This Bear is Coming Out of Hibernation

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Spring is well on its way here in Logan, and Logan Canyon is following closely behind. The Logan River is flowing about a foot higher than it normally is, and the water is getting pretty murky from all the sediment and debris being stirred up by the faster and more turbulent water. I got out yesterday after work and spent about an hour fishing. I didn't catch (or see) any fish, but it was still good to get out and get my line wet. After all, I don't need to catch a fish to have fun fishing.

After I was done, I walked through a grove of trees and thought I should make a few photographs. Here are a few that I came away with:

Adventures in Rod Building

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The first fly rod I ever had was one that I built myself about 14 years ago. It was pretty fun and rewarding fishing with a rod I'd built. So, I decided to build another rod this month. I either wanted to go with a heavier, longer rod, such as a 7 or an 8 weight rod to go after bigger fish like steelhead and carp, or a lighter, shorter rod such as a 2 or a 3 weight for better access on the Logan and the Blacksmith Fork Rivers. Since I spend most of my time on the smaller streams, I decided the better choice right now would be to build a lighter rod, and I had my eye on the Sage VT 2, 3 weight, and 7'9" long. I got the blank and all the components at the beginning of this month, and got to work.

In a nutshell, building a rod goes like so:
One of the first steps in building a rod is to find the spine. Then the placement of the line guides are measured and marked on the blank. Another step in the process is to epoxy the reel seat and the cork grip to the butt section of the rod. Then the guides can be placed on their marks along the blank, and taped to the rod, after which thread can be wrapped around each side of the guide. After all the thread is wrapped, thread finish (a flexible epoxy) is applied to the thread wraps and let to cure. After about 10 days, the rod is ready to fish with.
I photographed some of the steps along the way throughout the process:

The cork grip can either be bought pre-shaped, or you can get cork rings, and epoxy and shape them yourself for a complete custom grip, and that's what I chose to do (and this was the most fun part of the whole project; if you think you want a custom grip, let me know, I'd be glad to make it for you).
Here is what mine looked like right after I'd epoxied each individual cork ring together that would make up the grip:


The rings are put on a piece of all-thread, with a few wing nuts on either side, then spun in a lathe, or, if you go the cheap route like me, it's spun with a drill, using sandpaper of varying grits to shap it. Here's my grip beginning to take shape:


And here it is finished:


Before the reel seat is put on the rod, two arbors need to be made (using either tape or graphite arbors that can be bought) that the reel seat will sit on.


Here's the butt section with the reel seat and grip epoxied:


The first guide that gets epoxied to the rod is the tip top guide:


Here's the blank all marked out for the guides and spine:


And here are all the guides taped in place, and ready for thread:


Wrapping thread is probably the most tedious and probably the most critical step. Wrap it too loose, and the guides will be easier to break off and out of alignment; too tight, and they change the flex of the rod, and risk breaking the rod.


Here's the finished product:


I'm really pleased with how it turned out, and it casts like a dream, though it took a little while to get used to casting such a light and short rod. Despite the crummy weather today I couldn't stay off the river, and went up to my favorite stretch of the Logan for the rod's inaugural trip. After trying a few nymphs with a few yarn strike indicators that I'd made myself, which failed miserably, I switched to Royal Wulff. A few casts later, a good size Brown Trout rose. I missed the hook set, and I whipped the fly off on my next forward cast. I decided to put on a chartreuse Humpy, and two casts later I'd hooked into the fish:


I was just happy to be casting on my creation, but to catch a 14" brown on it's first outing really made my day.


Falls River

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This weekend I got to go up to Idaho and see the family, and do some fishing on the Falls River. When my dad, brothers and I all got into fly fishing, the Falls River was the first place I remember going after we'd all gotten our rods and reels, so it was good to return after having not fished that river in I don't know how many years. And it was all made better by the fact that my dad, and two of my brothers, Casey, and Riley came along as well.
On the way to the river, we drove past this burned and collapsed potato cellar, and I had to photograph it:


The stretch we always went to along the river was under an old rail road bridge. In the years we've not gone there, the bridge has been made far safer than it ever was. There are now cable hand rails, and an even deck on the ties, so there's no more danger in falling. I kind of liked the idea of risking life and limb crossing the bridge back in the day. It kept you on your toes.

After fishing the Logan River and Blacksmith Fork all year, it was a bit of a new experience fishing such a wide river again, and it really wore my arms out having to cast so far. After a few casts and a few fly changes, I finally caught a whitefish on an X Caddis. Then a little while later, after tying an Olive Serendipity to the bend of the hook of the X Caddis, I hooked into a nice Rainbow Trout. He was in the 14-ish inch range (I really need to get a tape measure), and fought like a mule. I finally landed him, and my dad got this photo:


After we'd finished fishing, we hiked back to the car, and I grabbed my camera and returned to the river to make this photograph:


Saturday, the whole gang got together at McCowin Park in Ammon for an awesome lasagna lunch, and to take some family photographs. If any of you saw pigs flying this weekend, or saw the weather report from Hell and saw it had frozen over, the reason is because I finally made "people" photographs. This is what the Duncan Clan looks like as of October 16, 2010:


A Very Successful Weekend

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Lately I've been suffering from cabin fever. With decent camping and fishing weather fading, I've been trying to get out as much as possible. Friday, I headed up Logan Canyon after work and pitched my tent along Right Hand Fork, a tributary to Logan River. I spent the evening photographing, and came away with these:


Saturday morning, I got up early, broke camp and was on the river with my fly rod at 7:30. I only saw two fish the whole morning, one of which shook itself off of my fly. After I'd had enough of not seeing any fish, fighting snags in trees, and wind knots, I put the rod away, and got my camera out and came back to this little riffle:


Afterwards, I drove further up the canyon to Red Banks, cooked lunch, and then started fishing again. Two casts after getting in the water, I had a 14-ish inch Cutthroat trout on; my first Cutthroat ever. A few casts after that I hooked into another 14-ish inch Cutthroat. A little further upstream, I saw a nice pocket that looked to maybe be holding a fish, and sure enough, the second I placed my Red Humpy on the water, a fish struck, I set the hook and the fight was on. After a short fight, I finally had the beautiful Cutthroat in my net. It was the biggest fish I'd ever caught, and measured about 16 inches. After not seeing any success at all in the morning, I was feeling pretty good about the afternoon. I continued upstream, catching a few small 6-8 inch fish, and a few others 10-14 inches. After a tippet change, I put the Humpy back on, and started heading to a hole I knew holds plenty of fish. Just a few yards downstream, I cast my fly to a small pocket, which sucked the fly under the surface a few inches. I saw the flash of a green back, and a white mouth, and set the hook. It didn't take long to know I had another big fish on. He swam upstream to hole after hole, and when he jumped out of the water, I had a good idea of just how big the fish was. He finally swam to the hole I was headed to, where I finally landed him. He didn't even fit in my net. Without a real tape measure, I couldn't get an exact measurement, but he was about 2 inches longer than the longest measurement of my net, which is (according to the specifications) 17.25", so I figure he was in the 20 inch range. I really wish someone was there to photograph this gorgeous fish, or somehow find a way for me to photograph them myself without stressing them more than necessary. After I'd landed that one, I figured it was a good way to end the day, so I packed up and headed home. All in all, it was, as the title of this post suggests, a very successful weekend.


Logan Canyon

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This weekend I went up fishing on the Logan River. The stretch of river I wanted to fish was already taken, so I went downstream a few miles and fished a stretch I hadn't fished before. Sometimes when I'm out fishing, I see parts of the river that I need to photograph, and this trip was one of those times. I went back there tonight and came away with these:

I don't know how this car got to the bottom of the canyon (this stretch is about 100 feet below the highway), but it made for a good place to hold fish. I saw a few rise this weekend, though none were interested in anything I cast to them.

Fall is in full swing up the canyon, and the leaves are turning yellow, red, orange and all shades in between. It's really quite gorgeous up there. Here's just a sample:


This hole was pretty deep. I had my tripod fully extended, which go up to about 6' 6" not including the head. I worried the current would shake the camera, but the photograph is as sharp as any other, even though I didn't quite like how it turned out.


Island Park

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This weekend my ward went up to Island Park, and not willing to let the opportunity to go Home again pass by, I had to go up as well. So on Thursday right after work I pointed my car north to best place on earth. After a few hours of sleep, I got up early Friday morning and went to Big Springs to make and remake a few photographs that I made about eight years ago when I was first getting in to large format. These new ones are digital.


We all stayed at Buttermilk Campground on Island Park Reservoir, and when I wasn't casting flies on Henry's Lake Outlet or there at the reservoir, I was busy with my camera making photographs.


Island Park

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This summer a few of my brothers, and sisters, my mom all worked at Island Park Scout Camp again, and I was able to go spend a week and a half with them and help the staff at camp, and just plain escape civilization and live in a tent for ten days and reset my mind. It felt really good to get away from the heat of Logan, and into fresh air and return home to the Sego Lilies, Sage Brush and Lodgepole Pines, and clear, starry skies. For ten days I didn't have to worry about work, email, rush hour traffic, or anything else I have to deal with in civilization.
Although I didn't get out to fish the Madison or the Firehole or the Henry's Fork or any other river in the area, I did wet my line a couple times in Pete's Puddle in camp and managed to land a few Brook Trout. And I did get my camera out a few evenings.


One of the evenings I snuck away and went to Warm River Springs to make some photographs. The clouds in the sky were pretty amazing, but I couldn't make much of anything with them where I was right then, but I think I came away with a few pretty decent photographs that evening.


Despite quite a bit of drama in camp the last part of the week, it was a real good ten days. On Sunday my brother Lucas and his wife were able to come up, and my brother Jesse's fiance was up there, so all eleven and a half of us Duncans were able to spend some time together up there, and for that afternoon, all was right in the world.
I love how being in that place takes away all worries. But, as all good things must come to an end, camp and my vacation time ended, and life and work will go on.

White Pine Lake

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This weekend I escaped to White Pine Lake in the mountains east of Logan. I think I needed this trip more than I needed the City of Rocks trip last weekend. I know I came back a lot more invigorated.
I'd only been to the lake once. It sits in a bowl about four miles north of Tony Grove Lake, and about 6 miles west of the main highway in Logan Canyon. Two mountains sit directly to the north (Mt. Gog) and south (Mt. Magog) of the lake, connected by an arc-shaped band of cliffs. Here's what the area looks like from Google Earth:


I left the parking lot at Tony Grove lake at about 6:45 a.m. yesterday, and arrived at the lake at about 8:38 a.m. I spent the day fishing, and totally getting skunked, napping, meditating, and photographing and just enjoying the gorgeous place I was in.
There were a lot more people and campsites there than I had thought there were, and hoped there would be (people have to camp in established camp sites at the lake). For much of the day yesterday I had to deal with hearing people in the campsite next to me shout at their dog, and other people who didn't know how to build a proper fire, and then put someone's fire out who left it smoldering and smoking. But after about 2 or 3, there were only 3 other groups beside myself, and it got a lot quieter and I was able to enjoy some silence. Once the light got half way decent I got my camera out and made some photographs:

I have to wonder if these cliffs have ever been climbed. There were about four or five real nice looking lines, with a lot of variety in the moves to get up the rock. The photograph doesn't really do them justice, but I had to photograph them anyways.


Mt Magog:


I like to photograph my camp sites when I'm out on the trail, and this time I thought it would be fun to make a self portrait out of it:


All in all, it was a great 29 hours in the woods that I wish hadn't had to end.

City of Rocks

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This weekend I went to the City of Rocks and met up with my friend Renee for some rock climbing.
It was a trip 7 or so years ago to photograph in the City that got me into climbing in the first place. Now, 7 years later, I finally have come full circle. Though I only topped out 2 of the 3 climbs I went up, it was a really good trip. One that I needed, for many reasons which I won't bore you with here. This trip marked many firsts in my climbing experience: my first time really climbing on granite (I played around on a few boulders in Little Cottonwood Canyon when I lived in Salt Lake), my first crack climb, my first real liebacks, my first route that was more than 40 feet high, and my time playing around with placing trad gear (I have Renee and a guy in our group to thank for almost all of those achievements). It was an exhausting but highly rewarding trip, both physically, and photographically. Actually, the photographing was exhausting, but it was pretty successful. It'd been about 6 years since my last trip to the City, so it was good to be back. The geologic features eroded into the granite always amaze me.


This is probably my most favorite rock in the City, with perhaps one of the best looking lines to climb. I didn't get to climb that route this trip, but someday I'll climb it.


Photographing in Logan Canyon...and Blacksmith Fork Canyon yet again

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Today I headed up Blacksmith Fork Canyon again to do some fishing, but I broke my leader as I was stretching the coils out of it, and I didn't have any spares, so I decided to head up Logan Canyon and up to Tony Grove to see if Tony Grove Lake was accessible yet or not. It turns out it isn't. There is still a lot of snow on the road about a mile below the lake. I turned the car around and headed back down the mountain. On the way back to the main highway, I saw a small stream from the runoff, and had to see if there were any photographs to be made, and I came away with these:

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'm not sure this is the best way to photograph this tree, but I thought this lone pine tree was rather interesting:


After almost two years I'm finally feeling comfortable with photographing the landscape here around Logan, specifically in Logan Canyon, which has felt somewhat visually claustrophobic to me. It's hard to single subjects out and isolate them the way I like to, but over the last few months I've found it easier to see good photographs.

After I got done photographing along the road to Tony Grove, I headed back down Logan Canyon, and took a detour up Right Hand Fork.
Lately I've really been drawn to photographing scenes with a stationary object that is a relatively minor element in the photograph, with the majority of the objects in the photograph in motion. Like in this photograph:


After I was done in Right Hand Fork, I came back to town, got a few new leaders for my fly line, and replaced the broken one. This evening I returned to Blacksmith Fork Canyon to photograph the dam some more:

 

 


 

Blacksmith Fork Reservoir

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This week I heard through the grapevine that salmon flies were starting to come out up Blacksmith Fork Canyon, so I decided to head up there this evening after work to get in on the action. It turned out that I didn't see a single salmon fly, but there were tons of midges and mayflies hatching everywhere, so I tied a pale yellow size 18 F-Fly on, and started casting. It wasn't long until I had an 8" brown on, which I landed and released. A little ways further up the river I missed two strikes on the same fly. Then even further up I hooked into what felt like a pretty big fish, but he got away. Two casts later, same thing. I hooked into it, but he still managed to shake loose.

Overall, I'm pretty proud of myself, even if I only landed a small fry.


Afterwards, I went back down to the reservoir to make a few photographs that I'm pretty pleased with:


Blacksmith Fork

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Today I went up fishing in Blacksmith Fork Canyon. I've only been up that canyon once, and it was a year ago, and I really had no idea what the fishing was going to be like. It turns out it was pretty good. I stopped at a few places near the mouth of the canyon to see what the water level looked like and if there were any fish holding anywhere. Eventually I found a nice looking stretch of water. I couldn't see any fish in the water nor did I see any fish rising to any of the small midge flies flying around, and there were some Blue Wing Olive Mayflies starting to come off. So I tied on an F-Fly, and headed upstream. I saw a few fish making their way past me upstream, so I knew there were plenty of fish about, but they didn't want anything to do with whatever I tried casting to them.

After walking and casting about 500 yards upstream I came to a nice bend with a deep undercut bank, and decided to change tactics. I put on a more or less original pattern I tied up this week. It's essentially a stimulator, or stonefly pattern, but instead of peacock herl for the body with a segment of floss, I used peacock ice dubbing for the whole body, with the usually elk hair tail and wing, and brown hackle. I also tied a Copper John to the stimulator to try to get to the fish that I was sure were under the bank.


After a few casts, I missed a hard strike at the stimulator. I made a few more casts without any more rises to the stimulator, and if there were any strikes at the Copper John, I totally missed them. I then took the Copper John off, and replaced it with a CDC Caddis I got at the Snake River Fly Tying Expo a few weeks ago. Two casts later I had a fish on the stimulator. I was surprised at how hard he fought, but I finally landed this nice Brown Trout:


On my way up the canyon, I passed this section of the river just above a dam, and had to make this photograph:


I Fish Because I love To

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"I fish because I love to; because I love the environs where trout are found, which are invariably beautiful, and hate the environs where crowds of people are found, which are invariably ugly; because of all the television commercials, cocktail parties, and assorted social posturing I thus escape; because in a world where most men seem to spend their lives doing things they hate, my fishing is at once an endless source of delight and an act of small rebellion; because trout do not lie or cheat and cannot be bought or bribed or impressed by power, but respond only to quietude and humility and endless patience; because I suspect that men are going along this way for the last time, and I for one don't want to waste the trip; because only in the woods can I find solitude without loneliness; because bourbon out of an old tin cup always tastes better out there; because maybe one day I will catch a mermaid; and, finally, not because I regard fishing as being so terribly important but because I supspect that so many of the other concerns of men are equally unimportant--and not nearly so much fun.

--Robert Traver (a.k.a. Judge John Voelker), Trout Madness