Bamboo, bamboo,

the sweetest grass of all

“Four strips, five strips, six strips, each one different, yet all lithe and beautifully made.”

—The old grouch

The afternoon and evening of June 25, Barb and I had a chance to fish with an old friend, Tony Bonavist. For years, Tony was a fisheries biologist working in Region 3. Now he and his friends meet Wednesdays on the East Branch of the Delaware. They refer to themselves as the “bamboo gang.” Dave Brandt, the famous Catskill style fly tier, is the only member still fishing a plastic fly rod. The group chooses to overlook this character flaw in Dave because he brings the beer. Before fishing, the merits of various bamboo fly rods are discussed. If a difference of opinion is aired, a rod is actually cast on the lawn.

This was quite an experience for Barb and me. We had the unexpected pleasure of casting a Per Brandin quad rod. This four stripper happened to be only the 12th rod Per had ever built. It cast beautifully, with no effort. There were several Payne’s and a Garrison, which were also admired. Several members cast our two Kirri rods, which were built by our Japanese friend Kuma Kirri. After easily reaching out to 60 feet with both the seven-foot two-inch and the seven-foot six-inch rods, Dave Brandt opined that “there is no quit in these rods.”

After a pleasant snack, several members headed downstream in an attempt to turn the right flank of the trout. Mr. Bonavist led Barb and me on a frontal assault on a hefty fish that was gulping small Sulphur duns as the current swept them into his dining area. Mr. Brandt had his eye on this spot, but graciously yielded it to us since Barb and I were only novitiates. Barb could not wade close enough to reach this fellow due to the depth of the flow. After several casts, the fish came to my Sulphur imitation with a splashy rise. I thought I had him but the hook failed to bite. Ah well, is not a hooked fish only a mere distraction to the sheer pleasure of casting a fly with a bamboo rod? At dusk, after at least 20 attempted presentations and a change from a dun to a spinner imitation, Tony succeeded in raising and hooking this fish. A lengthy struggle ensued, the fish leading Tony 30 yards downstream. He became convinced the fish must be foul hooked. After the fish was beached in shallow water, I knelt down to remove the fly. The fly was lodged in a corner of the fish’s mouth. It had not been foul hooked. The taking fly, a spinner pattern, had a reddish brown body, pale dun hackle, clipped on the bottom, tied on a size 16, 1x long-shank hook. Before we left, Tony kindly gave me samples of the dun and spinner patterns he had tied. Aha, Dave Brandt is not the only one in the gang who ties a neat-looking fly.

Interesting companions, bamboo fly rods, brie and beer, can life get any better than this? I need to give a sweeping tip of the cowboy hat to Dave for setting up our reunion with Tony. This then gave us the chance to meet the other fellows, Rod and Jamie. Barb and I certainly intend to show up on future Wednesdays. Maybe next time the Tangler will actually hook a fish.

Now for a revoltin’ development. How could this be? Could a little leaguer strike out Alex Rodriguez? Could Willie Pep have beaten Rocky Marciano? Last week, after fishing several hours, Mark Rando and I were fishless, while Barbara Ann had caught a trout. This nonsense must stop. Good grief, reputations are at stake here. At least Mark and I enjoyed the pizza afterwards.