I'll apologize in advance for the length and this not being a saltwater post, but I figured some of you guys might enjoy it.
Saturday was the second annual Holy Carp! fly fishing tournament in Houston. As the name implies, it is in fact a tournament in which the main target is the pretentious and dastardly carp species lurking in H-Tine's various urban tailwaters. Fly fishermen (and women) showed up from all over Houston, the hill country and DFW to dodge trash, vagrants and toxic waters and test their mettle against the sewage fueled bayou brutes. $25 got you a ticket to the Thunderdome, a t-shirt, and beer at weigh-in. I had some free time and some cash to spare, plus I'm up to date on my tetanus shots so I figured why not?
My game plan was simple; stay away from the main bayous where I figured most competitors would fish and find a spot off the beaten path. The morning before the tournament, I took a walk down by a local flood containment canal before work. Not too long into my walk, I found a pristine mud flat covered with tailing fish. It was still early so it was tough to see but from what I could tell, this flat was covered in big common carp. For those not in the know with carp, of the carp species, common carp are generally the easiest to catch (easy being used in the relative sense) so to say the least, I was excited.
Fast forward to the morning of the tournament. After a strong cup of french pressed coffee, a couple of kolaches (koblasnek for the Czechs who will get offended) and a good pre-game dump, I headed off to my spot. Just like the day before, I found my mud flat with big broad tails breaking the surface of the pristine flood waters, waiving with the grace of a Michelangelo brush stroke painting a picture of excitement in my soul. Stealthily, I crouched down and casted my 5wt landing the fly just in front of a cruising fish. He ignores it, but doesn't spook. As he moves past my fly I pick it up and re-cast. Once again, he ignores it. Now this is a fairly common occurrence when common carp fishing (<---see what I did there) so I repeat. This time I make a bad cast and the fly lands right on the fishes head. Normally, this would spook a common carp, but this fish carries on as if nothing happened. This is quite peculiar, but I endeavor to persevere. This scenario plays itself out on numerous fish throughout the morning. It's was the first time I literally tied on every fly pattern in my box to try and find something they'd eat and nothing. The wheels start turning in my head and as the sun peaks through the cloud cover I'm able to get a really good look at the fish and my fears were confirmed. Son of a buffalo these aren't common carp, they're small mouth buffalo! Up to this point in my fishing career, I'd never come across a smallmouth buffalo. It was just a mythical fly snubbing creature that's rumored to turn their nose up at flies faster than a Hells Bay owner at a busy boat ramp (no offense Rick). So to say that I was dejected is an understatement. To throw some salt on the wound, at this point I had buried a hook in my finger when I was walking and stepped on my leader whilst holding my fly. It was also hotter than two rats screwing in a wool sock in August and the sole fell off my left hiking boot. It wasn't even lunch time and I wanted to throw in the towel, go home and drown my defeat with
Popa Dobles. I was at a real crossroads. Take the easy aforementioned route and get day drunk or pull myself up by the boot straps (those were still intact) and show these bayou snobs that my father only raises men. As tempting as option 1 was, I was already in the proverbial shizzz and I was pretty angry at these fish so I decided to stick it out. To hell if I didn't make it to weigh-in, this was between me and the buff. Right about the time of this decision, dark clouds roll in and a cooling rejuvenating rain began to fall.
With new motivation I went back to square one. I tied on my favorite carp fly and decided maybe it's not the fly, but the presentation. For the next half hour or so I tried new things, I got weird and most importantly I got a freaking eat! Sorry for the blurry pic, I haven't found a good setting for my early 2000s point and shoot on a timer. Not sorry for the gratuitous man thigh.
23 3/4" of stanky glory
With my new found knowledge, I continue on and follow it up with another 25 1/2" fish
If it happens once, chalk it up to luck but since it happened twice I'm thinking "Hallelujah! I've cracked the buffalo cipher!" but more than likely I think the little 10 minute sprinkling of rain just turned them on. Either way I followed that fish up with a 23 1/4" fish
Then his twin 23 1/4" brother. Although looking back at this pic now I kind of mashed his sucker up against the check it stick. I might have been able to get another 1/2 inch or so out of him.
I hooked another fish right next to a bridge piling that promptly wrapped me around said bridge piling and broke me off and also missed a few other fish along the way. At any rate, I landed my last fish around 14:40 and as much as I hate to admit it, my forearm started cramping up bad. I had pounded all of my water by around 11:00 and I knew I was suffering some effect of the dehydration. So using my best judgement and the fact that I didn't want to beg some joggers and bikers for water I decided to throw in the towel and call it a day. I was sitting at just under 100" total and the previous year's winner took it with around 70" so I figured I was in good shape. After a thorough hand washing at a gas station, a couple gatorades and a whataburger (eaten only touching the wrapper) I headed to weigh-in. I ended up with a 95.25" total and was sitting pretty but the last guy to weigh-in was a guide out of the hill country and he took the cake with a total of 121.5". I probably could've fished for another hour and a half and still made weigh-in and part of me wishes I would've, but I was more than happy to take 2nd. Heck I was just glad to have gotten the best of the buff that day, tournament aside.
Overall, it was a great tournament. Danny Scarborough (
Houston Fly Fishing) did a great job of organizing the the event and sponsors and Bayou City Angler was more than generous to host the event. I've fished quite a few tournaments in my day and I'd rank this one as probably the best value out of all of them. The prizes from the sponsors were crazy for such a cheap entry fee. On top of that I got to meet some really rad peeps at the weigh-in and awards. I'd highly recommend it to anyone who fly fishes and isn't against having fun.
As an aside, I know there's a lot of hype about Gordy and Sons opening and I know they're going to be an awesome shop, but please continue to support Bayou City Angler. They're the only fly fishing specific shop in Houston and Stacy does so much to support the local fly fishing community.
TL;DR Slayed buffs, got second place.
