MANLAW - My new "Swinehart" Inspired Craig Ekin and Nate Steen Collaboration Longbow named "Sagittarius", Commemorative Bob Swinehart

This post will introduce everyone to a very special longbow I was blessed to receive last week upon my return from work travel.

I purchased a heavy 78# Howard Hill Big-Five longbow from a fellow left-handed archer for a good price.  It was identical to my "White Eagle" hunting bow (that I received from the same gentleman) and my thought was to have it reduced to around 65-68 pounds and use it as a workout / training bow.  I had it shipped from the seller directly to Idaho and Nate Steen agreed to rework the bow and reduce it.  There was a crack in the belly glass on the handle fade area that ran lengthwise, and Nate said that shouldn't be a problem.  Halfway through completion Nate informed me that the bow was too good looking to be relegated to a workout bow and that this bow "Needed to Hunt", and if it was ok to reduce her down more. That sounded reasonable. He also asked what I wanted it to be named, and he remembered that I was a Sagittarius.  I told him, "bowyers choice" on the name. 

Nate was able to catch up on some bow shop work after the hunting season, and in late February he sent me a text with a bow tube ready to ship.  I waited...then waited...then Nate asked if the bow had arrived, and I started to get nervous.  By March 15th I was all but resigned that the bow was "lost in the mail".  I was heading to New Orleans for a work trip, and I sent Nate a note that it was still MIA. While I was on travel, my wife texted me that I had a bow arrive!  Whoo-hoo, but now the waiting felt even longer.  

Arriving home to unpack the container, I started to realize what a special bow this really was.  The first thing that struck me was the re-shaped handle making it more in the style of Swinehart as can be seen from the photos below.  The flatter handle section that may have been from the glass running through completely under the handle grip on the models he shot.  

 

Here is the handle before rework, showing the thicker and much more rounded handle:

The second item was the inscribed name, "Sagittarius", that was an obvious reference to the Swinehart book.  Also, I happen to also be a Sagittarius, and I own an older John Schulz made right-handed Tembo by the same name. Some kind of cosmic linkage?

Next, the bow will not sport a side plate, whose lack is customary to Nate's bows as well as what Swinehart shot as seen in the photo below.

The inlay in this case is Alaskan moose that was donated by a fellow longbowman.  I am hoping it will bring some luck of "moose proportions" to my hunting.

The reason I like to go without a side plate is that the bow will give me feedback and "speak" if I have a bad release or form problem.  I need the feedback to improve by listening to what the bow is telling me.

If we compare the bow side-by-side to its brother (both Ekin made Big-Five models) you can see what was done.

Part of the work was a major reduction in draw weight to the tune of 15 pounds.  You can see the belly now has considerable trap and less glass width. 

 

You can also see the thinness of the glass compared to a similar weight and model, and the original that was much heavier, thus changing the wood to glass ratio.

This is a photo of the bow before the reduction and rework:

Nate of course puts on a super glossy and durable finish which I love.  Very classy and I've never spooked an animal that I could attribute to glare, even with the white backed bow I used to own.  You can see there is still a good setback to it unstrung.

Shooting both bows there is a noticeable difference in feel.  These two bows are within 3 pounds of one another, yet to my eye Nate's bow seems faster shooting the same arrow.  There is a different feel upon release I can only attribute to the tiller differences as the limbs return to brace.  There appears to be less vibration and quieter shot.  

Now, looking at the serial number and specs, I'll let Nate describe what he did in his own words, "There was no Big Five model back when Bob hunted,  so I didn't want that model name on the bow, but I wanted a reference to Swinehart's original model...so the Schulz-induced model for Tembo on the specs was "T - ...."   So, I copied that.  T-001.  You have the first Tembo model named Sagittarius, in Schulz's Howard Hill font, built by Ekin and reworked by Steen.  An all around original."

We know a Tembo has only 3 bamboo laminations, but this bow is about more about tribute than anything.  The bow is a unique combination of Ekin and Steen. A "Steekin" made bow.

I plan to take this on many "Safari's" as I hunt with it.

Another Trip for Euro/tight line Nymphing for Trout

I returned from a week-long work travel that had me constantly thinking about going back to try for more of those trout.  Still learning the tight line technique, the conditions this day were a little more challenging. 

Analysis of the stomach contents of a few of the previous trout had me tying up a few lighter colored orangish flies combined with some bead-head midges.

 It was a weekday afternoon, mostly cloudy with an intermittent stiff breeze.  The water exhibited higher and cloudier water clarity.  Still, there were maybe a dozen other fisherman working the area with mostly spin gear, except for a younger fly-fishing gentleman who saw my Delaware Citation patches on the back of my fishing vest and stopped to chat briefly.  He told me he has landed a nice rainbow and used to live in the same town that my 95-year-old grandmother currently resides.  He fished the same creek that ran through my farm property and where I learned to catch trout.  

The breeze made it hard to get much distance in the cast, and really affected the drag on the flies as without heavier flies the line would bow.  It took me awhile to get my first hit.  Trying for a large palomino I saw for a good chunk of time, I ended up with nothing more than a fish scale on my fly hook.  I think it was because I drug it over him instead of a strike.  I moved upstream working systematically into the edge of a deep fast riffle area.  After a sharp tug, I had a good fight on my hands. This was a decent sized brown trout, that I landed without much difficulty.

Soon the bait casters left the 'good area' from the previous outings, and I moved up in.  Fishing this area for about 25 minutes without a strike, I decided to move back downstream feeling a little dejected.  Going back to my starting point, I decided to work the area a little more upstream.  There was a deadfall log in the water across the creek from me that was jammed up against the far shore.  it was a deep shady area and I figured a fish might be in there.  I made a good cast well upstream from the log to give the flies enough time to sink properly.  I wanted it right on the first cast, and figured the line would either get snagged on the log, or I would get a strike.  In text-book fashion, a good-sized rainbow flashed sideways and started a strong run. Switching back, it tumbled end over end in the air making a series of leaps.  I was overjoyed at this combination of events. The cast, the placement under the log, the feel, the strike and landing was all a great memory.  It was akin to the feeling of making that perfect heart shot on a deer at ground level and watching it crash within sight.

Soon, my fishing time was wrapping up as I had been at it for a few hours.  I was happy with my double but really wanted one more fish for a three-person meal.  I figured I would go back down and try around the Palomino again.  I presented a variety of selections, but that fish was having none of it.  When I was about to call it quits, I was midway through a drift, when I felt a bump and I tugged back.  It was another rainbow.  A strong fight ensued, and after the fish was tiring, I had it coming upstream to my net.  This is when disaster almost struck.  The two fish on my chain stringer that were tethered to the bottom loop of my fishing vest were dancing in the flow.  I am still not used to using my fly reel to play a fish (this model has a drag even) so the stripped fly line was inter-twined with the chain stringer.  The fish was pulled right up and swam strongly into this combination of fish, chain, and fly line!  Thin 5X tippet the only connection to the trout required quick thinking. I scooped the entire lot and 3 fish into my landing net and saving the day.  

The rainbow was hooked in the outside of the mouth with the midge.  I had to cut loose both flies in order to untangle my line from the mess.  This was a sign that it was time to call it a day.  

The perspective of this photo is not good making these look like small fish, but each was over a pound to pound and 1/2 size.  Not your typical small, stocked fish type. 

At home I analyzed the stomach contents and found a similar scene, many small midge larvae with a few other types mixed in.  I 'm going to tie up some additional smaller weighted midges.

Revenge of the Broken Rod

 

Free for a few hours Saturday afternoon, I returned to the scene of a very frustrating outing where I spent several hours without a bite and ended up breaking the tip from my rod, despite seeing several nice sized trout.  The state had seen fit to stock this area mid-week, and it was not under the season closure of most other area streams in preparation for opening day.

 

All of this made the place quite busy when I arrived there, and I even spotted a few other fly fisherman in the mix.  From my previous excursion, I knew of a small riffle area to get started that was vacant as I planned to wait and work my way into the “good area” where I had seen several nice fish the last trip.  

 

I took some time in the lot to tie on a point fly consisting of a bead headed midge pattern I had tied, five inches below a bright orange bodied “attractor” fly that was a bead headed stonefly bastard of sorts with a black biot tail. My thoughts were that the bright fly may get a look or two from the freshly stocked trout and the midge might fool some that have been in the river and eating insects a while. 

 

It was maybe my third drift, when I was immediately surprised by several tugs and the sideways flash of red and silver.  It was a decent sized rainbow that immediately leaped clear of the water and strained at the 5X tippet.  I could see the fly fisherman across and a little downstream of me get the attention of his friend and say, “nice fish”.  I fumbled for the landing net centered on my back and struggled to keep calm enough to land it.   Trying to act like this sort of thing happens all the time, I took my time untangling my line and getting him in some photos.  He was a bit football shaped with a boxy worn tail.  The coloration was odd as he was very dark with the only distinct spots discernible on the head and tail, while the rest of the body was dusky and monotone highlighted with a red stripe that was a deeper colored maroon almost.  I wondered how long this guy was in the creek and if perhaps he was changing due to the new diet and environment from the hatchery where he was no doubt raised. 

 

Clipping him to the anchor position on my old zinc patina vintage chain stringer, he accompanied me as I reset and tried to get back into position for some more drifts of this long section.  I spend a dozen or so casts really getting the feel of my 4-inch shorter rod that I had repaired by affixing a spinning replacement eye that I had cut down the supports to lighten the weight with side cutters and epoxied into place.  I was really getting to understand the feeling of the flies bouncing along the river bottom.  How to cast the light line and how much pressure to exert to feel the flies directly under the indicator line.  Then, bang…another fish was on.  this was a smaller typical stocked rainbow about 12-14 inches long.  I could hear the other chap say, “He’s got another”.  I landed this guy like a seasoned expert, and brought him to shore for a few more photos and spent some time getting the two flies untangled from the net.  

 

Curious now, the two fellows from downstream came up to see what I was using.  I insisted it was all just luck and coyly showed them the flies that I had tied myself.  It would seem they were using similar flies, however working them in a more traditional way perhaps. Then again, maybe I was just lucky this day.  I could still feel the sting of the memory of last week in the back of my head.  What was different now? Was it a fluke?

 

I fished that section for a good bit, getting more and more experience with longer casts and control.  I was liking the feel of this method and how you are in direct contact with the flies.  It reminded me of bottom fishing for flounder which I was kind of experienced with.  I was now ready for some different terrain and the two other fly fisherman upstream were starting to close in.  I took my two fish to the tailgate of the truck and unhooked them into the cooler…no use in advertising my success too much. I wasn’t seeing very many other fish being caught. 

 

I regrouped and headed for where I saw a large golden Palomino the other week to see if my luck held.  Another bait fisherman was focused on the tail-water section, and he confirmed with me the big golden rainbow was still there.  I crossed well upstream of him so as not to disturb his chances, and tried for 15 minutes not seeing the yellow beast, nor getting any strike.  I started to doubt that maybe I was just lucky in the other spot.

 

Returning back upstream, I was ready to try out the "good" area.  there was a bait fisherman in the main area, but I was able to set up at the head water of this deep current area and not interfere with her bouncing her neon power bait worms.  

 

Things were slow with no strikes, so I waded out to try a split current upstream when she packed up and left with her gang.  I hurriedly moved in and set up, finally able to get a good upstream cross current drift where I saw the fish last week.  I waded out a bit and my first few casts came up with rock slime on the flies, “good” I thought.  I am in the zone.  Then, I hooked up with another rainbow and landed it.  Shortly had another I missed on the downstream arch.  A lesson I should have remembered about not being in too much of a hurry at the end of the drift.  Then, before long I hooked another.  This one felt strange, and it turned out to be foul hooked.  My guess is he bit on the lead fly and the point fly caught him under the belly when the lead came loose. It was the smallest so far, but now I was only one fish away from my limit of five.  

 

I spent about 30 minutes working that area for that last fish.  I was getting used to this method of nymphing, and wasn’t sure if I would end up with another fish, but it was sure fun enjoying the now mostly empty creek with the evening sun starting to poke around every so often.  I took some photos and a short video to try and show how the indicator was bouncing along.  I was reflecting that maybe the difference between the last week and today had more to do with me rather than with the gear.  I think I was finally getting the hang of the proper feel and presentation to get strikes.  

 

I texted my friend Mike that it was a great day here, and I was one away from my limit during one of the times I was cleaning rock slime off my flies.  Sliding the cell phone back into the breast pocket of the neoprene waders, I turned and made a cast in the same area I had been drifting over and over. When it was three quarters of the way through the drift, my rod was slammed followed by a very large flash of silver.  This was another big rainbow! It pulled sideways and then cleared the water in a lateral leap ending in a deep hollow splash.  The fight was on!  This guy pulled hard as the long fly rod provided needed forgiveness against the frail feeling 5x fluorocarbon tippet the flies were on.  The fish surged upstream, blasting right got into the heavy current.  I was grateful he was tiring himself upstream and I would not have to fight his weight along with the pull of the current to my net.  He tired out and it worked to my advantage as I pulled him into my downstream landing net and raised the wooden ring out of the water signaling success for the fisherman.  

 

Taking him to a large boulder I set the rod down and reflected on the impressiveness of the quarry.  This was a classically colored rainbow with greenish spots all the way down the back with bright silver sides highlighted in that sunburst red side stripe.  The mouth was slightly hook shaped and the tip of the lower jaw rubbed raw, the tail a wide perfect paddle.  He had fallen for the garish bright orange top fly still embedded in his jaw. Snapping a few more photos of him on the stringer with his mates for scale, I absorbed my fortune as he was the last and largest of the day.  Quite a stark contrast to the previous trip to this spot, I had not lost a single fly and this was only the second time I can remember limiting out in Maryland with the fly rod on these stocked creatures.  Today, I think I learned a little and was a tinge proud that I stuck with it through the struggles.  Those struggles that made this day all the sweeter.  The memories will last quite some time, and I think there was more “hooked” than just the fish this day.  

 

While I was preparing them for dinner, I checked out the stomach contents, and three of the five fish had a variety of midges and stoneflies in their gut indicating what they were feeding on that led to my success. 

A Fly-Fishing Trip for Some Stocked Trout - Ends in a Broken Rod

Well, I remembered why I usually revert back to spin fishing before too long!  Sunday, I was able to get away and drive to historic Antietam creek where the state stoked 500 rainbows, brown and golden trout last week.  I know these hatchery fish have never seen a fly before, but I was hoping to fool a couple into biting.  I could immediately see a good sized golden and there are usually several more regular trout around them.  If you look closely in the bridge picture, you can see a gold blob just above the shade line.  I spent an hour or so here practicing my drifts.  I was down into the rocks, so I knew I was deep enough, but no hits and I didn't lose any flies. 

I came to a nice rapid and saw two very large goldens, and started to do some drifts.  I worked them hard, changing flies, working tandem rigs, no hits I could discern.  Then I was hung up on a rock and when it popped loose and my rod flew back behind me and struck a metal handrail snapping the tip.  WOW, now I was hot.  I went back to the truck and grabbed my tenkara rod and fished for another half hour without a bite.  Had some good drifts also....but they were not buying anything I was selling.

I knew I could have caught several with my spinning rig and I knew they were there.  Frustrating.  Anyway, it was a nice day on the water. 

Pheasant and Chukar hunt

I am blessed to have an old college friend that lives nearby and often invites me from time to time to hunt pheasant on a game farm/lodge just outside of Gettysburg, PA.  He also usually donates his birds to me which my family and I always welcome. 

This morning turned out to be an exceptional day for us and the dog "Boomer".  Though I would have preferred a run at these birds with my longbow, it just wasn't an option.  I used my late father's over under 12 gauge along with old paper shells I had inherited to great affect.  The old shells were all still viable and we did ok on the birds ending with 8 chukar and one hen pheasant between the two of us.  

Another old lodge member that was a Vietnam veteran chinook pilot, gifted me 3 more birds at the cleaning sink.  We went out to lunch together, and since I bought his lunch last time, he graciously returned the favor.  It is good to share some of these experiences with those that also love the outdoors and know that there are still solid and good people left in the world.  The sun shined on us in multiple ways this morning.

I plan to save the breasts, perhaps for an upcoming cast iron dutch oven meal on a future fly-fishing campout in a few weeks.  The legs, I will combine with some from another trip that are frozen, and can them for a pot pie maybe at the Baltimore Bowman shoot this year. 

I am going to try to be a little more active on this blog with my adventures this summer. 

Springtime Blessings - reflections and trout

There are times when it is beneficial to stop and smell the roses. Take a breather and take in the here and now as change is always in the wind on this earth.

It is a relatively ordinary seasonable spring day, but I can't help to reflect on the blessings in life.  All too often all we hear are the challenges and darkness.  So here goes while the seas are calm. 

First, I thank the Lord almighty and for being born in this great country and to this great family of mine.  My mother is blessed to be 95 years old and still getting around, and she has my generous sister living with her, so I don't have to worry. I have a lovely wife and wonderful tweenage boy that I am very grateful for.  I had a steadfast father who instilled in me the love of the outdoors, and a gungho brother that challenged me with every accomplishment.  Now, I am an adult with more hobbies and interests than I can keep up with sometimes. 

Today, I had a breather from sitting behind my desk all morning and took my lunch hour at home which I am blessed to work about 10 minutes from.  I greeted the cat and went to my basement and loaded up some new fly line I had received for trying out a little euro nymphing I had been reading up about this spring.  A few weeks ago, during a warm spell the state saw fit to do some pre-season stocking, and I ended up fishing all alone with a few trout in the water.  I landed 3 browns on the old tenkara rod I got many seasons ago for elk hunting trips and caught them on some flies I had tied.  I used some yellow Halo serving as level line and it all seemed to work fairly well. I was tickled.

Now, I am super excited to make some trout fishing trips in addition to my regular campouts.  The fish bug has bitten me hard this year.  I have my eyes on spring trout, the shad run, some catfishing, maybe a try with the bow for stingray, and a saltwater trip or two.  I don't have a gang of close friends, but the ones I contact regularly also seem to be interested in the fishing this year.  Good times are ahead!

This year I have an elk tag in my pocket and fate again has put me into contact with a new friend there that has already helped me with information and map scouting.  Earlier, I had sent my friend and bowyer Nate Steen an older Howard Hill Big-5 to refinish, and that bow should be on the way soon.  

After loading up the fly reel, I grabbed my lighter Northern Mist longbow and a bamboo arrow blunt and took a little walk shooting at stumps in the backyard.  One of those days when you are on and just feel one with the bow.  The set up with fat dacron string was whisper quiet and hitting right where I put it. It all seems to be coming together.  

I look in the mirror these days and see a grey beard looking back at me.  A little grizzled, yet full of the same fire I can remember as a teenage boy myself. The road of life seems to be whizzing by a rapid speed, but I think I may do my best to try to reflect on these times of calm and hope. The times of challenge and storm are never far away.  These things may aid me when the times are tough.  

2024 October Doe - Another of Ellis's Arrows

 

Had a few hours free on evening after work in mid-October.  Grabbing by Back quiver and not bothering to change out of my work clothes, I scrambled up the ladder stand in my back woods just in time to catch prime-time and maybe surprise a cruising buck. 

I relaxed and watched the woods and squirrels prepare for the night and was just about to give up and climb down, when a group of deer started across my front about 50 yards out.  Using the light gathering effectiveness of my ever-present binoculars I could see they were all does.  Again, they passed out of range I was about to give up as darkness reduced visibility to only a dozen yards or so.  Then another large doe came trotting in on a mission.  She was going to pass right under my stand.  Steep angle I drew back to 3/4 draw and things just didn't feel right, so I let down.  As she crossed the trail to my stand, I drew again, and my brain gave me the green light.  Cedar arrow and ace broadhead cleared the bow and I heard the clank of my lower limb against the stand...NO!

My fears were soon relieved as the doe immediately mule kicked, took about 3 big bounds in a semicircle ending in a crash of sliding rocks and breaking saplings just out of sight on the steep hillside.  Then all remained quiet except a cursing squirrel.  The time from the shot to silence was only about 6 seconds or so. Amazing.

Another one of Ellis's arrows did the trick.  These ancient old growth Port Orford cedars still do the job and then some.  The arrow gave its life when the doe kicked to run and the offside shoulder sheared below the fletching as the rest of the arrow was embedded several inches into the dirt.

Where she lay:

Love the close shots, this is my kind of range!