trail with the intent to put miles behind you is a torturous experience. There are so many great spots that beg for a fly. If you want that solitude and stupid fish though, it is normally best to not give in to the temptation to stop too soon.
A brief stop in two nice pools to look for big browns afforded the opportunity to have a breather and even eat a bite. When I finally started fishing seriously, I was fairly certain that I didn't have another angler in front of me, at least not close to worry about fishing used water for the day.
Moving slowly up the river, I quickly noticed that the fishing was not "normal." In other words, the fish weren't gobbling up nymphs like I am used to under standard conditions. After some experimenting as well as observing the insect activity, I settled on a dry/dropper rig with a parachute Adams and a bead head dropper. The action picked up substantially after that switch. Every once in awhile a fish would rise to the dry but most fish were eating the dropper.
Several nice rainbows came to hand but mostly I didn't bother with the camera. Standard rainbow trout pictures did not interest me, but then something happened to change my mind. I was fishing a small flat adjacent to a much deeper run when a small fish ate the dropper. As it came closer I was shocked to see a brookie. This fish was easily 3 miles below where I would expect to find it. The scars on its back seemed like it may have had an encounter with a large brown trout recently. Regardless, I decided that it was time to take out the camera.
With the motivation to finish the Smokies slam, I was soon taking pictures of other trout, first a couple of nice rainbows and then a brown.
Before long though I had another interesting event. While I have experienced catching two fish at once before, specifically with white bass as well as with bluegills, I have never done it in the Smokies on trout before. When I hooked two rainbows, one on the dry and one on the dropper, I decided it was time for pictures again.
Continuing up the stream, I took some time from fishing to take pictures of the beauty surrounding me. The banks of the stream were just beginning to wake from the winter slumber. High on the slopes above, the first leaves of the spring were making an appearance. Wild flowers bloomed along the trails. The banks of the stream were swept clean by the high waters of winter. The moss on the banks and rocks seemed to be an even more vivid green than normal.
Despite the fun I was having taking pictures, the stream kept drawing me back. So I continued, up amongst and over the rocks, past steep rapids and deep runs, and the stream continued to yield its trout. Quill Gordons, Blue Quills, and even a March Brown or two started to hatch. Quill Gordon spinners also made an appearance. Brown Stoneflies as well as a few Little Yellow Stoneflies were popping out of the water as well.
By the time I came to the deep pool, its surface was covered with bugs and trout were rising with abandon. The first few casts yielded three fine trout, two rainbows and a brown. Everything was proceeding as is generally expected. Bugs were hatching, fish were eating, it was a fly fisherman's paradise.
Things started to get weird when I noticed a rise far out in the middle of the pool. "A small rainbow," I thought. The cast landed perfectly two feet upstream of the fish and it ate very predictably.
Things really got strange as I was fighting the rainbow. It began to act like it was not just running from me when a golden blur behind explained the poor rainbow's actions. A big brown was closing for the kill and I realized I had the perfect opportunity to catch two fish on one fly. As the line became very heavy, my excitement level naturally increased dramatically. Something did not seem right though. The brown had too much leverage. When I caught another glimpse, the rainbow seemed to be gone and the brown was acting funny.
Apparently, as the big brown closed for the kill, the trailing dropper snagged it right in the rear. I was now fighting a much larger fish, but was attached to the wrong end. A few short moments later, I got everything under control and decided that I might as well take a picture. I can appreciate big trout even if I don't count it as a caught fish.
Not long after, I hiked out for the day. Stopping at a pool I had fished earlier, I finally tricked a nice rainbow that had eluded me the first time through. The fish slammed the parachute Adams.
Back at camp, a heavy thunderstorm soon rolled in over the hills and I retreated to the relative safety of my tent to wait out the rain. Much later, I got up and prepared a quick supper before going to bed. I was tired and wanted to be ready for another fun day up the trail.
Day two proceeded much the same as the first day with one important exception: the fish showed a definite preference for the dry. In fact, after fishing an hour or so, I finally just took off the dropper because I did not want to deal with the hassle of the extra tangles. Some sections of stream proved easier to fish than others. The water was still on the high side although definitely very fishable.
Again, several pools had nice hatches coming off. Quill Gordons are still making an appearance in the mid elevation streams. Little Yellow Stoneflies are beginning to hatch as well. Wild flowers are blooming in the mountains and the dogwoods are just starting to make an appearance. This is a magical time of year in the mountains and should continue to produce excellent fishing for the next couple of months.
Some trips, however, seem to take on a life of their own, complete with surprises that lurk around every bend in the stream and in each large bend pool. This past weekend I experience such a trip.
Originally scheduled as a backpacking trip to #24, we bailed at the last minute because of the forecast which suggested that backpacking might be a little miserable. Intent on still visiting my beloved mountains, I decided that a car camping trip to Elkmont was in order. I headed up with minimal gear, still in a backpacking frame of mind, and prepared to fish wherever the wind blew me.
When I was ready to fish, the wind was calm, but my instincts guided me up the Little River trail. This is probably my favorite place to fish in the Park. The likelihood of solitude and willing trout is always a great combination for an enjoyable day on the water. Wandering up the trail with the intent to put miles behind you is a torturous experience. There are so many great spots that beg for a fly. If you want that solitude and stupid fish though, it is normally best to not give in to the temptation to stop too soon.
A brief stop in two nice pools to look for big browns afforded the opportunity to have a breather and even eat a bite. When I finally started fishing seriously, I was fairly certain that I didn't have another angler in front of me, at least not close to worry about fishing used water for the day.
Moving slowly up the river, I quickly noticed that the fishing was not "normal." In other words, the fish weren't gobbling up nymphs like I am used to under standard conditions. After some experimenting as well as observing the insect activity, I settled on a dry/dropper rig with a parachute Adams and a bead head dropper. The action picked up substantially after that switch. Every once in awhile a fish would rise to the dry but most fish were eating the dropper.
Several nice rainbows came to hand but mostly I didn't bother with the camera. Standard rainbow trout pictures did not interest me, but then something happened to change my mind. I was fishing a small flat adjacent to a much deeper run when a small fish ate the dropper. As it came closer I was shocked to see a brookie. This fish was easily 3 miles below where I would expect to find it. The scars on its back seemed like it may have had an encounter with a large brown trout recently. Regardless, I decided that it was time to take out the camera.
With the motivation to finish the Smokies slam, I was soon taking pictures of other trout, first a couple of nice rainbows and then a brown.
Before long though I had another interesting event. While I have experienced catching two fish at once before, specifically with white bass as well as with bluegills, I have never done it in the Smokies on trout before. When I hooked two rainbows, one on the dry and one on the dropper, I decided it was time for pictures again.
Continuing up the stream, I took some time from fishing to take pictures of the beauty surrounding me. The banks of the stream were just beginning to wake from the winter slumber. High on the slopes above, the first leaves of the spring were making an appearance. Wild flowers bloomed along the trails. The banks of the stream were swept clean by the high waters of winter. The moss on the banks and rocks seemed to be an even more vivid green than normal.
Despite the fun I was having taking pictures, the stream kept drawing me back. So I continued, up amongst and over the rocks, past steep rapids and deep runs, and the stream continued to yield its trout. Quill Gordons, Blue Quills, and even a March Brown or two started to hatch. Quill Gordon spinners also made an appearance. Brown Stoneflies as well as a few Little Yellow Stoneflies were popping out of the water as well.
By the time I came to the deep pool, its surface was covered with bugs and trout were rising with abandon. The first few casts yielded three fine trout, two rainbows and a brown. Everything was proceeding as is generally expected. Bugs were hatching, fish were eating, it was a fly fisherman's paradise.
Things started to get weird when I noticed a rise far out in the middle of the pool. "A small rainbow," I thought. The cast landed perfectly two feet upstream of the fish and it ate very predictably.
Things really got strange as I was fighting the rainbow. It began to act like it was not just running from me when a golden blur behind explained the poor rainbow's actions. A big brown was closing for the kill and I realized I had the perfect opportunity to catch two fish on one fly. As the line became very heavy, my excitement level naturally increased dramatically. Something did not seem right though. The brown had too much leverage. When I caught another glimpse, the rainbow seemed to be gone and the brown was acting funny.
Apparently, as the big brown closed for the kill, the trailing dropper snagged it right in the rear. I was now fighting a much larger fish, but was attached to the wrong end. A few short moments later, I got everything under control and decided that I might as well take a picture. I can appreciate big trout even if I don't count it as a caught fish.
Not long after, I hiked out for the day. Stopping at a pool I had fished earlier, I finally tricked a nice rainbow that had eluded me the first time through. The fish slammed the parachute Adams.
Back at camp, a heavy thunderstorm soon rolled in over the hills and I retreated to the relative safety of my tent to wait out the rain. Much later, I got up and prepared a quick supper before going to bed. I was tired and wanted to be ready for another fun day up the trail.
Day two proceeded much the same as the first day with one important exception: the fish showed a definite preference for the dry. In fact, after fishing an hour or so, I finally just took off the dropper because I did not want to deal with the hassle of the extra tangles. Some sections of stream proved easier to fish than others. The water was still on the high side although definitely very fishable.
Again, several pools had nice hatches coming off. Quill Gordons are still making an appearance in the mid elevation streams. Little Yellow Stoneflies are beginning to hatch as well. Wild flowers are blooming in the mountains and the dogwoods are just starting to make an appearance. This is a magical time of year in the mountains and should continue to produce excellent fishing for the next couple of months.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)