I went back to the site of Apex Trash. I was hoping for another alligator gar– maybe even a bigger one. When I got to the spot, there were gar rolling, and I couldn’t see them while they were near the surface long enough to be sure, but, I hoped they were all alligator gar. After trying to hit them on the head mid-roll several times, I finally stuck one. Well the fish was smaller than my first and I’ve already forgotten its weight, maybe 6 pounds. As you can see looking down the barrel, it’s still got two rows of teeth and that made my day!
OK, two notches on the belt and I’m a PRO-GAR-MAN… or something like that. I kept firing off casts but the water was muddy so it was as much hope fishing as sight fishing. I’d see a gar, flop a cast out, and hope I got the sink rate and direction right so I could guess how far to lead the gar so it would see the fly. I hooked another fish but it turned out to be a 2 pound sandbass. Not exactly what I was looking for.
Back at the truck I ate lunch and broke out the travel fly tying kit– I needed something that would push LOTS of water, and on a sticky wire. Hey, these tarpon hooks ought to do.
I knew by the time I got done lashing together every bit of feather and fur I had that the fly would want to float, so I gave it a serious dose of lead wraps hoping to counter the effect.
There, that ought to do. A Whistler with enough colors to clash like a tie dyed t-shirt. The four or five chicken feathers up front ought to push a little water, too. I just wished I’d thought to put a beer in my fly tying bench.
I tied a trio of these affronts to nature and put them in the fly dryer to air out the head cement while I cleaned up the bucktail and hackle clippings that had accumulated in my truck.
I fished another couple of hours. It’s really a shame, I went fishin for gar– serious fish– and all I ended up catching with my fancy new flies was two pounds of green trash.