Hi Jim Cannon and Minolta make a reasonably priced under water camera. I think they are a better solution to the disposable cameras because it doesn't end up in a land fill. Mel Hocken
"Jimmy D. Moore" wrote: > Hi Gang! > > Just being able to go fishing last week meant a lot to me since I've > been unable to wade since breaking my right leg on the Gunnison in May > and then two weeks out of the cast, tearing my posterior tibial tendon > and spending the entire summer as a "cripple". I can tie only so many > flies and read so many fishing magazines and books before I get > completely disgusted and wonder, "Why me Lord?" and start feeling sorry > for myself. Oh well, I sometimes have to learn the hard way and the > broken leg and torn tendon were definitely the hard way. > > Day 1 - Wed. Sept. 4. Left the cabin at 8 a.m. New Mexico trout don't > get up early, which is fine with me. I might have caught more bass over > the years if I'd been an early riser. Guess I'm what you call a > nocturnalist. Love to "moonlight bass fish". We arrived at the upper > end of Philmont Scout Ranch, near Ute Park around 9 a.m. to fish the > Cimarron which was flowing at 40 cfs which is the optimum flow for > trout. Even with the drought, the Watermaster was still releasing water > from Eagle Nest Lake, which feeds the Cimarron. > > The Cimarron is probably one of the best kept secrets in New Mexico, > because it doesn't get the pressure of the nearby famous Rio Grande and > San Juan. Those are the rivers you'll see advertised in the FF mags, > while the Cimarron is never mentioned. However, fisheries biologists > put the count of browns at 5,000 per mile. I don't know about you, but > that sounds like a helluva lot of fish to be spread over a mile of a > stream that's rarely more than fifteen feet wide and 2-3 feet deep. > > I spent about twenty minutes just walking trail alongside the river, > looking for hatches. We'd run into a big "something or other" hatch on > Highway 64 just east of where we were to fish. Had to stop and clean the > windshield off. Boy, it took GUTS for those bugs to fly into our > windshield like that! However, the only hatch I saw near the river was > a cloud of "No-See-Ums", GaNats, to some of you. No problem though, > I've fished the Cimarron a bunch over the years, so I know those browns > pretty well. They don't take many dry flies! > > The first arrangement of flies I used was an Elk Hair > Caddis,(indicator), with a Copper John dropper, one of several sent to > me by Byard, in addition to the bunch of flies I ordered a couple of > weeks ago for my trip. Byard is one of the most helpful guys I've had > the pleasure of knowing, and he also has some danged good stuff in his > Linesend Shop and I find it hard to beat the prices. > > When I saw that no really good hatch was going on, I decided that I'd > better get down into the stream and get to it. Remember now, my ankle > was still very tender and I was wearing my ankle brace inside my > high-top wading boots and using my home-made wading staff. (Thank God > for it.) As I gingerly stepped into the water while supporting the > weight on my right leg with the staff, I felt it snap! Not my leg, the > staff. Yep, and I fell headlong into the cold water. So much for > home-made wading staffs. All was not lost though, cause I got a clean > break about six inches up from the tip of the staff and it was now very > stiff. It was too limber anyway and the shaft was now about six inches > up from "walking cane" height, which was probably better anyway. > > I was wading wet, in nylon Columbia fishing shorts and shirt, so it > didn't take but a few minutes for me to dry out. In fact, after all the > Texas heat this summer, it felt damned good to lie down in the Cimarron. > Anyway, I'd already told you guys on the list that the first thing I > was going to do when I got our there was jump in the Cimarron, sit down > and enjoy the cold water. So, I'm a man true to my word, even though I > was kidding. The cold water was good for my ankle too. > > The worst thing about busting my ass in the Cimarron was that one of my > Plano fly boxes fell out of my vest and one side of it opened, spilling > out about a hundred flies that weren't fastened. Bad scene. I > completely lost my religion and started cussing a blue streak. However, > I really lucked out since there was a small lay-down in the path of my > flies that were being swept away. It had some leaves piled against it, > so guess what? I didn't lose a single fly. They all washed up against > the leaves and all I had to do was scoop them up and put them back into > the box, albeit a little damp. Need to check the hooks. Hope they > didn't rust. > > After what seemed like an hour, I was ready to wade and fish. I say > wade, because it was pretty overcast and I wasn't too worried about the > browns seeing me. You can forget wading the Cimarron on a "blue bird" > day though, when "stealth fishing" is the name of the game. When it's > like that, most of my casting is done from behind a bush or crouching > low in the vegetation along the bank, crossing the stream only when I must. > > First cast. BAM! A fine little brown of ten inches. Not a lot of fish, > but a good little fighter. The current made him feel much larger. > Releasing him, I threw upstream from a bush hanging out over a little > bend in the river and let the Copper John settle while the Elk Hair > skittered along in the current. Just as the Elk Hair was swept under > the bush, my line sang and darted toward the undercut bank to my right. > This ain't no nine incher, I told myself. Then he stopped. My line > went slack. > > "Damn", I yelled as I began reeling in my line. After maybe four or > five turns, the lightening bolt brown darted out from under the bank and > took off down stream, leaving me totally unprepared for a run like that. > My reel sang, and sang and sang. Just as my spool spindle was > beginning to appear under the backing, the big bruiser stopped again, > giving me the chance to regain some line and hopefully bring him in. > When he finally came near enough for me to cradle him, I just realized > that I'd caught the biggest brown of my life. Eighteen inches! Not very > large to you trout fishers out in Montana, Idaho, Wyoming, etc., but one > helluva giant to an old Texas boy like me! > > And, no DonO, I didn't have my camera! I've ruined three in the last > three years by falling and getting them wet. Jody has already killed me > a couple of times for blowing $300 for a camera, only to ruin it. So, > there is no photo. You'll just have to take my word for it! Oh Yea! I > fished my 5 1/2 foot custom made, (by me) 3 wt bamboo fly rod the entire > time I was in NM. . . . . .Stay tuned for Part II - "Hell, I Did It Again". > > -- > Jimmy D. Moore, "BIGTROUTMAN" I FISH BECAUSE I MUST! > More importantly, I fish because my Dad taught me! > Author,Outdoor Writer,TOWA, TF&G,VP-GRTU > Owner/Webmaster - Worldwide Flyfishing Info. > http://www.BIGTROUTMAN.homestead.com/MainPage.html > >
