rollin

White Lightning rides!

arrived in Brooklyn last night, right to the sports bar for the C's game. friendly, familiar faces awaited me there. Boone had been having reunions while we were in the South, so now it's my turn. now that i'm in the northeast, there should be a fair number of them in the days to come.

been doing some fishing lately. with a lot of driving in between. 4 hours here, 6 here, 5 here, 8 there, and a solid 12 yesterday.
here are a couple fish. one lives in fresh, one lives in the salt.
in the city for one more night then rollin north and west to the fine town of Pulaski. going to be a real good reunion up there. more to come on that.

i hope everyone's well. boston sunday, portland monday. see ya there.

i guess it was time for a new pair

th'east

after leaving austin, i found myself in a traffic jam outside of Shreveport, the first i'd seen since i drove out west, i guess. this turned out to be a pretty bad one and i found myself sitting on i-20 east for three and a half hours. i got out of my car and walked up and down the highway for a little bit, trying to assess the scene. i gathered a little information about the jam and as i walked back toward my car, several people asked me if i knew anything about what was going on. i passed on what i had learned and heard a number of mixed responses and phrases, not many of which i had heard before. one trucker, as i walked by said, "i'd be walkin' home too!" i said that i would then be walking to Maine and he laughed loudly. at a gas station in Jackson, i came back to my car after paying for the gas and a man was staring at the back of my car, presumably looking at the license plate the bumper stickers. "what d'ya think?" i asked. he chuckled and asked me what i was doing down there and then asked how any miles i had on the Subaru. when i told him, he smiled and said, "i hope my wife's gets that many!" ha.

made it to Atlanta on tuesday and made some new friends. made it to Anderson, SC on wednesday and was welcomed by the best homecooked meal i've had in a while. yesterday Boone and i drove to Cashiers, NC and we've been fishing since.

yesterday was my first day on the water in a little over a week. i was excited and confident. we stepped into the Tuck River with hopes and spirits high. water was low and Boone landed a chub within minutes after arrival. i did the same a few minutes later and we continued upstream. Boone picked up a few here and there and i was still yet to land a trout. i lost one, spooked some others as we continued upstream. we decided to change spots after a couple hours and drove upstream. Boone landed a three pound rainbow after a few minutes and we were happy. a little while later and i was frustrated. i smelled of skunk and it had been a long time since i smelled that bad of it.

i was fishing a run that i just felt there were fish in. if there wasn't a fish in this run, then i wouldn't have known where else to look. and then, finally, the indicator went down and i set the hook on a fish i instantly knew was big. big head shakes came and it went across the stream in front of me, 15 feet to the right and then 30 feet to the left. and then it was over. hook popped out. i crouched in the river, my hands scratching my head. i'm assuming some expletive(s) exited my mouth. that was the last fish i hooked that day and i got skunked. ooooh, did it hurt. it's been a while since i wanted a fish back so badly. how big was it? who knows. big. big enough to not want to lose. add that to the stench of a skunk that had been brewing since spring and there you have it.

today i did some catching. caught some trout! nice ones! so did Boone. maybe we'll catch some more tomorrow! what's next? redfish, albies, steelhead and landlockeds! see ya there!

ACL

seven of us left the ranch around 6 p.m. on wednesday, texas bound. through the great list of craig, we had secured tickets to the austin city limits music festival as well as an apartment on austin's 6th street. here. we. go.

a caravan of 4 cars, White Lightning, Southern Justice, The Little Green Shitbox and another, explicitly named vehicle, cruised south and east out of Colorado, through northeastern tip of New Mexico and into Texas. texas is big. our plan was to drive through the night, as google listed our journey around 16 hours. energy drinks and stops later, we all crashed in the parking lot of a mcdonald's somewhere in west texas. the 16 hour drive ended after 21 hours of travel, but we had made it to austin safe and sound.
zilker park, where the festival is, was a 20 minute walk from our apartment. for the next 3 days we spent midday to 10 p.m. at the park, watching music. awesome music.
here's the full lineup: http://2010.aclfestival.com/

the black keys killed:
this guy was this guy:

So long and thanks for all the fish

well. been a while since i wrote and now i am about to say goodbye to the 4UR. maybe more like a 'see you later' i guess.

the end of the season was very busy. we had a group of 14 anglers in who all fished with guides all day. great group of fellers. fishing was pretty good then. ended that group with a bang, putting about a dozen in the net for one guy in the afternoon of the last day.

then we had a wedding here. the ranch was full for the first time since labor day. and in the wedding party we found the group of anglers we'd been looking for all season. a group of 10 Cornell grads fished real hard. awesome guys, very good anglers. and the fishing was nuts. they were ecstatic just to be here and their enthusiasm was rewarded by the mighty Goose Creek with 4 days of epic fishing. my very last guided trip of the summer was the best. hit the water very early with three guys, marko, jeff and matt, before the sun had hit the water. between the three of them i netted close to 15 before 11:30. after a pow-wow, we elected to hit the big river and marko and matt and i drove fast to the Rio. in 45 minutes on the Rio, i netted 13 more. ended that with a double hookup. awesome. high fives. just awesome. i love fishing. not just the very act of it, but the idea, the concept, the thing. everything about it.

Boone and i hit the creek yesterday. in two hours we landed close to thirty. so, thanks Goose Creek, thanks Rio Grande, thanks Walton Pond, Pumphouse Pond, Walton Creek, Soda Creek Pond, thanks for all the fish. so long, and thanks for all the fish. bonus points for anyone who can identify the book/movie that that song comes from.

so what next? after thinking long and hard about it, i think, that i, jesse lance robbins, will go fishing. stay tuned for the next leg, as we Seek the Freed.

things, that have happened and, otherwise

well, i have been guiding a lot. the fishing has gotten tougher, fish pickier, water lower and clearer. but we're still catching fish. our big hatches have been gone for a while, the only dry flies that fish will come up to with some sort of consistency are hopper patterns. which is fun. the fish are slowly transitioning to eating midges (very small flies). these are a pain to tie on, and easily tangled by beginners. seen quite a few rookies lately which can be frustrating, but also pretty sweet when you can net a nice fish for them.
a while back, i had some guests. this was fun. my top bunk was occupied by a familiar (and bearded) roommate's face. that was nice. Liz and Ben came down from denver and Matty G cruised through on his own american road trip. we hiked, we fished, we swam, we laughed, we did.

i saw a bull moose:
i had the idea to take pictures of holes in each of our 15 stations on goose creek. here is a real sweet hole on station 14. that rock wall goes up probably 30 feet. i think the deepest part of this pool is 5 or 6 feet. sizely (is that a word?) wild rainbows hang out in this pool:
here is a sweet run on 13. the creek splits about 300 yards above this and then comes back together to make this run. mostly browns in this stretch, but there are a few bows in there too. two weeks ago i had a client hook two browns on one cast in this hole:
i gave Boone another good NJ on the Rio:
i went to a wedding!
Mr. and Mrs. Mueller:
there were a few Batesies there:
and a little dancing:
it occurred to me that i haven't put up many/any pictures of the ranch compound itself. my humble abode, Creekside:
my private porch, window and entrance:
things otherwise include deciding where to go and what to do when the 4UR closes down for the season on october 5th. other things otherwise include going to work now.

i hope everyone is well!

The Mighty Lake Carp

The excitement an angler can get when approaching a foreign water is great. A foreign species, the same. Guide's day off is still Saturday and three of us headed into uncharted territory for all of us: sight fishing for lake carp. Our head guide had put the fire in our heads, so we burned rubber east from the ranch, our destination the San Luis Lakes.

We approached the lakes like children on Christmas morn. The information we carried with us was this: go to the north side of the lake, use stoneflies or woolly buggers, find the carp, put it in front of their heads and slowly strip, then when the line goes tight, hold on. Fair enough, here we go...
When we reached the lakes, we continued along a dirt road that looked like it went to the north. It did and we reached a locked gate where we assumed was the best place to get to the north shore. The environs around us were, in a word, weird. We crossed several hundred yards of what I'd describe as desert, to find a 200-plus acre lake that was three feet deep all the way across. The water was a light tan color and when we started wading, we quickly lost sight of our own feet. We then knew that sight fishing would be tough. Across the lake loomed a fourteen thousand foot mountain. Abutting that range are sand dunes! We were seemingly on a different planet.
We laughed hysterically as none of us had any idea what to do. It was as foreign I have possibly ever felt in a body of water. One guy went this way, the other that way and I in between the two. nearly an hour passed before yells came from Drew. I ran down the shoreline to investigate and sure enough he was hooked up. He excitedly detailed to me what had happened. He had spotted three carp and put a fly in front of one and it took. And then he ran. Far away. Into the backing he went.
Fifteen minutes later I netted the beast.
So we were on the board. Confidence soared as Drew and I stalked together. Then I spotted my first carp. They were tough to see in the murky waters, but they were certainly there. I think I spooked/botched my first attempts but continued on, roughly forty feet from the shore. Sure enough I spotted another one. Two casts later I was tight. Into the backing he went. Twice. A good NJ later and I picked up my first carp. What an odd looking thing!
As the day went on, sunlight was sporadic, and we were all at a loss at how to continue. Drew and I had both landed two at this point, but it had been a while before anyone's line was tight. Boone was yet to pick up a rubber lip. We discussed tactics and were seemingly at a disagreement as how to continue. So I started casting. And caught another! Blind fishing it would be. Shortly after, Boone was tight.
And then hoisted up the ugly thing.
So we ended the day with seven in the net. I have more than once discussed the thrills one can find when entering new waters with little information and then having success. I believe there are many things a guide can teach an angler that they might not learn by themselves. Any decent guide knows their water well. Ask Wilkie to talk about the Magalloway or the Dead. Ask the Captain to talk about Cape bass or Canyons yellowfin. Those two know their waters as well as anyone I've met. A good guide is priceless. But every now and then it's good for an angler to step into unknown waters and see what happens. There's carp in them waters!