THE FOAM IS HOME

Trout Fishermen and indeed Fly Fishers in my region have many options as to where their quarry should be pursued. Many of our local lakes and streams produce wonderful Trout and great opportunity for sport.

I had heard of one particular area not very far from my home that Internet Fly Fishers were whispering about. The Neversink Gorge Unique Area is a six mile stretch (5000 acre) of my home water that snakes through what was until recently, not only wild and lonesome country but Private Property. New York State's acquisition of lands accessing this unspoiled region was only arranged and finalized within the last ten years so the area is by my standards at least, relatively untouched.
The topography of the area is what one would reasonably expect when you think of a "gorge", steep-rocky and unfriendly to the ankles not to mention parking access is two plus miles from this coveted river frontage.

Rumours abound of pocket water and deep pools where big Browns just wait for your nymph to bump by. Some have reported on Eastern Fly Fishing sites that a healthy population of Brook Trout inhabit these waters as well as some of the tributaries that feed it. With mild weather forecast for the next few days and an incurable curiosity, I did what I always do..........I took a walk.

Russell was as usual, accommodating when I asked if he'd like to "take a walk". The idea of marching on new ground is always enticing. With just a few items for safety and little else we set out for the gorge.

The trail in started as a delightful walk of various widths and winds.

Trails..............


All leading down.......

and down some more.........


The lands here are apparently full of Woodpeckers and Coyote and Bears........Oh my.

Sign and scat abound.

Just when the landscape started looking common and predictable we found an uncommon structure. A Wikiup frame sat off the trail in the side of a hill. The frame needed covering and additional support but when finished would have provided shelter to four people. Over sized for my needs but an ambitious project worthy of our time to explore.

Evidently I was not the only one getting tired. This old boy was just nodding off when I walked by.

We had a good idea where the river ways, we just had different good ideas.

At last the distant sound of hissing thunder told us we were close. As we slugged over a soft watery bench in the topography, we could see the Neversink below. The foam lines shining in contrast to the dimly lit shadows of the gorge. If pocket water is the prise I was after, I got the brass ring. This place was just run after run of pockets and holes, the white water and bubbles pumping life into the oxygen rich water. The place smelled of Trout and the promise of fine fishing, great photo ops and many lost flies.

Giving scale to the depth of this gorge, Russell's orange hat can just be made out on the far right bank in the shadows. Steep sided and boulder strewn, this is no place to be after dark or if injured. It's one hell of a climb out. I tested SPOT's reception out of the gorge and was pleased to find it could get out.

The Neversink Gorge turned out to be a trip I'd look forward to doing again and again, if not for Trout then for the beauty of the area. Wild and little touched by outsiders, this "unique" area holds promise for adventure and inspiration.

We booked out before sundown and looked over my maps and GPS way points, discussed the walk and alternative approaches.
A full day, exploring/charting and

hiking on new terrain. Good friends....

What else can you ask for?

Sam just has to see this.

Rope Work

An unnamed friend (very mysterious) was asking about working with rope. As usual, we decided to take a walk.

My childhood friend Russell had the day off so we grabbed some simple gear and headed off to jump off something. All the regular walls were unavailable or inaccessible so we opted for some boulder bounding at Rancho De Cerrajeria, an unnamed piece of private property where boys will be boys.

A tiny but beautiful waterfall was our back drop.

I thought the rope lesson went very well indeed, the icy rocks made for some interesting hops but we had a nice afternoon and enjoyed the day and the company.

Russ takes a jump

We love this time of the year, the cold air just smells better and the adrenaline running high helps keep you warm. The beauty of this area gives me pause. This is valuable time spent with friends.

The screwball finds a screw tree to sit in................figures!

What was unusual was the lack of photographs of

me,

hhmmm The camera man is never in the shot! I made one or two nice bounces, but you'll just have to take my word for it.

Al makes it up to the top

Not everyone gets two Fathers, I came as close as a guy can get to that.




Russell and myself embarked on a winter adventure into the high peaks region of the Catskills both to spend valuable time together and to fulfill a promise.


Russ's Father was the kind of man other guys just gravitate to. A real man's man and with no wonder. He was giving, kind and well just plain "fatherly" everyone that knew him loved him and I was no exception. Survivor of WWII, he walked with a limp but never let that keep him from the things he loved. Al was an outdoors man, he hunted, fished year round and loved a game of golf whenever he could, that is until two open heart surgeries stopped the hunting. But ever the fisherman, he did what he could. His Boys were his best friends and if they had anything in common it was the outdoors. I think Al's sport of choice was Ice fishing. It was a ritual that he looked forward to each winter.

Russ and I would make our trips to Mt Slide in the Catskills each fall/winter and bring back photos and stories of the beauty to be found just a few miles up state. We often spoke of getting him to the top for a glimpse of this wild and wonderful area and he said more then once that he would love to see it. Al's health made such trips impossible but Russ and I planned to wheel him up on a modified game cart if it became necessary. Time passed and the trip never happened Al's health failed over time and finally won the fight and we lost him to what we hope will be a better life, full of large pickerel and a never ending cup of hot coffee.

Heaven is different to all of us.

Al's last days on this world were full of the sites and sounds of his loving family. This was one man that knew and felt comforted by those closest to him. To pass with that knowledge is a gift. Of course his gift to us was the man himself. Speaking for myself, I am a better man having had him in my life. I felt proudest when he was proud of me and I felt lowest when I let him down, I'm sorry to say I did let him down. But I always felt like one of the family, loved and guided, mentored and scolded. He was a Father to us all in the fullest definition of the word. My children even looked on him as Grandfather. That pleased us both.

After his passing Russell came to me with his plan to "get Al to the Catskills". Our lives were as most people's, hectic and hard to get synchronized for a trip to the high peaks but after a bit of planning and a work schedule that finally made it possible Al would make it to the Mountains.

This trip was our winter day's adventure,

The day started with a cool crisp sunrise and a blue sky that was streaked with long white clouds. I picked up Russ and we headed North. I can't begin to describe the conversations he and I have, we share a strange humor and being alone with no one to sneer and raise their eyebrow at us is very liberating. When you get a couple of guys together that know each other this well and for this long, there's more inside joking then the average person would put up with. You know, real quality time. We talked about family, work, the weather, our route on this trip and anything and everything. Not Al. That topic would come up all in it's own time.








The ledges looking over these mountains are a ring side seat on the most awe inspiring views of the Hudson valley. The lack of leaves gives the impression that things are closer then they appear, truth is the mountains have tall wide shoulders that stretch for miles. Al would have loved them.


















It was a quick but heart felt ceremony, if you want to call it that. A moment to remember our Father and a knowing look at each other. a beer shared by brothers and a smile at the wind as a pinch of Al's ashes drifted across the hill tops.














As you can see by the snow accumulating on my hat, the weather hit us full force and the snow obscured the distant mountains. Russ pulled pairs of ice creepers from his pack to assist with our descent, ironical they were Al's from his days of ice fishing. We retreated down the ridge taking our time over the thick snow covered ice. Russ took his turn hitting the ground after a slip but only hurt his pride. The 4x4 had thermoses of hot coffee and sandwiches and we rested our bones and laughed as we braved the unsanded back roads of Frost valley. Tired and sore I dropped Russ at home and started for my own house to lick my wounds and upload these words.
Thanks for sharing them with us.

I miss Al and expect I always will, with the fondest of memories and the deepest regard for all he was and still is to me and mine. I love you, thanks for sharing yourself with us so freely.

Ray

Gear and other Junk

I was gonna bring that too......



Man I love to fish, camp and hike. Like most of my outdoor endeavors, the preparation is a very big part of the process. I love the planning, sorting, finding, cleaning, oiling and over all prepping for the adventure. I'll scout the area to be used via aerial photographs and Topo maps before walking in to peek about a bit. based on my findings, I start my planning.

Gear is very important to the outdoors person. The right stuff makes your trip a joy, full of good times and memories. The wrong gear makes for a rather disappointing if not dangerous venture.

Charles Cataldo my friend and mentor stressed the six "P" rule. PROPER PLANNING PREVENTS PISS POOR PERFORMANCE. One only need spend a wet night in the Hudson Gorge or a frigid weekend on the slopes of Mt. Washington to realize that this is a mind set not a suggestion. The six "P" rule should be your mantra whenever you plan an outing no mater how short or slight you intend on making it.

I use to teach a packing priority exorcise I called POCKET, PACK and PAW. This simple allocation and distribution method is used by all seasoned outdoors persons, they just might not know they are doing it. For those that are not a custom to this mindset I will explain.



Ask any woman that carries a handbag to explain how she organizes it and after much arguing they will usually turn out the bag and describe in the most interesting and sometimes scary detail just what they carry and why but more importantly WHERE. Things in this strange sack of chaos are in order. Oh I'm not suggesting for a second that I as a mortal man understand the order, I can't even see symmetry after its explained to me, but its there...for her that is.

We know what works for us. We know how to prioritize and tweak, making adjustments based on perceived needs. We do it all the time. Look into your medicine cabinet, sock draw, spare bedroom closet or vehicle's trunk. There is a plan there.

When you plan and pack to carry what will become your only means of self support and dare I say luxury, you use the Pocket Pack and Paw rule.

Any item that you would use allot such as a hiking staff, fishing rod, camera or hunting rifle will invariably be carried in your hand (Paw) even things carried on the shoulder such as canteens are Paw items. Then we break down the remaining items into what you will always need to keep with you and never want to separate yourself from (Pocket) such as cell phone, whistle, fire tool, compass, Light, handgun, pocket knife. We might lose the pack with all the other support it carries but can still manage to navigate or protect yourself and survive. Things hung around the neck are usually very safe if tucked into the shirt. Fire tools and compasses are best carried here. Items worn in the center of your belt between the kidneys can be reached with either hand, a great place to have your folding knife ride. Items worn are Pocket items.

The (Pack) breaks down further into its own sub categories, outer compartments, top cover storage area and the main body of the pack or even the deep internal areas of some packs where sleeping gear is protected. There is opportunity for a plan.

I always pack my packs basically the same way. No matter if it be a day pack or expedition size monster, certain items will always be found in the same places. I don't need to wonder where I put the first aid kit, its always in the same spot. It may be a scaled down (or up) version of the one in one of my other packs buts its always in the same spot as is the toilet paper and trail mix. If I need it in the dark or have to explain to someone else where to find it, its never a hunt.

If trekking with others I always cross check equipment with my companions to ensure we are not redundant to the extreme, redundancies are sometimes a good idea with certain items.

Note: All members of the trip should have redundant Pocket items......to each his own!

To Summon The Fire

BRING ON THE SPARKS The act of "making" fire is both monotonous and magical all at the same time. It has a primeval effect on man and as I mentioned before in another part of the COSS blog we can thank fire for our ability to produce electricity or even split the atom. but enough of the "ain't that cool" stuff, lets work with our fire tools. The most common is of course the match. If you are in a wilderness survival situation and only have paper matches to rely on...its been nice. Pray for lightning or a volcano or something equally as reliable. The wood match is to the paper match what a down bag is to a space blanket, they will both do the job but man what a difference. Wood matches are better but still not the answer. Lighters are okay but remember they use Butane and that particular gas hates the cold and altitude. They also can't be counted on once wet. The Zippo type lighter uses far too much fuel, drys out quickly and is also susceptible to the whims of Mother Nature. In short, forget the lighters.
Okay then, whats next? I always smile knowingly whenever I hear someone use the words "Flint and Steel". Very few outdoors men (and women) today could really use a steel kit and few understand what they are talking about when they refer to it. To the common wilderness traveler, a Flint and Steel is a pocket sized bar of magnesium and a sparking insert. WRONG! That is called.......well its a Magnesium bar with Sparking insert. Also called a Doan Magnesium and Steel (wrong again)
A true Flint and Steel set consists of a high Carbon Steel striker of some kind (even the back end of some Carbon Steel knives or an old file) and a hard sharp stone like Flint, Chert, and the like.
It must be harder then the Steel and have a bit of an edge. The idea is: The Steel contacts the stone with a Glancing blow. The stone peels a fine hair sized wire off the Carbon and under the friction of this impact is ignited like the wire in a flash bulb.
(for those that don't know, cameras used flash bulbs filled with Nichrome or Tungsten wire to illuminate the subject momentarily, An electric charge set the wire in the bulb burning in a momentary bright glowing "flash" then the burned bulb was discarded) Today we use Xenon type bulbs that are powered by a battery charging a capacitor that "dumps" energy as it discharges firing the flash again and again as needed. back to the fire..... This short lived "spark" needs to be caught in a material that is easily flammable. Char Cloth being the most common but different types of tinder can be found in the wild: certain types of fungus and vegetation at different stages of its life make great spark catchers. The spark is carefully eased to life with ones breath and when a flame jumps from the tinder it is transferred to the kindling.....bang, the next thing you know old Jed's a millionaire. Lets look at making Char Cloth:
Magnesium is more user friendly. Magnesium is HIGHLY flammable when peeled into fine ribbons, (they like to blow away on the slighted breeze) they burn insanely hot (in the thousands of degrees) and will light most material even when it is damp. To start the ribbons burning, you scrape an edge (a sharp edge) across the surface of the sparking insert. This throws copious amounts of hot sparks that burn at over a thousand degrees. One spark sets the whole thing off. Now lets take a minute here to pay homage and give the respect due to the miracle substance that makes all this possible. FERROCERIUM ! Sometimes called Mischmetal, this is a mixture of "Rare Earth" metals (iron-cerium-lanthanum-neodymium-praseodymium and magnesium, in case you want to go to the drug store and make your own) that spark when a sharp edge is run over it scraping off a shower of super hot (over a thousand degrees) sparks. As you can see there is NO Flint here at all, calling it Flint and Steel is like calling a refrigerator an ice box, it is yet it ain't. My favorite fire tools are by far the StrikeMaster tools, strong serious tools that take a beating and stand up to continual use. They are very well made, dependable and easy to use!! The Survival inc. company produces some nice tools as well. The StrikeForce and BlastMatch are handy and sturdy tools. Now, Ferrocerium is so good at doing what it does that it doesn't always need the magnesium to help things along. Find the right type of dry (even semi dry) tinder and you still have fire.


One Ferro rod can produce thousands of sparks and is little effected by weather, altitude or the users experience for that matter. Your Grandmother could make a fire with one of these things. Not carrying a Ferro rod is folly. It is by far the very best and most reliable way to start a fire, or camp stove.

On The Fly



Unless we are camping and in a "take" area we never keep fish. Although I believe there is nothing wrong with keeping two for the pan when the situation allows it. Trout for breakfast can be the highlight of your day when camping.


The time spent pursuing fish with Sam are some of my favorite fishing moments.





The first time Sam ever picked up a fly rod, he seemed to kind of get it. It took me a bit more time to become proficient but I guess he had a better teacher..............me.













He fits those boots allot better now.
The Hat lives on!


The Mongaup River is one of our "home waters", there is great fishing to be found in the local area but timing is defiantly everything. The beloved Neversink River is also within walking distance and will produce nice fish year round. Our trips afield with the Fly Rods are purely for the Zen of it. The casting is hypnotic and finding ones rhythm and timing can be as enjoyable as actually catching fish.

The bottom line is, there is no bad time to go fishing, only a poor days catch. If like me you find the connecting with nature the primary reason for getting out there, then a day with few fish or no deer or flushing few coveys is still worth the trip.

A swollen river makes the fishing tougher.

I get lost in the casting, the placement of the material on the water, its drift and the intense concentration that comes with this kind of single minded focus..........oh yeah, that's Fly Fishing.



I love the way a Brown Trout takes a Fly off the surface, some times their like fish Ninjas.




How Pretty is this? We never kill fish, the area allows you to take a few but we are too greedy.

We want to come back and catch em again!






We like to use a five weight rod for most of our fishing. Of course like most BUG TOSSERS, I own too many rods (if you can actually do that) a 3/4-three 5's a 6 a 7 and an 8/9. All with different casting characteristics. So I have a good bag of clubs to pick from depending on species, method and conditions. That's not uncommon. Sam has two rods, a soft 5 for delicate presentations and a long fast 5 for reaching out a bit or bucking the wind. I think he has the right idea, Keep it Simple Stupid!

Even a small Rainbow like this can be a challenge on light line. This one put up a heck of a fight. The marks on his sides are from him rolling on the line. No worries, he survived just fine.

I also like to watch for Otters....

I am haunted by Otters.