Fly Fishing Book

   So tonight I got a hard time from my friends.   They said my blog wasn't flyfishing with all my antique lure posts. 
   whatever


I told them..... wait a minute...
you think I'm not fly fishing????    I got the shit that's gonna blow your mind.. .   .  .
It"s a book.
            about Fly Fishing.
  As old as Jeeps, and total one of-a-kind.
              

...found  at the bottom of a beat up tackle box that was bought at a Ct drive-in flea market...... It's importance from both an antiquers, .. and a Fishermans eyes was visible immediate... upon further reading,,

So to you two fishing buddies tonight at Two-Dollar Beer Night.... who I can't believe I've never shown this to before, (probably because the BOOK) has been cloaked deep within the depths of my  tying cabinet for years,.


Here's one of the greatest Fly Fishing antiques I've ever found

I have read this book over and over,   cover to cover, yet every time I read it, I learn something new.

Amazing Antique Fishing Lure Stash Found !!!!!!!

  I had to make it down towards the Connecticut river today, for some other boring adult chores, but while in the area, why not check out the local fishing shop.... can't hurt, and besides, my wife even suggested that I swing by while I was in the area.   Thank Goodness I did!
  This, I believe, was one of those once-in-a-lifetime events. The cosmic planets of antique fishing lures aligned, and I was in the right spot at the right time. just by chance.
     As I walked into the shop, I was greeted, per usual, by a dog. A black lab, or maybe some similar hunting breed... but always the same, I give him a good pet on his head, get a nice smile and wag of his tail, and I was left alone.  First off, I bang a left and head straight for the tying supplies. This store specializes in salt-water stuff, but recently they must have heard the cries of trout fishermen, and beefed up the store with some feathers, supplies, etc. Basically, it looks like they took a small leap into freshwater supplies, and I was pleased to pick up some CDC, wood-duck, and tinytiny beads.  (http://www.riversendtackle.com/) Way to go!
After I was all set staring at all the new shit, I noticed a small group of boat-type striper fishermen crowding around the front counter all interested in somethin.... but what??
    as I got closer, I immediately noticed what it was. and I was on it like a magnet.
Story unfolds....
   Somebody's grandfather died, and this local in front of me thought he could get some $$ from the store. I'm pretty sure they were friends, and everybody was talking, and holding various lures up, saying things like "remember these.."  "would-ya look-at that..." and "this thing is cool looking..."
   the store employee said "if there was any big 12" shit I could hang on the wall, I'd be interested"  Hah!!! you kidding me? I guess we have different interests, so I won't delve into other comments.
 I pretty-much threw bows, and crowded myself to the front, discussed lures, met the seller, and ended up the lucky owner of.... drumroll....... (2) tackle boxes, stuffed with all the stuff I collect.   These were from a man who used to fish for Pike/Musky in Alaska in the 1950?1960's.  Obviously he cared for his tackle, by keeping stuff organized, separated, and even rust free (cork trays) in what must have been, at the time, a top of the line, oversized, tackle box. this man must have been a fanatic, and I am proud to now own his box.  some of the contents tell a story of how dedicated/prepared he was when it came to his fishing. ...

 I could bore everyone with stories about how cool I think but instead, I'll show you some photos, and let you comment if you like them, and what you remember about old fishing tackle, or what kind of tackle you collect... Enjoy

 there were a few handmades, and old spoons/spinners. that spinner above left is near a hundred years old or older!

 outboard motor shear pins, fuses, band-aids, and matches. this guy was ready!

 mousing for trout isn't a new fad..... this one was 24 cents. beat that .93 flies!

 Pat. Us/Canada 1874!!!

The Trout Blind

I grew up next-door to a state park, and finding a hunters blind as a kid was not all that uncommon. Sometimes simple stick piles resembling my idea of a Sasquatch nest, sometimes elaborately woven cat-tail Man-towns in the middle of acres and acres marshland that make you feel lost at sea.   The spent 12ga shells are usually the only thing left behind by the previous occupants.  however, sometimes, these hide-aways are pondside, streamside, or situated so that a long stretch of stream can be observed.

This Little hole in the woods, known secretly by  four fly-fishermen as the 'trout blind' can be a magical spot.  Even if you aren't pulling in brookie after brookie, it's easy to get distracted just watching the trout rise for hours.  

   Usual course of action is... 

1. Be quiet, and sneak into position.

2. Open a beverage, spark a smoke, and watch for at least ten fifteen minutes. 

3. Match the insects you have observed, and cast a dry fly at the rising trout. 

4. catch trout

5. Repeat steps 2-4

More often than not, this works out just fine. 

I like collecting old bottles I find in the woods, or at tag sales, and then using them.  This one today was filled up with some homemade thrice distilled hard cider.  kinda like whisky, just more apple-y. this 6ish oz bottle was just enough for me and my accomplice.  My wife's father is named John, I think that's what made me pick this one up at a yardsale, however, we have no family from Mass.  John, like the rest of our families, is from S.E. Conn.

ok... mood is set, its quiet enough to hear the trout rising.

there were the usuals.. Caddis and stones & shucks floating in the water.   (and whatever this thing is....

as it turns out, the trout were eating emerging stones. as well as the occasional large mystery bug above the film. (many large leaps were seen, where these flies were taken out of mid air!) {by 6" brookies}

 The first brookie to hand escaped the camera, partly because as I was trying to net him, a slip on the snowy moss streamside sent my right foot into freezing water, and in-turn, gave just enough slack to allow an escape off of a barbless hook. two smaller fish were taken, although camera-shy.

time spent in the woods is priceless.   (that's fisherman S)

 If you ever come across this spot, or one like it, keep it quiet&clean&secret.  {poachers honor}