The Magic Hour
In the Fly Fishing Community, Warm Water angling is sort of like the red headed step child, being looked down on to some extent. But there is a spell cast over many an Old Timer here, who has never seen a Trout Stream in the mountains or cast a fly on the flats to a tarpon.
Last night as I paddled across the flooded Lily Pad covered flats of the lake in my kayak, the afternoon sea breeze began to lay down. I could now much more clearly hear the wild life around me. Bullfrogs croaking, song birds fluttering and chirping in the little isolated cyprus stands. I would occasionally hear of the splash of a Bass in the grass, grabbing a meal. The groans of an alligator here and there.
When the wind had nearly relaxed enough to let the water become glass as the sun had sunk below the trees, a small light yellow object popped up on to the smooth surface of the water around me. A little bit longer and wings present themselves out of the object. Before long they begin to flutter as if trying to lift off. POP. In a swirl and smack the little hatching mayfly is gone.
Within a few minutes I began to hear these pops and smacks all around. Under every tree over hanging the water, Mayflies were suddenly under attack from below. Panfish came out of their daytime hiding places all over the lake and commenced to feast on the fly hatch.
This was my signal. I laid down my 7 weight that I had been using to launch big deer hair bass bugs into the grass mats to pick up my 4 weight. I scurried through putting the rod together and stringing my fly line through the guides. I then opened up a brand new Bea Bea Bug. These are small little critters. Round rubber legs that give it more of a spider look than Mayfly. The body I have been told is made from Tupelo roots harvested when the water is low in the river swamps around Wewahitchka Florida. Each one meticulously dressed with a bit of sparkle and hackle feathers.
With just a few long strips pulling line from my reel, I do a little roll cast and land my bug right under a bit of Spanish Moss hanging from an ancient Cyprus tree. The very instant that my leader straighten and delicately land on the slightly tannic water, it was gone with a smack that was as surprising as a firecracker going off. My line came tight with a hand sized Stump Knocker stretching and straining against my 6lb leader. Heavy I know, but if you cast to squirrels as much as I do, these bugs can get expensive.
When that little slab of a fish finally gave up and comes along side my kayak, it becomes very clear. Now, I may not know the pleasures of babbling brooks and wading flowing streams, I do know the joy of flipping out Bream Bugs to aggressive panfish in the warm water of the Florida Panhandle in the magic hour of dusk.
*Tips: Choose Best Trolling Motor Battery
In the Fly Fishing Community, Warm Water angling is sort of like the red headed step child, being looked down on to some extent. But there is a spell cast over many an Old Timer here, who has never seen a Trout Stream in the mountains or cast a fly on the flats to a tarpon.
Last night as I paddled across the flooded Lily Pad covered flats of the lake in my kayak, the afternoon sea breeze began to lay down. I could now much more clearly hear the wild life around me. Bullfrogs croaking, song birds fluttering and chirping in the little isolated cyprus stands. I would occasionally hear of the splash of a Bass in the grass, grabbing a meal. The groans of an alligator here and there.
When the wind had nearly relaxed enough to let the water become glass as the sun had sunk below the trees, a small light yellow object popped up on to the smooth surface of the water around me. A little bit longer and wings present themselves out of the object. Before long they begin to flutter as if trying to lift off. POP. In a swirl and smack the little hatching mayfly is gone.
Within a few minutes I began to hear these pops and smacks all around. Under every tree over hanging the water, Mayflies were suddenly under attack from below. Panfish came out of their daytime hiding places all over the lake and commenced to feast on the fly hatch.
This was my signal. I laid down my 7 weight that I had been using to launch big deer hair bass bugs into the grass mats to pick up my 4 weight. I scurried through putting the rod together and stringing my fly line through the guides. I then opened up a brand new Bea Bea Bug. These are small little critters. Round rubber legs that give it more of a spider look than Mayfly. The body I have been told is made from Tupelo roots harvested when the water is low in the river swamps around Wewahitchka Florida. Each one meticulously dressed with a bit of sparkle and hackle feathers.
With just a few long strips pulling line from my reel, I do a little roll cast and land my bug right under a bit of Spanish Moss hanging from an ancient Cyprus tree. The very instant that my leader straighten and delicately land on the slightly tannic water, it was gone with a smack that was as surprising as a firecracker going off. My line came tight with a hand sized Stump Knocker stretching and straining against my 6lb leader. Heavy I know, but if you cast to squirrels as much as I do, these bugs can get expensive.
When that little slab of a fish finally gave up and comes along side my kayak, it becomes very clear. Now, I may not know the pleasures of babbling brooks and wading flowing streams, I do know the joy of flipping out Bream Bugs to aggressive panfish in the warm water of the Florida Panhandle in the magic hour of dusk.
*Tips: Choose Best Trolling Motor Battery