When Carp Fishing is Heavenly

There are days when turbid water, wind, and the devil clouds conspire to make carp fishing darn difficult. There are days when the water is clear, the wind blows lightly and the sky is blue; oh, but wait, there are almost no fish to cast to.  Heck that's even worse than the bad conditions!  I have to remind myself that if carp fishing was easy everyone would be doing it.   

There are days when the conditions are tolerable and there are still very few fish.  There are days when the conditions are tolerable but I'm still seeing a good number of targets and getting hook ups; those are great days.  There are days when the conditions are good and I'm getting lots and lots of shots.  When I can cast to those fish rather than reaching out and just dropping the fly in front of them, those days are heavenly.

On my last trip to the Carp Lodge I fished several days.  One of my days was heavenly.  It sounds like kind of a silly word to describe a session but when I got back to my carpwagon as I was getting my boots off I said to myself, "That was heavenly".  It really was.  I was getting so many shots and hooking up so often I just didn't want to get out of the river to take any pictures where I was holding the fish.  I was fishing a two fly rig with a Chocolate Cherry on top and Black Betty as the dropper.  They took both flies.  There were virtually no clouds, the wind was light and the water was clear enough that I was casting a fair distance to tailing fish.  

All the hook ups made me feel more clever than I actually am.  Lets be objective here--I don't have a 20+ fish day when I only see 10 or 12 fish.  It just isn't possible to catch more fish than I see.  On this day I was blessed to be fishing in a very target rich environment with receptive fish.  Indeed, it was heavenly.  

I laughed at myself and the carp laughed at me too

In 2004 when I started carp fishing I had no interest in blogging or posting fish pictures online.  The years passed and that changed a good deal.  But not completely.  There are still days where I just can't be bothered even taking the camera out.  Sometimes setting up a picture of myself holding a fish just takes more time and effort than I am willing to spend; I would rather just release the fish and go catch another one.

The fish in this next picture made me smile.  I saw the take and he ran in to the backing.  After netting him we walked in to the shore together.  I took Black Betty out of his mouth and left him in the shallow water.  The camera was set up on a rock.  It appears that ten seconds wasn't enough time to press the shutter button, step back to the fish, and pick it up.  Was the fish trying to tell me something?  I tried again to get a picture and didn't do as well.  Maybe the fish was whispering to me. On the third try I depressed the shutter button, turned, and watched the fish swim away.  That fish was definitely trying to tell me something; he just wasn't going to be photographed with me holding him.  Maybe he was trying to tell me to go back to the beginning and just get a picture of him near me while he was in the water and we were still dancing.  Or maybe he was telling me to just not take the camera out at all.

He made me smile because I saw him take the fly, he made the reel sing, he brought out the backing, and he fled the scene while I was trying to get his picture.

As he swam away I laughed at myself and I'm pretty sure the carp laughed at me too.