Congratulations to everyone who competed in last weekends “Southwest Colorado Regional.”  With more than 500 trout netted by 16 anglers over the weekend it sounds like the contest was a great success!  Congratulations to Brian Capsay and his team for staging a full fips-mouche loch style tournament in 2010.

Thank you to everyone that took a part in this competition and a special congratulations to our new Top Ranked Anglers!

http://troutlegend.com/leaders-board-2010-2011/

Detailed results of this competition and all future “TroutLegend Sanctioned” competitions will be available for download as a free member of the TroutLegend Forum: HERE

We are very proud to announce the introduction of two new teams into the TroutLegend Competitive Fly Fishing Cooperative:  “Team America Cup” based near Denver, Colorado led by David Pehle and “Team TroutLegend Utah” based near Salt Lake City, Utah led by Jeremy Allan.  The addition of these 2 Rocky Mountain loci will greatly enhance the Coop’s mission to support and grow the culture of Fips-Mouche style competitive fly fishing in North America.

Both of these teams are looking for talented new Members.  Whether you’re a new and ambitious beginner in the comp’ circuit or a “tried and true” veteran being a part of a team is the best way to enhance your skill set and give back to the sport.  Contact information and team updates for both of these squads can be found here in the forum under their respective team boards.

Springville, NY. The first deep breath I take stepping out into the pre dawn light crystallizes every hair in my nose and immediately dries my eyes open. That’s when you know it’s cold. That’s when you know it’s time to go fishing. Crunching my way across glassy snow I find the car’s lock frozen solid. Won’t budge. Not even a smidge. In fact, after trying to heat my keys up by breathing on them they are now stranded deep in the bastard. I stand there staring for a moment like King Arthur over a stone embedded Sword. But I’m just some shmuck trying to go fishing. 7 minutes later I’m back with a mug full of boiled water of which I somehow miraculously acquired all the while not waking the babies and ladies. Now my gear is packed and I’m heading down a back country road. There is a great feeling of relief and freedom for an angler who is “married with children” when he is finally rolling away in his steed. Up until that point you are still “on duty” and any number of catastrophes could come rolling along to tether you home. Not that the battle is over mind you, but it’s half won. For any “trout bum” who loves his family is never really “gone fish’n!”. At least not in the Gierach way we have all come to immortalize. No, a true family oriented angler is merely: “fishing for awhile, but will be back soon, very soon.” Just doesn’t look very catchy hanging on sign though does it?

Route 219 runs for 535 miles from West Seneca, NY to Rich Creek, Virginia. The first 35 odd miles from Seneca to Springville is a true divided highway, but the rest runs a course through every little town, hamlet, and bar & church village along the way. The State Of New York is trying frantically to extend the featureless convenience of the “divided” portion down to Ellicottville NY, but have willfully dug up every setback and environmental blunder they can muster along the way. For this angler it’s a mixed blessing. Sure, the extension will make for a faster trip. I’ll be fishing at least an hour earlier on my ventures into Pennsylvania’s famous trout waters. Maybe even save a little gas money too. But there will be no memory of the journey. Traveling on so many of the major highways of our country is like entering into some cryogenic sleep chamber for a trip to across the galaxy. Get in your vehicle, set the destination, pick your cabin temperature, and go to sleep. Highways have been cut long, straight, and simple to speed up the journey. Not to enhance the memory of the trip. The Great yellow machines of men have cut, crushed, and paved every interesting feature into a long grey smooth lane which bypasses every hint of real hometown America. From time to time they give you an exit to some zombie like parking lot or just as mundane and featureless eatery like McDonalds. Don’t be fooled! You are not making good time. You are wasting good time. For now, rt. 219 is relatively safe. Together we meander through the shops of Ellicottville, across rivers, past ponds, farm lands, near ski slopes, past little shops, church doors swung open, and down the Southern tier. I have a distinct feeling of going “down” when I’m heading south. Vice versa when I’m heading north. If I travel to Toronto I say: “I’m going up to TO.” And I really have the sensation of traveling up in altitude. Kind of like climbing a long sloping pass into the great Rocky Mountains out of the flat range of Denver. I have to remind myself its all pretty flat. But something about the way I orient maps and destinations in my mind makes it so. A life time of learning that North is up and South is down. So, down I travel on old route 219.

As I pass into PA and near my destination of Bradford I check my Google Map. Why did I print a Google Map? I have no idea. Since it basically says: “get on 219, go south, get off at Bradford, make turn, turn, fish.” Many Anglers know well those directions: “Take 219, get off, fish.” From 18 Mile Creek to the Clarion and beyond route 219 parallels, crosses, and criss-crosses so many good Trout Streams that they are hard to count on a room full of hands. Somehow though, despite my simple directions, I’m lost after 2 turns. I head into town, meander around for awhile, then find the street I’m seeking and take it back out of town toward the Bradford University Campus. All the while I’m dreaming of getting a Car GPS device for Christmas. Which I do end up getting because I’m writing this in the past tense. But I haven’t used it yet. I’m worried it will turn me into one of those glazed over idiots who can’t find their way out of their backyard now without consulting that digitized female voice. It happens. It’s happened to many of my friends. Guys that used to be dam fine navigators. Trackers even. Now they couldn’t find a lit up airport runway without someone saying: “Lit up Airport Runway. On Right. 10meters.”

As I near the “spot” I see my buddy and TroutLegend team mate Mark Hanes is all ready out scanning the water. M.H. is a cartographer by trade, maybe even second or third generation map maker and you can tell he has an eye for detail. When he’s scanning a piece of water it looks like he’s breaking it up into tiny little squares. Maybe he’s 25, maybe he’s 45, depending on the light you’d be hard pressed to make a guess. Today he’s plotted a delectable course of midwinter holdover Rainbows, followed by a Class A Wild Brown Trout Stream, and then more Rainbows to finish up the day.

Approaching the bottom part of our first run I contemplate my offering. M.H. and I had kidded around about “bobbering up” but we’re both out to practice within Fips-Mouche rules… as is the case with most serious competitive anglers when they pursue trout. However, we both know full well that a very slow vertical approach with “float and shot” can be an extremely effective way to take lethargic, winter hole bound trout. Utilizing some sort of foam “indicator fly” could mimic this technique, but we both choose to start off with variations of a long leader euro system. The idea is to get down and deep to wintering trout, but not to “lead” the flies as is the case in warmer weather with this technique. Mark chooses a straight colored mono sighter and I use a curly whirly. We start off at a good looking dump and plunge pool produced by the converging water of a long glassy widened glide separated by a few innocuous riffles. This seems like appropriate water to hold deep wintering trout, but we soon find that the hole isn’t deep enough and the current probably too swift. We move up through the next 200 yard section, leap-froging, and sharing water without need for words as comes easily with like minded team mates. However, not a trout to be seen in that entire section. Not even one spooked. With an ambient temperature of roughly 23 and shelf ice abound it’s becoming glaringly evident that not some, but all the trout in this stream have navigated to deep, slow wintering holes. We need to find one! The next 80 yard section has a mix of riffles, runs, and cutbacks, but still not more than 2 or 3 feet depth. We still spend some serious time carefully picking this section apart just because we know it would hold numerous trout in better weather. Not today though. Finally we round a bend and find a nice 30 foot pool with an unknown depth. An unknown depth is good – that means it’s deep. M.H. leads the way and bounces a fish in the first few drifts. Things are looking up. Contemplating the depth of the hole I extend my tippet section below my coiled indicator to a whopping 8feet. With a rubber leg stone on the point and a bright green caddis on the dropper I take great care not to lead my flies yet keep a light contact. This last part proves the key to open the door and soon I’m into 3 hard fighting, brilliantly colored rainbows. M.H. has a similar rig on, but when I land the 4th bow he quickly moves over to a coiled sighter and something with “legs”! The strikes were coming slow and gentle and the coiled sighter gave us just enough forgiveness to detect it. From there out we bounce around and land vibrant colored bow after bow. We fish a good mile long section and find all the fish in 3 or 4 wintering holes. It amazes me how these territorial fish can shrug off their instincts for awhile and band together against the cold… like some great warring Russian tribes coming together against harsh Icelandic storms.

As the sun crests on it’s small winter arch over the trees it begins to melt some of the shelf ice. All though it warms our wind beaten souls it has the reverse effect on the fishing – now we can’t find an inch of open water as iridescent slush ice overtakes the stream. We take a break to eat some subs at Subway in our waders with only mildly quizzical looks by the shy attendants. When the sun falls back below the tree line the slush ice freezes again and bonds to the shore. With open water ahead we tackle our next 2 destinations, but the short winter day soon comes to an end. Back at the car we inspect flies, take notes, investigate rigs, and make plans for the next practice. Deep winter fishing certainly isn’t a complete workout for the competitive minded angler, but it keeps the dust off the old rods and seems a lot better than a long “honey do” list.

Competitive Fly Fishing Teams TroutLegend and Stonefly join forces to launch the “TroutLegend Competitive Fly Fishing Cooperative”.

Competitive fly fishing in North America is on the rise.

Long established overseas, more and more fly fishermen in North America are testing their skills against fellow anglers. In 2009 alone there were a vast array of independent local, regional, and national tournaments.

Even with an increased interest in competitive fly fishing, anglers in the North America have a long way to go to match the depth and rigor of competitive circuits found overseas. What is needed is a support system that encourages and supports best practices in the formation of competitive teams and events.

The TroutLegend Competitive Cooperative is a viable solution to this growing need.

The TroutLegend Competitive Cooperative’s mission is to serve as a support mechanism in the formation of competitive teams, the coordination and planning of competitive events, and the establishment of a regional and national ranking system.

What are the benefits to “joining” the cooperative?

For the aspiring competitive angler who has yet to join a team, the cooperative is a place to meet likeminded competitors. Via the cooperative’s team directory and team profile pages, independent anglers can search for information on teams in their region or area.

For the aspiring competitive team, the cooperative is a place to learn from established teams regarding team formation, network for additional teammates, and establish a national identity via the team directory and team profile pages.

For existing competitive teams, the TroutLegend Competitive Cooperative is a place to coordinate inter-team practices and mini-comps, collaborate on regional, national, or international tournaments, and establish a common ranking system for competitors.

What commitment must a team make to join the cooperative?

Akin to other “Coops” the TroutLegend Cooperative is based on a direct participation model: “you get out, what you put in”. Teams wishing to join the TroutLegend Competitive Cooperative need simply agree, in principal, to work with other members of the cooperative in support of competitive fly fishing and become an active participant in the “TroutLegend Network” via the well established web portal.

In return, each team joining the cooperative will have their information placed in the team directory and team profile’s section. This section will also include a place for teams to collaborate in support of inter-team practices, tournaments, and events. Each team will also nominate and place a member on the “Ranking Committee” which will oversee the “National Ranking System” as well as the overall actions and future of the Coop.

2nd cast

proceeded to nail a couple fish in that range as well as some respectable 12 inch browns

Moved down to an undercut bank along a swift riffle and stung this guy in the lip with the new midge

Ended the day on a high note with the rainbow who also came on the midge

However, the fish of the day gos to my buddy witha bugger eatin brown

too bad I can’t get the team members to take an hour drive south to fish where the real fish are!

Well folks.  Long story short: “heartbreak weekend.”  I knew my odds at placing high enough to make the team were slim at best, but there’s always that little hopeful child deep in your soul that says: “maybe, just maybe!

Tuesday: After ferrying my 4 year old off to PreSchool I race home and pack the car and rocket towards State College, PA.  5 hours later I meet up with my Team Captain Leanord Sauers and we spend a couple hours throwing various patterns at picky wild trout on Big Fishing Creek.  Looks like the fish are keying in on patterns with rubber legs and smaller nymphs without hotspots seem to be the ticket.  Around 7pm I meet up with my roomies’ Kevin Compton and Randy Hanner.  It’s good to see old friends and we wax poetical about the competitive scene and fly tying late into the night over a few beers.  As always Kevin has all his wares with him including a rack of primo Dohiku Hooks and a box full of Coc-De-Leon capes that you could probably trade straight up for a car.

Wednesday: I meet up with my 2 other teammates Kevin Thomson and Barney Nailor and we bang our heads against Fishing Creek again for a few hours and then decide to high tail it over to Penns Creek.  Making our way over the mountain pass we find many of the competitors and the Youth Team practicing at Poe Paddy Park Campground area.  We hike upstream a bit and work our way down.  The fishing is tough on some seriously heavily pressured water, but we all manage a few.  All of a sudden a slim figure appears from the woods and jumps in a stretch of river I just fished.  It’s an older gentlemen wading like a maniac. He’s casting a dry dropper rig to the shoreline from the middle of the river and nearly stumbling over every rock as he works his way upstream with his wading stick.  About every 25 feet the guy is getting a fish.  I sit down to study the guy’s tactics and realize it’s none other than Eddie Pinkston. A little while later Barney fishes up through the same stretch with a size 20 Bead Head Baetis pattern and is catching fish left and right, but losing most on a non comp. style hook.  We head back for basecamp with a few pieces of the puzzle resolved.

Thursday: Against better judgment I decide to join Randy Hanner for a half day on The Little Juniata.  The problem here is The “J” is so darn easy you really don’t learn anything useful for competition.  However, we had really nice “confidence building” session right below the outflow of Spruce Creek.  There was literally a fish behind every rock.  It was a real treat getting to fish with a really high caliber angler who knows how to share a river.  We picked a 200 yard stretch of the river clean – sharing drifts and splitting the river into sections without ever making a game plan.  After 2 hours we had maybe 30 fish landed and headed downriver a few miles for a change of scenery.  More of the same downriver with a few very nice 18” fish in the mix.  Later that evening many old faces started showing up at the Motel.  Some of my favorite blokes started arriving like the “Southern Boys” : Chris Lee, Josh Stephens, and some new faces from the board.  This is one of my favorite parts of competition – sharing information and just the general good willed comradery between old friends and high caliber anglers.  Too bad there wasn’t more time for that kind of thing, but each and every competitor had a nagging little red devil sitting on their shoulder constantly muttering: “are you ready?”

Friday: The hotel is empty when I wake up.  Not a competitor or car in sight.  Everyone is off gaining info and fishing their butts off, but I decide to take the day off and just sit around tying and mentally preparing.  K2 finally arrives and we have a great time talking shop.  A bit later though the rain starts… and once it starts it doesn’t stop.  I call Leanord up and get my beat assignments: Spring, Spring, Little J, Penns, Fishing Creek is my stead for the weekend.  Basically the exact opposite anyone would want to fish for a blown out region.  Not only that but I’m on a bus with the “big boys” as Aaron Jasper says: George Daniels, Loren Williams, and Norman Maktima.  Not that there’s an easy bus in this competition, but this may be the toughest.  Before everyone falls asleep they do a quick mad dash tying streamers.

Saturday: Up at 5am.  Geared up and out the door.  Coffee and off to the Ramada to catch the bus.  It’s still raining.  Reports are that Penns Creek went from 400cfs to 5000cfs overnight!!  Everyone’s talking about how this is basically leveled the playing field and it could be anyone’s game now!  The organizers have rented 4 huge touring buses to cart the competitors around.  I jump on the Spring Creek bound trolley and after a few turns we arrive.  The stream doesn’t look that bad at first glance.  We roll down the path past Fisherman’s Paradise and line up along our respective beats.  I have #7.  There’s a long slow glide that eventually turns into 4 separate dump riffles after a large Oak Tree. Looks like a killer beat – I’ve got a mix of riffle water and slow water.  The Gods must be crazy because my good buddy and roommate Kalvin (K2) happens to be my controller for my first session – I take it as a good omen!  We set the clock and off I go!  First I try long leader nymphing up through the riffles.  Unfortunately, I don’t hook a fish in the first 25 minutes and just didn’t see the signs of the clarity decreasing and the water rising fast enough.  Not that I was totally oblivious to the situation, but I made a tactical decision to stick with Euro Nypmhing, and utilizing progressively larger flies, because I had determined there was sufficient visibility to do so.  At the 1hour mark I finally get a clue and run to shore and switch to a streamer rig on a type 3 full sink. I head up to the top of the beat with the long slow glide and start swinging down.  At the bottom of the glide I feel that delicious little tug and a bit later have 1 small brown trout in the net.  Luckily she just measures… I’m on the board! No blank.  Unfortunately, 2 rotations through my entire beat produce no more fish. On the way out I learn 2 other anglers have more than 1 fish, and 6 have 1… all are longer than mine.  I end up with 9^th place.  9 placing points. Just 1 better than the dreaded blank.

Off we travel to our second beat – upper Spring Creek.  She is now TOTALLY blown!  Everywhere you look there is debris floating downriver including a toilet seat, foam blocks, a whole tree, and a dead duck.  You know a flood is rather severe when Ducks are drounding – they’re living PFDs after all!  It looks absolutely useless to even fish, but it’s just not my style. I rig up a trusty Winston 4wt 9ft with a Type 5 full sink and set off to try not to drowned.  I cover each bank twice and nearly risk my life crossing the river in the process.  Not a single tug.  At one point I’m fishing mid river to the banks, barely keeping my foot hold in the heavy current when a huge 6 foot tree trunk comes floating by not 2 inches off my flank – it actually lightly brushed my leg and would have most certainly chopped me off at the knees for a downriver debacle the likes of which I care not to imagine.  To add insult to injury I fish a slow stall out on the far side of my beat for the last 30 minutes of my session.  Every 8 minutes a fish rises literally right under my rod tip!  I can only look over to my controller and share shrugs of disbelief.  I blank.  However, the entire field blanks the whole second session.  That is except for one lucky youth competitor that some how manages to hook a single brown trout on The Little Juniata.  David Woody has 11 placing points and would be leading the pack at the end of the night if not for one lucky youth competitor.  Woody is in my group, and I believe, pounced on 5 fish earlier in our AM Spring session by going straight to big streamers!  It’s uncomfortable but I’m finding a way to physicall kick myself in the butt.

Back at base camp K2 and Kevin Compton are trying to pump up my sullen spirits.  They say: “anything is possible!   Come on man – it’s really still anybodies game!” They tie me up some nice looking streamer patterns and as I doze off for the evening, exhausted emotionally and physically, a little hope springs into my consciousness… a little hope bogged down by 19 heavy placing points. All but one competitor in the competition has 11 placing points though and there is room for hope.

Sunday: A new day.  Much of the pressure is off now.  The rain is gone and streams like Spring and the “J” are starting to get fishy. I’ve come to term with the stark reality of my situation and embrace it.  Coffee, a look at the leader sheet, and I board the bus bound for one of my favorite and easiest “wild” trout streams in the eastern hemisophere: The Little Juniata River.  Arriving at Spruce Creek we are greeted by Sector Judge RangerKeen and one extremely well oiled team of Controllers.  In no time at all we are off to our beats.  A short ride, be it a cold one, in the back of a F150 and I walk down to my beat with my controller.  Things are not looking that bad. I have a really sweet looking section with dump and slide riffles leading into a deep “drowned an elephant” pool.  I set up one streamer rod.  I don’t even take out another.  9am and it’s go time!  This time I start mid way through my beat. I pick off the last little riffle section and work down into the large pool. My thinking is thus: if the streamer approach doesn’t work out I’ve at least targeted a riffle section and the main deeper pool, but still left the really tasty upper riffle section for some Nymphing.  Nothing for the first 10 minutes.  I progress down to the bottom of the deeper pool. I’m starting to feel the omni present weight of a blank… but suddenly my spirits rise as I sting a beautiful brown and bring her to net!  1 down.  My controller hasn’t measured a fish to date and is immersed with detailing the account when I set another fish.  2 gorgeous Little J browns caught and released as quick as lighting.  I’m on the board now and spirits are rising. I thoroughly work the back end of the long pool now realizing that fish are situated there because of the flow and clarity.  Nothing. I run to the top of my beat.  From here out I catch a fish pretty much every 20 minutes of my beat.  There is a lull where I make a half hearted attempt to cross the river and fish some very fishy slow water sections, but curl off mid river for fear of my life.   Near the end of my session my controller says: “go get 8, you need 8!” I think to myself: “yeah 8 would be good but I probably need 12 to win!” We are both right.  I place 2^nd just above George Daniels who also had 7 fish, but mine end up being longer… we are both beat by the lucky and skilled Norman Makitima with 11 fish.

Now on the bus and off to Penns Creek.  The standard mediocre brown bag lunches of ham or turkey sandwich, lays chips, and cookies tastes absolutely divine just about now.  The sun is shining, the country side is picturesque, and I feel like all things are possible.  Maybe I can catch just one fish on Penns. I know there are whole trees floating down river. I know she is washing pick nick tables away. But maybe, just maybe I can catch one little lucky trout – one little lucky trout that will put me on the leader board. It’s possible. Other anglers are doing it.  4 fish in today’s morning session – 1 to each of 4 anglers.  With my 2^nd placing I might have a chance of still pulling this thing out of the muck.  This is one of those moments that stick in your consciousness like a controlled substance and cause you to return year after year.  It’s euphoric.  You are a leader.  You’re a winner… if only for a fleeting few hours you feel that anything is possible and you can manufacture your own destiny.  So addictive.  Just writing this I want more now!

Unfortunately, the reality of the evening would not be a fairytale ending.  Penns Creek is an absolute debacle.  I have a beat with a slow roundout at the top and a slow deep channel at the bottom, but the rest of my beat… approximately 90% of my territory is inaccessible due to the overflowing waters butting up against overhanging trees and thick rose bushes.  So, I gear up and throw a prayer into the river for one single fish. I fish the top roundout hard for 45 minutes losing about 14 flies on 2 sunken trees.  No hits.  I fish down my beat for about 15 minutes dapping my flies here and there, but there is absolutely no holding water until the bottom channel.  At the bottom I wade chest deep and then shove my 10 foot 5wt another 8 feet off a drop to the bottom twitching back two large streamers.  For some idiotic reason I only wore a lonely pair of boxers beneath my waders.  The rushing frigid waters soon turn more than my lips a deep hue of blue. I close my eyes slightly and enter a meditative cycle of cast, swing, wait, strip. Repeat.  After about 1.5 hours of this I get a slight tug, tug, tug, but as I lift my rod it’s gone! Might have been a fish.  Might have been a leaf broadside in the current.  Hard to tell. My heart races for a moment then sinks.  Soon after a few old timers stroll up and tell me one of the best, and deepest, fish packed channels in the entire river happens to be exactly where I’m fishing.  I thank them with a tinge of sarcasm that I’m glad they don’t detect.  The bell rings and my session ends.  As I get on the bus I find the usual leaders like George Daniels and Norman Makitma were able to find a fish.  Most others blanked.  Some times you learn that not only skill wins the day in these competitions, but that incalculable factor some call “being fishy.”

Back at home base most anglers can see the writing on the wall.  Some have a shot at finishing strong, but the bulk of the field are now “out of the money.”  There’s actually a serenity that comes with knowing the game is over.  Not that anyone ever gives up – we all fish hard to the end!

Monday: On the way to Big Fishing Creek there’s a beautiful tinge of fall in the air.  A bright harvest sun crests the valley and starts melting the evening frost.  Things are pretty relaxed. My controller sets up a lawn chair to watch me fish the only tiny stretch of fishable water on my beat, but quickly retires to his car’s heater to warm up every 15 minutes. I have the stream to myself.  My section is a straightway with no reprieve.  There are a few tiny little eddies behind flooded trees that I dap for 40minutes, but the prime section is the mouth of a tiny little feeder trickle.  My controller mentions right off the bat: “that’s where you’re gonna wanna fish! That’s where a guy got one last time.” So I explore my entire beat in one long 40minute walk, but return to that little piece of filet mingon and pound it for 2 hours and 15minutes with every single fly on my palate.  Nothing.  Not even a nibble.  Since I was pretty much self controlling I set a timer on my watch – as the last 5 minutes of my 2009 National Fly Fishing excursion tick away I’m feeling at peace with it all.

Back on the bus there are 7 other blanks.  Norman Makitma nabbed 2 and George Daniels grabbed 4 swimming with his surf jacket in the process. Cell phones are a buzz and soon it is apparent that GD has most likely won back to back Nationals.  Incredible.  I ask George if he’d caught those 4 specific fish before and he just smiles: “there’s definitely an advantage to fishing on your home waters.”

Later at the Barbecue people are casting rods, swapping stories, and checking over the results.  The losers start to slip away while the winners pool up into little groups and head off to celebrate. I meet Walter Ungerman in person for the first time and we talk about blogs, and the team, and how to identify a computer.  I consider staying for the awards ceremony, but my drinking buddies the “southern boys” have flown the coupe and after awhile I realize it’s totally selfish, but I just can’t stand to sit through a long dinner watching happy faces receive shiny medals.  So I tear back to the motel, throw all my gear haphazardly into the car, and get out of dodge!

As I drive the first 2 hour leg of my 5 hour trip home I take stock of the last 3 years of competitive fly fishing and my journey to make Team USA.  All though one of the goals was not reached my angling skills and knowledge of the field have soared… and that was my first and ultimately only reason for entering the circuit.  I decide to “retiree” from active competition for the next 2 years.  I think: “if the spark is still there in 2012 then I’ll give it another go just once before I’m 40.  It’s been a great journey, but there’s no doubting the financial and emotional toll it can wreak on you and your loved ones.  Time to settle down and concentrate on family, spend more time guiding and instructing, who knows maybe I’ll go back to school!  Another fun chapter in my angling career has come to a close.

2 hours later I’m calculating how I can get to the very next regional.

Cheers,

Dejon Hamann

www.TroutLegend.com

The competition will be held on sections of the following rivers during the listed times and dates. Check in with TCO fly shop in State College late next week for exact locations and directions to the streamside competition http://www.tcoflyfishing.com

Rivers:
Penns Creek
The Little Juniata River
Spring Creek
Big Fishing Creek

Times/Dates:
9am-12pm, 2pm-5pm – - Sat 10/24 & Sun 10/25
9am-12pm – - Mon 10/26

Or if you’re of the mind, organizers may still need volunteers:
Volunteer Signup

You’re dedicated TroutLegend Reporter will be on the scene! Check back for quick updates as the competition rages on and hopefully many lush pictorial essays before and after the actual event.

Remember top 15 point totals will make Team USA. Point totals have been tallied from National Championship to National Championship. Next year’s point tally will include this year’s National so the only carry over is the National Championship points. The World Team competing in Poland will be determined by 3 top point getters and 2009 US National Champion. Pete Erickson and Mike Sexton have already been determined to be on the 2010 World Championship Team. These 6 individuals will make up the 5 starters and alternate for Team USA in Poland.

This year’s National Champion will receive 15,000 points and a spot going to the 2010 World Fly Fishing Championships in Poland! Good luck to everyone!

Regards,
Anthony Naranja
Fly Fishing Team USA – Captain

Fly Fishing Team USA Point Totals
(Heading into 2009 National Championship)

1. George Daniel 12,000
2. Josh Stephens 10,483
3. Devin Olsen 9,244
4. Lance Egan 9,109
5. Pete Erickson 8,744
6. Anthony Naranja 7,950
7. Mike Sexton 7,483
8. Loren Williams 5,084
9. Bret Bishop 4,880
10. Norman Maktima 4,557
11. Scott Robertson 3,551
12. Eddie Pinkston 3,500
13. Randy Hanner 3,300
14. Jim Hickey 2,700
15. Kurt Finlayson 1,910
16. Rob Kolanda 1,604
17. Brian Kimmel 1,438
18. Brian Capsay 1,250
19. Riley Cotter 1,200
20. Matt Powell 1,125
21. Jake Ricks 925
22. Dejon Hamann 913
23. Trevor Wine 900
24. Alec Gerbec 800
25. Chris Lee 800
26. John Roberts 701
27. Barney Naylor 700
28. Sandy Wright 693
29. Charles Kempe 600
30. David Woody 533
31. Merry Waugh 530
32. Spencer Higa 480
33. Leonard Sauers 467
34. Paul Colcord 400
35. Tom Smith 343
36. Wes Congdon 300
37. Tony Felicilda 300
38. Zach Herbel 300

State College, PA-The United States Fly Fishing Championships will be held in the State College Region October 24th through October 26th, 2009. The event is sponsored by the United States Youth Fly Fishing Team and the Central PA Convention & Visitors Bureau. Fishing waters that will be utilized for the event include Spring Creek, Fishing Creek, Penn’s Creek and the Little Juniata River. Organizers of the event are looking for volunteers to help manage and judge the competition.

Some of the Criteria are as follows:

Sector Judges-Sector Judges are responsible for the proper conduct and record of the competition and supervising and training controllers.

Controllers-Controllers are responsible for recording details of each eligible fish per supervised competitor and enforcing competition rules during the event.

To volunteer to be either a Sector Judge or a Controller for the event, please log on to www.centralPACVB.org/volunteer to fill out an application.