Even if you heard this piece last night on New Jersey’s Passaic River, check out the video in which NPR reporter Art Silverman talks about the rise, and fall — and hopefully rise again — of a waterway that jump-started our new country back in the day.
“She is crying out to be saved,” says the urban sherpa.
See you on the river, Jim Burns
Ah, blessed Friday!
I started out the day by buying a new pair of Orvis River Guard wading boots, because I tossed my two pairs of oldies with the felt soles. I’m already regretting that decision. Sure, Trout Unlimited and the country of New Zealand want you to ditch your felt. And, yes, every time I’d see the sign from the DFG on Hot Creek, and read about freezing my boots (which, BTW I didn’t do …. who does?) to kill the nasties, well, you get the drift. But, hey, maybe they would have been good for gardening, or scaring young children at Halloween. So today, there I was with a mismatched pair of Red Ball leg waders that would look great on an athletic pole dancer, but not so terrific on yours truly and new boots with “Vibram EcoTraX” soles. Nobody noticed, not even the ladies who were getting hay at the local hay shop next to Victory park (Another item from L.A. you wouldn’t expect).
At Orvis, I met manager Dave Shaffer, who suggested trying the river below the Victory Boulevard bridge. I did. I was skunked. Not his fault. I managed to miss the two fish I did sight, and when this happens, it’s both humbling and frustrating, not in equal measures.
Think I took the long way around to my actual thought for this post — fishing before work. Granted today I didn’t have to clock in, so maybe that had something to do with getting skunked. No matter. Several Fridays ago, when guide and buddy David Wratchford took this photo of moi, we talked about the general awesomeness of fishing before work. Once years ago, I was in Medford, Ore., en route to the Rouge River to kayak. A high school teacher and I got to talking, and he told me what a thrill it was to hook up before going to earn a living.
At the time, I couldn’t stand the guy, not because of his tone, his demeanor, his haircut, or anything else about him. My contempt was situational. In other words, he lived in a place where fishing before work was possible. I didn’t.
Where did I live at the time? L.A.
Was there a river running through it during the Pleistocene? Yes, thank you very much.
Did I know about it? Huh? Know about what? Don’t let this happen to you, kids.
So, as David and I walked back to our separate rides at the Red Car pocket park next to the Hyperion Bridge, the rubescent glow of a new morning illumined our smiles.
True, I was smiling because I’d caught the first fish on my new Galvin Rush Arbor reel, fitted with Sharkskin, the zingy, singing line. For him, well, I don’t know David well, but I get the feeling every time he’s on the river — any river — the thrill is like getting to fish before going to work. Except this time, that’s exactly what he was doing.
“Ahhh, don’t get me muddy,” he said to his second carp of the morning as its mighty tail paid him back for interrupting a leisurely breakfast.
You gotta love it when you can fish in your work clothes. But that’s where he’s got us, civilians. You can see him most days at Fisherman’s Spot in Van Nuys.
See you on the river, Jim Burns
Hoorah for Hollywood and now let’s cheer the L.A. County Board of Sups as well … Remember all the way back two weeks ago, when Prop. 26 was defeated? Well, today the supers voted 3-1 to ban plastic bags, which is cool, but it will only take place in unincorporated areas of the county. Think Altadena. That means the ban, which begins January 1, 2012, will not affect cities.
As a fly fisherman, you know you’re sick and tired of seeing trash in the Glendale Narrows, especially after a storm. So it should be worth it to either take your friggin’ bags with you on grocery runs, or pony up the dime that grocery stores will be able to charge for green bags.
Read all about it on L.A. Creek Freak, a thoroughly entertaining blog about the river.
See you on the river, Jim Burns
So, the question: what were you doing Sunday? Waiting for a few days off to visit the brown trout section of the Owens? Savoring the Trojans’ deep-dish desert smack down? Whatever it was, if you weren’t casting for carp, you missed it.
Ask Patrick. I met him on the water and he told me he’d already caught/released a good-size carp. Me, I got skunked in the hour I had to put in. It was, however, a sweet hour spent casting, hunting and hoping.
Then, I headed over to Porto’s for some Cuban bread, which looks a whole lot like French bread. Difference? I’m not sure (maybe a canny commenter will tell us …), but the Cuban pressed sandwiches we ate later that afternoon were great.
Moral of the story. Go fishing in our river. Be home in time for lunch.
See you on the river, Jim
Under shameless promotion, get thee to a newsstand (are there still newsstands … ?) and buy the latest issue of California Fly Fisher magazine.
My piece talks about history, Friends of the Los Angeles River, getting a ticket, and there are some beauty shots of guide David Wratchford pulling in carp.
See you on the river, Jim Burns
Let’s go fly fish the L.A. River, catch a 5-pound carp (or much bigger) and spend the day away.
Without work. With friends.
Seriously.
Much of the 51 miles of river looks like something out of a “Transformers” chase scene. That’s because Hollywood production companies frequently shoot the concrete stretches, making the river famous for all the wrong reasons. That’s fine for Hollywood, not great for us. To get some carp action, try this easy day trip.
First, park your car in the municipal lot adjacent to the golf course in Atwater Village. Then, set your sights on the Los Feliz Café, 3207 Los Feliz Blvd, Los Angeles, CA 90039, (323) 661-2355, for good eats. You might want to save this until after fishing, but to legally use the lot, you gotta snack. You could also bring your clubs for a quick nine after fishing. Surf ‘n’ turf.
Two, walk west with rod in hand, a 7 wt. or above, loaded with 3x leader, attached to a glow bug. This is one of only a few access points you’ll find elaborately marked. Walk through artist Michael Amescua’s Guardians of the River gate, and you’re here. To your left is the Tropico Bridge, opened in 1925. Across the water, you’ll see the end of Griffith Park, along with the buzzing I-5 freeway. To your right, time to fish.
Three, walk along the bike path and look for carp. It’s much easier if you can spot them, then to blind cast. Believe me, there are hundreds and hundreds in the water. Note about water: it’s reclaimed upstream. Hook carp. Hear reel whizz hopefully into backing. Repeat.
Four, send me pictures of your adventure and I’ll post them. Tell friends. Go often. Remember, it’s yours.
See you on the river, Jim Burns.
lariverflyfishing 