Andrew Marshall Wayment's Blog, page 8

Renegades, Root Beers & the Avett Brothers

Andy and I just finished our 4th annual Colorado fly fishing whirl-wind tour this past week. Traditionally the Arkansas River has a CFS around 1600 where we can wade the banks and throw big ugly bugs to voracious trout…but not the past two years. Colorado has had wet/cold spring causing delayed runoff. No despair…we Wayment brothers know how to prevail in the face of a challenge.

The first day we found ourselves on the west side of the Sangre de Cristos (note to self…saw lots of good looking blue grouse country near Poncha Pass) on our way to the Gunnison region to fish a couple very nice wild trout creeks we’ve fished the year previous. The runoff was still underway but we found plenty of pocket water. The trout were pretty selective even though we were in the midst of a killer bug hatch…green drakes, PMDs, sallies and a plethora of larger stone flies. Our saving grace were green drake patterns that Andy had brought from Idaho. The fish in these creeks are very nice for the size of the water. Andy has really gotten into Tenkara (HA GAY!) and has proven to me the effectiveness of this simple way of fly fishing. He spanked my butt! Andy landed 3 to 4 fish to each one that I hooked. Couple highlights of the first day were a little reservoir we fished above one of the creeks that we caught fish after fish and kept a few for the smoker. Another one for the memory bank is when we were fishing in a beaver pond and the weather turned south and we decided it wasn’t the smartest idea to be standing in water while lightening was striking all around us. We got pummeled by a hail storm. Finally…nothing tastes better than a Boylan’s root beer after a phenomenal bug hatch.

Andy and I finished the day at a Colorado SWA creek that is loaded with nice wild but very selective trout. These trout kicked my rear last year…and we found that the most effective fly was a good ol’ Renegade. Renegades would be our go to fly for the remainder of the weekend.

The next two days we fished a bunch of local creeks around Campo Dulce (my cabin and sanctuary in the Wet Mountains). Tyler Sessions graciously tied us up some Renegades and met us at Barry’s Den at Texas Creek Junction for our traditional yummy pre-fishing breakfast. We had a phenomenal time fishing two local creeks with great top water and nympning action.

That evening Andy and I ventured into Westcliffe to view the local fare and get some more Boylan’s to restock the icebox. Andy and I had our tradition archery shootout and smoked trout on the little chief while our best friend Matt Lucia made us a spectacular AK salmon dinner.

Our final day was special! We met Josh Houchin at Berry’s Den for breakfast. We hiked down to the Arkansas to see if she was fish able but the banks weren’t wade able due to the 2500 CFS. We decided to chase beautiful greenbacks at 9 to 10,000 feet in the Sangre de Cristos in Can’t Tell Ya Creek. What an incredible way to finish out our weekend. Andy and I really dig True Saddness, the Avett Brothers new record and our song of the trip was Smithsonian. Can’t wait till next year cause I’m gonna kick Tenkara’s butt!!

QUALITY VS. QUANTITY?

What do anglers hope to take away from a day of fishing?  I think many anglers would say they want to catch a lot of big fish each time they go out, but the reality is that big fish are tougher to catch and you’re not going to catch as many.  How do you think they got so big in the first place?  Oftentimes, the choice of where to go fishing boils down to a question: Do you want quality or quantity?  In other words, do you want to catch a bunch of smaller fish or would you rather catch one or two big fish?

Is it all about big fish? 

Since I started fly fishing over twenty years ago, I have been all over the spectrum at one time or another.  As a greenhorn, I just wanted to catch as many fish as I could and size didn’t really matter. And then, I learned about big rivers, streamer fishing and big fish and that became my passion for a few years.  Lately, I’ve been content to fish smaller streams with a tenkara rod and have enjoyed the simplicity and the solitude.

Last weekend, the quality vs. quantity question came to the forefront.  I had my heart set on fishing a small creek near the Wyoming-Idaho border.  Let’s call it, “June Creek.”   In my experience, a few big fish run up this creek from another famous fishery and I find them when the runoff starts to drop and the water clears in early June.  It’s a fun creek where you can experience both quality and quantity without the crowds.

Friday night I asked a good friend to come along, but he wanted to fish the Henry’s Fork.  He texted me later that night, “Hmm, I think I’d rather float. What say ye?”

I responded, “I’m really leaning toward June Creek . . . .there’s no guarantee we’d see any stone flies.”

My friend shot back, “Or fish over 6 inches on June Creek.”

“I feel pretty confident they’ll be there.” I texted back.

I had my mind made up that I would go to June Creek, even if it meant going alone.

Later my friend texted, “Green Drakes on north fork, hot.  10-2.  Good night.”

Here I faced a dilemma.  I seriously wanted to fish June Creek and felt certain it would be good.  However, I also wanted to fish the famed Green Drake Hatch on the Henry’s Fork.  What to do?

“Alright, I’m in,” I reluctantly responded.

We didn’t make it to the river until about 10:00 a.m., but we immediately observed multitudes of fisherman and drift boats.  After all, it was “Free Fishing Day” in Idaho. Furthermore, the skies were overcast and a steady wind blew, which is not the best weather for drakes.  Admittedly, I was a little disappointed, but I tried to shrug it off and make the most of the situation.

Andy and Brigham float fish the Henry’s Fork.

 

We saw a few drakes hatching, but the constant wind must have put the hatch down.  There were times we thought that the Green Drakes might erupt because of the birds hovering over the river, but the hatch just never took off.  All said, we boated two good fish that rose to drake patterns.  The fish that I hooked was a dandy and he gave me a good fight.  I thought he might break my rod when he tried to duck under the boat, but the Winston held.  I was thrilled about catching the fish and stated out loud, “That fish just made my whole day!”  Other than this three minutes of thrilling action, the day was pretty uneventful (except for the hook in my ear from my friend’s son . . . Ouch!!!).

In reflecting on this experience, I have wondered what I missed at June Creek and considered where I would rather have been that day.  There was a time that I would have chosen the one big fish on a dry fly over 20 small to middling trout any day.  However, I can’t say that anymore.  As much as I enjoyed catching that big fish, if I had to do it over again, I would probably choose the solitude and the smaller fish of June Creek.  Heck, there may have even been a chance at a few nice fish that day.  So why the change?

Henry David Thoreau is attributed with saying: “Many men go fishing all of their lives without knowing that it is not the fish they are after.”  So, this begs the question: What then are we fishing for?  I’ve come to realize that the answers may vary widely, depending on the individual.  For me, at this stage of my life, I am fishing for a memorable experience, a moment of peace in a troubled world, a few spikes of child-like thrill, quality time with my children, and a few moments of grace.  These are the qualities that I seek while fishing.  The fish are now only a part of the equation, not the equation itself.  I am not arguing that these qualities cannot be found on famous (more crowded) rivers.  Rather, they seem  easier to find lately on lesser-known creeks.

Now that’s quality!

 

 

 

 

ICE COLD BREW

Besides tacos, nothing wraps up a fishing or hunting expedition quite like an ice cold brew.  Some of you may think I’m talking about beer, but I’m a Mormon so I don’t drink alcohol.  I’m actually talking about root beer; not the brands you buy in plastic two liter bottles (although some of them such as Barq’s are quite good), but rather the gourmet kind you have to go out of your way for.

Whenever my good friend Matt Lucia comes to my home (usually for a hunting and fishing outing), he brings a six pack of gourmet root beers for the adults that we put on ice and a two liter of Shasta root beer for my kids.  As we drink the icy cold beverages, we laughingly state that the kids “got the Shafta!” (No offense Shasta!  I actually like your root beer)  Needless to say, my kids are always excited when “Uncle Matt” comes to our house and, of course, ask if he is bringing root beer.    

Over the years, I have tried a number of gourmet root beers and I can say that I never met one I did not like.  I used to collect empty root beer bottles until my wife threw out my collection (which was already relegated to the shelf near the dog kennels downstairs) because she thought it was dusty, ugly and tacky. (Is nothing sacred?!!!) 

I have narrowed down my top ten favorites, which I wanted to share with the readers of Upland Ways.  The first two are my favorites, but the rest are great and are listed in no particular order:  

1.        Thomas Kemper (I love that it is sweetened with honey and that it’s from the northwest, but it sure is hard to find around here!)

2.       Henry Weinhards (I love the smooth and creaminess of this brew.  It’s hard to beat when its ice cold). 

3.       Tommy Knockers (I love that its brewed in Denver and you got to love the crazy prospector on the bottle).

4.       Boylans

5.       IBC

6.       Stewart’s (It’s pretty easy to find and just a good all-around root beer). 

7.       Virgil’s

8.       Sioux City Sarsaparilla (just a solid brew in a cool, old fashioned bottle). 

9.       Snake River Sarsaparilla (for those from Eastern Idaho, this comes right out of Jackson Hole). 

This has to be the coolest labeling of any of the gourmet root beers.

 

10.   Barrel Brothers (such a good vanilla rootbeer!)

Some of my best hunting memories are after the hunt is over and the dogs are being watered, the fallen birds are admired or photoed, backs are slapped, jokes are exchanged, and someone pulls out a little ice-filled cooler and starts passing around the ice cold brews.  The refreshing, earthy taste of the root beer compliments so well the uplands during October–the very height of creation.    At such times, one cannot help but feel gratitude for the upland shooting life. 

Ross’s first sharptail and ice cold Henry Weinhard’s root beer to celebrate . . . can’t beat that!

I’d love to hear about your favorite root beers!  Drop me a note below. 

 

 

 

                    

Colorado Mountain Merriam’s & A 1937 NID Ithaca 16 Bore

Snow…it’s been the story of my spring season…the days I’ve been able to escape from work it has snowed 10 to 12 inches.  I’ve been patiently waiting to see the caddis & BWO’s bring hungry browns to the surface on my beloved Arkansas River and hear the Merriam’s love cry reverberate in the nearby Sangre de Cristo mountains of southern Colorado.  Star Wars day…May the 4th…awoke with perfect spring weather and sunshine.   O’dark-30 arrived with the dogs not happy that it’s turkey season and not quail, and I hurriedly drove to the mountains.  I wasn’t surprised to find the roads impassable because of heavy drifts from the past weekend’s blizzard.   I parked a few miles from my usual spot and gathered my gear to make the long hump into Merriam’s country.  This year I wanted to try to harvest a turkey with my 1937 NID Ithaca double 16 bore choked Modified and Full.  The snow was a foot deep inmost places making the going slow.  I figured I wouldn’t be able to climb to the level where I’ve seen the toms display in the previous seasons, so my plan was to find a spot with the most turkey sign and wait.  I found a bare spot under a large ponderosa pine and got settled in.  6:30 a.m. I heard several gobbles below me and only one above me.  At 7:10 I heard a helicopter flush from the burnt roost trees above me and then not another sound until 8:30 a.m.   I pulled out my  box call and made a few yelps and immediately a gobble sounded above me on the strutting ground I had discovered the year before about 75 to 100 yards directly uphill.  My thought was I should have been up there this am but the snow was crusty and too deep.  I called again 15 mins later and he immediately cut me off right behind me.  My heartbeat quickened and skipped a beat or two (shouldn’t have had a coke on the drive this a.m.).  Suddenly a hen started to loudly alarm Putt Putt Putt.  My gut reaction signal to the cranium was Hell she’s behind me and I’m hidden behind this freaking large ponderosa how the heck can she see me and I haven’t moved!  I thought it’s now or never and spun around the tree on my knees to see the gobbler in full strut 25 to 30 yards directly above me.  I shoulder the NID and pulled the back trigger like an instinctive quail shot.  The tom tumbled down the hill as I hooted and holler!   What a mountain trophy bird!  This tom I passed on twice last season because I’d been chasing a huge tom that repeatedly made an ass out me.  Andy calls me the World’s Luckiest Turkey Hunter…I’ll gladly take that!  

SAGEBRUSH HUNS by ROSS YOUNG

The Wayment Brothers have been friends with Ross B. Young on Facebook for years.  You may have heard of Ross or seen his beautiful hunting and fishing artwork.  I wrote a blog post about Ross’ book, The Way it Should Be, which features his excellent work.  Ross and I teamed up in The Ruffed Grouse Society Magazine with my article, “The Heartbeat of the Woods” and Ross’s painting, “Old Gates Ruff” (a favorite of mine which hangs on my office wall.

Last October 1st, Shawn and I got to hunt for the first time with Ross.  Having spent a day afield with him, I can attest that Ross is a true sportsman and a real gentlemen.  I wanted to share a few moments from that banner day.

On the morning of our hunt, Ross and I took a few sharptails at a covert we call the Royal Macnab.  Shawn was too busy shooting the breeze with Ross to capitalize on his opportunities (which was kind of a bummer because it was his birthday).  This was the first Columbian Sharptail that Ross had the good fortune of taking. I have a strong premonition that it will not be his last.

Ross’s first Columbian Sharptail.

After the sharptail hunt at the Royal Macnab, we decided to chase some Huns at a covert we call, “Tommy’s Covey.” Even though this was a long way out of Ross’s way, he wanted to keep hunting which increased his stature even more in the Wayments’ eyes.  We drove to Tommy’s Covey and decided to hunt down the grassy strip which runs for more than a mile along the road. It took us a while to find birds, but we moved some nice coveys down lower.

We suspected that one of the coveys we busted lit into a brushy bottom surrounded by plowed fields.  In this bottom, we soon moved a chubby covey. I shot at one bird, it dropped. I shot at another bird on my side and it also dropped. Shawn then yelled, “I just shot a double!” I quickly realized that he and I had shot simultaneously at the same birds. I let the birthday boy claim them, but told him I had shot too.  While pocketing the birds, Shawn smiled and said, “I’m not going to let the truth get in the way of a good story!” I guess I’ll never know if I shot a true double on Huns that day.  Just my luck!

Shawn’s double? . . . Haha!

We had no more opportunities in the brushy bottom so we headed back to the grassy strip along the road. As we followed Misty down through the cover, she pointed into a tall stand of sagebrush. A Hun flushed and I missed it. Misty then took a few steps forward and struck another staunch point.

“Misty is on point!” I announced.

I then walked into the sage stand and the bird flushed hard cutting in front of Shawn and Ross. Ross easily dropped it as it blazed past him.

This is the Hun Ross took over Misty’s beautiful point.

“I’m so glad that I was able to take that bird off of Misty’s point!” exclaimed Ross.

“Me too, Ross. Good shot!”

As we proceeded down towards the end of the grassy strip, I stepped in a rabbit hole, fell, and dinged Shawn’s Ruger Red Label 28 gage on a rock. Feeling terrible, I apologized profusely to Shawn and he was very gracious about it.

When we got to the bottom of the strip, Misty got really birdy again in thick and tall stand of sage. A huge covey got up and I dropped one with the top barrel and went for the double with the bottom, but whiffed. There went my chance for an uncontested double on Huns!Misty located the Hun in the tall sage near the farmer’s road and retrieved it to me.

“The bad news is I dinged your gun,” I said to Shawn, “but the good news is that it still shoots nicely.” Shawn and Ross both laughed.

Even a duffer gets one every once in awhile.

Not long after that, Shawn and I said our goodbyes to Ross. Even though we had only hunted with him for one day, we both felt as if we had already  been long-time friends. Ross was a total stud and a good hunter to boot and he is welcome in our hunting camp anytime.  Besides, someone needs to shoot the birds Misty points!

A few weeks ago, I received an amazing gift from Ross as a thank you for taking him hunting. It’s a print of an original painting entitled, “Sagebrush Huns,” featuring a Brittany pointing in tall sage brush and three Huns flushing. The moment I saw the painting, I exclaimed, “That’s Misty!”

Sagebrush Huns by Ross B. Young.

At the bottom of the print, Ross inscribed, “ANDREW–WHAT A GREAT FIRST HUNT WITH YOU. DROPPING THAT HUN FOR MISTY INSPIRED THIS PAINTING. ROSS B. YOUNG.”

I can’t begin to describe how much this means to me.  Thank you, Ross!

I look forward to more hunts with Ross. I’m predicting we are in for more cold rootbeers, excellent dog work, a few respectable shots, and even more good laughs.

Ross’s first sharptail and ice cold rootbeer to celebrate . . . can’t beat that!

Be sure and check out Ross’s artwork on his website where you can find excellent original paintings and reasonably priced prints. Here is the link: www.rossyoung.com.

October upland skies are good for the soul. Ross and Shawn search for Huns along the grassy strip.

 

The Joy of Cover Dogs by Tom Keer

Excellently article today in Sporting Classics Daily by my friend and cover dog enthusiast Tom Keer.

Ron Boehme’s The Hunting Dog Podcast

I was recently interviewed for Ron’s hunting dog podcast…if you haven’t heard any of these, I strongly recommend them!  Below is a link to my recent podcast interview.

birddogdoc’s Podcast Interview

Finale…The Land Of Enchantment

  

The final trip of the year I found myself in the land of the enchantment with Matt Lucia and Dave Kruger chasing scaled quail on some of the most gorgeous short grass prairie I’ve strolled upon chasing bird dogs.    

  Matt and I met Dave in southern New Mexico to finish the hunting season out on my favorite game bird.  We walked miles behind the bird dogs and moved several nice coveys a day including a covey of about 20 bobwhites…not seen very often from my understanding.   One day we compared miles walked and my iWatch showed I’d walked 16 plus miles and then Dave Kruger put it into perspective when he showed us his GPS totaling 20 plus miles covered that day…we coined Dave the Mescalero Runner or affectionately the Mescalero Kid.   We ate authentic Mexican food at one of the best places I’ve ever eaten…can’t wait to head back there next year. The only disappointment Matt and I had during our trip was not being abducted by any aliens…there’s always next year!

Here are some photos from the grand finale! Enjoy…until next bird season! Setter Feathers

ANDY’S NEW BLOG TENKARA WANDERINGS

I’ve decided to take on a new project.  Not because I need another one-mind you-but rather because I’ve grown fond of tenkara fishing.  My new blog is Tenkara Wandering and I put up the first post New Frontiers yesterday.

Of course, I still plan to write regularly for Upland Ways about bird hunting and traditional western fly fishing, but I plan to write about tenkara primarily on the new blog.  I’m not quite sure where this new venture will take me, but I’m excited to find out.   I hope you all will come along for the journey.

Birds and Dogs and Good Country

 

What a bird season we experienced here in Colorado and surrounding states…been a long time coming with 10 years of thirst throughout our bird country.  The final weekend in Kansas was surreal.  A quick recap of last weekend…it was kicked off with a speeding ticket in the thriving metropolis of Springfield, Colorado for going 44 in a 30 mph…which caused my wife and everyone that knows me to snicker because I am typically under the speed limit.  The sheriff was very kind and after scribbling and dishing the ticket out, he told me where the birds were the thickest on the Government’s land…best $145 spent this season.  We moved 40 coveys in 3 full days of hunting.  The snakes were even out as the temps teetered in the high 70’s.  My rescue setter Dannyboy pointed several coveys, retrieved and recovered lost birds.  Danny’s-lights shown this past weekend.  Danny is a bird dog!

To paraphrase Babcock…When you have good bird dogs and good birds in good country who needs to go off chasing elephants?  Not me!   This was the year of the quail comeback in my coverts.  Here’s to the perfect weather conditions and birds for the years to come!

Setter Feathers…