The Home Water-Loy Lake

Now that I'm an orphan (daughter and her family moved to Houston, other daughter off to TCU, senior son never ever ever home, Zach in Denton, Tam out of town, both of those @#$*&$# dogs gone to their new home) I took the opportunity to spend a quiet evening on Loy Lake. Loy Lake is a remnant of the FDR era, the WPW to be exact, and was once the gathering place for local teenagers. There was,at one time, a dance floor built on piers out over the upper end of the lake, a concession stand, and a swimming platform. Now, the old girl lies alone and mostly untouched. This day, however, there were a few other visitors. One guy launched his bass buddy, and while he was parking the trailer, a rogue gust blew his little craft out into the middle of the lake. Good neighbor Sam here paddled my trusty kayak to the drifting vessel, and like a modern day Captain Cook took her captive and towed her to shore (under paddle power, I might add). The fishing was pretty slow, as one would expect for early evening in August on topwaters. I caught about six in the six-inch range, and then some "smaller" ones. Greens, redbellies, a bluegill, and some shellcrackers. No basses, no carps. Oh-and all those ads that tell you a Native Ultimate is safe to stand in to fish-don't believe it. Perhaps if you are a gymnast or ballet dancer guy you could pull it off, but I do know that you can't stand to attend the calls of nature. Had it not been for a nearby Bud Light can, the situation would have grown desperate. Thank God for the penchant of Grayson county residents to litter a beautiful old work of art with their empties. The rod is a fairly new TFO six-weight that I bought in Broken Bow last year when I forgot my trout stick, the reel is an old Hardy Marquis 7/8 that I bought years ago as my northern pike reel when we lived in Montana. The line is a Mastery trout floating 6 weight. The fly of the day was a black rubber spider in the rocks.

http://www.co.grayson.tx.us/Special/LoyLake/LoyLake.htm

Carp on the Fly-July 2009

Both these beauties were taken on a scorching July afternoon below the Morris Shepard Dam at Possum Kingdom Lake. Modest size carp were feeding in the shallow riffles, with their backs out of the water. I must have cast to forty or fifty of them, and landed two. I had a great big one on for a brief moment, but he took my fly and went his own way. Casts had to be fairly long, and the fly was left motionless on the bottom until I suspected the carp had moved over it. Then, a typical strip strip strip retrieve, more often than not ignored. The fly de jour was a Befus fly, the rod was the old six-weight Orvis graphite that Tam gave me when I graduated Med School in 1981. The reel was a Cabelas SLR I bought off a guy on the now-defunct Texas Fly Report. And-what trip to the Brazos would be complete without a trip to the worlds loneliest Whataburger-I met brother Jim for a Whopper with cheese.

Llano River

After a late start and a long drive, Tam and I pulled up to Ray Carrington's on the Llano about ten o'clock. Curmudgenly old Dave Jones showed us to our room, "Dame Julianna's Attic". Attic, indeed-long on cute, short on comfort. Had I known how unsatisfactory the bath was, I would have ponied up another twenty bucks for a nicer spread. Nevertheless, we had a good night's sleep and were up and around in time for Dave's breakfast. Eggs, bacon, biscuits, and wonderful jams and jellies. We did some damage. My guide for the day, Marcos, was right on time, and by ten we were setting off down the Llano from the James River crossing. Access was excellent at the James-we didn't even get our feet wet.  Eight hours and six miles later, we came ashore at Martin's Crossing. We tallied forty to fifty guadalupes, two large mouths, and dozens of yellow bellies-nothing of any size. Friday night was dinner at Santos' Taqueria in Mason, and then back to Ray's for bed. Saturday, we did the tourist thing, taking a look at Llano and Fredricksburg. German food for lunch, and dinner at the world's greatest bargecue joint-Cooper's in Llano. Just so happened that NBA hall of famer Jerry West was in the joint, in a black sports coat, eating barbecue ribs. Go figure.

All in all,it was a great weekend. Marcos was an outstanding guide and really worked hard trying to put me on fish. Ray's is a lovely setting with good breakfast and interesting people, but spring for one of the bigger rooms. Fredericksburg, Llano, and Mason are gorgeous hill country towns with lots to see and do and eat and drink. Now that I know how easy access is, I'll do the next hundred trips self service.  Marcos will have to show me the San Marcos and the Devil's.

www.llanoriver.com

www.guidesoftexas.com

 

At the launch.  Easy in, and on down.

This is Fred Gibson's house, close to the takeout.  See, all you have to do is write one cheesy children's book (Old Yeller), sell it to Disney, make everybody in the world cry, and live like a king in a mansion on the Llano for the rest of your life. 

Yellow Belly Sunfish were prominent-this little riffle had about five or six, all this size.

The Official State Fish of Texas-The Guadalupe.  Caught forty or so of these, all less than a pound.  Two largemouths, a few greenies, and a strike from a gar.  Not a bad day.
My one hoss-power canoe motor, Marcos.  He worked hard all day, against a pretty stiff wind. Below, some of the river is unbelievably fishy.  Dave Whitlock took a three pound largemouth off of this salt-cedar point.  I didn't. 

The end of the road.  We didn't go past Watson's crossing.  It will be there next time, also.

The main house and kitchen, from the river.  We were in the upstairs area to the left-with a private outside stair.  The cliffs below are at least a hundred feet, and covered with swallows.  Marcos says this is where the cichlids were hanging out, but we didn't find one.  The greenies from this hole were almost black.  

The takeout at Martin's Crossing.  Six miles as the river flows.  
The Llano in front of Ray's place has some very fishy looking rocks, and is easy to wade.Raye has canoes and kayaks for rent, and will shuttle.  Unfortunately, Saturday morning was cold, drizzly, and had thirty mile per hour winds.  I didn't fight this very long.  Or very well.  Besides, I was fished out from the day before.   The river has been there for billions of years-it will be there later this year.