So last weekend I made it out to Little Papillion Creek (I think that is what it is called) by 132nd-ish and Fort-ish. It was another stunningSunday. (The weather really has been beautiful in Omaha lately.)My plan was to walk the creek upstream in search of rises and possibly catching some fish. I new it would might be a mirky creek, but I read a Papillion Creek Water resources management page that mentioned the potential for fish. I figured it was worth a shot since I haven’t been catching anything at Standing Bear.
I basically walked up the stream for about 2 hours cas
ting a San Juan Worm, hoping it would catch some attention. I didn’t see any top-water action, so I didn’t feel the need to switch to a dry fly. Besides the pretty scenery, and occasional teaser pools, I didn’t see a thing. The water was SO muddy. I stepped in a couple times and immediately slid into 4-6in of silt. Thank you Nebraska farm run-off.
I decided to take a short break and just sit for a while.
I have to admit, I was frustrated with four consecutive outings without single fish. I had one great strike weeks ago at Standing Bear and I pissed that away, no problem. Fishing is a lot better if you are catching fish. And if you aren’t going to catch anything, it is at least nice to have dry feet, which I won’t have until I buy new waders. Since I am, honestly, to cheap to do that any time soon, I will be soggy for years to come.
I am mostly kidding, of course. I love getting out and fishing a stream or lake. It is just wonderful to be outdoors and interact with nature in a unique way. Being that close to the water gives me peace and joy. I will keep going back no matter how few fish I catch. I probably won’t return to Little Papillion Creek anytime soon, but that is only because I didn’t catch fish, not because it wasn’t beautiful.
Fortunately, my frustrated mood didn’t last long. I picked up a four pack of Tallgrass Brewing Co. Buffalo Sweat
and had a wonderful evening. It is a great stout. So refreshing in fact that I found myself craving it after a 6 mile run later in the day.
Now that is a good beer.
So another shot at Standing Bear. Last Sunday morning I went out and it was absolutely gorgeous. Perfect day. Not perfect fishing. No strikes. No rises. Nothing.
I walked east along the north shore of the reservoir. It got really muddy. No wind or current so wasn’t sending clouds of silt all over the place.
On my way out there last time, I noticed a creek (that I have since learned is Papillion Creek) a mile away that looked big enough to fish. My hunch is there isn’t much in there, but who knows? I figure, either tomorrow or Sunday I will go walk it north of the city to see if I can spot some fish and throw them something they like. Worth a shot, right?
This is the worst fly fishing blog out there. Ha. My waders leak and I can’t catch anything.
At least it is supposed to be another beautiful day out there.
Last Sunday the wife and went back to Standing Bear Rec Area. Sara did some reading at a picnic spot and I waded a 100 meter stretch of the north shore. It was about thigh high and not too windy. The clarity was poor, and with the little chop, I couldn’t see any fish action on the water. I was casting a wet fly I tied last week using a size 6 hook, Zeeba Dubbing (hair from our cat’s brush), olive maribou, and some red and yellow neck hackle.
This was also my first attemp wading after sealing up the entire front seams of my waders. ankles to crotch. Result? The sealing cement is great and easy to work with. My waders may be beyond repair. I will try to reinforce the crotch and butt a bit more, but I may just have to settle with leaky waders until I have the means to replace them.
Anyway, with an hour and a half to fish, I worked the shallows and practiced my casting. It was very slow. In the picture below, on the left hand side, you can just see the edge of a downed tree. I worked this area pretty hard and just as my attention was waning, I had a huge swirl at my fly. I was pulling it only a few inches below the water and the fish, not sure if it was a bass or carp, missed showing me a decent 13-15 inch dark colored back. I couldn’t get a profile view or see the tail, so I can’t say for sure what it was. But it had some decent size and surprised the crap out of me.
Another reminder to try and be focused when fishing. Regardless, it was a beautiful Sunday in Nebraska and I learned a lot about that part of the lake. I will be able to walk that pretty easily in the spring and think I should eventually find some luck at Standing Bear.
my waders have been worn well.
not always consistently.
a season skipped.
but worn well.
they are paper thin
with neoprene booties.
i tie on my felt bottom boots.
they say we should move away from those.
we run the risk of transferring aquatic hitchikers.
stepping into the water a trickle of cold begins.
down the back of my calf. each leg.
kissing my kneecaps.
rising slowly to body temperature.
catch my breath when crotch hits waves.
give me a minute.
ready to fish.
later I slosh, slosh, slosh up to my car.
out comes the flood.
music and the road.
that’s a good day.
Went out today for a run at Lake Standing Bear Recreation Area in NW Omaha. It is located at about 132nd and Military Rd. I’ve read a few peoples posts about decent bass fishing there, and apparently it is stocked with trout. I imaging they run a little deeper here, but I could be wrong.
As my wife and I ran around the lake I kept looking at the shoreline to see what I might be working with if I try to wade it. It seems like it has a steep drop off along most of the eastern shore but there are plenty of fingers that may be shallower.
A couple of thoughts run through my mid with regard to what fish to go for.
1. whatever is biting.
2. try for the stocked trout.
3. go for bass.
4. I’m intruiged by the thought of hitting a slob carp.
I think I’ll just pick a day coming up soon and see what happens. The mornings in Omaha are much less windy so I will have to start early. I’m finishing two weeks of night shifts which mean my days are for sleeping. Maybe next weekend.
I also have to face the music and address my leaky waders one of these days. After an hour in waist high water, I am filled to my knees. The problem is, I don’t see any obvious tears. I’ll just have to hit up the seams and knees with Hodgeman repair cement.
I’ll let you know how it turns out.
metallic and sleek
shining antique gold
spotted with cocoa cigarette burns along her back
autumn maple along her side
nipping the the surface
but with tenderness
let her take the fly
with a salute
an homage to her beauty
let her run
partly my inspiration for this page’s new direction.
Check it out.