Team Bridgeport 2012

 For 2012, I decided to climb off of the lounge like Tarpons and try out the RTM "disco" as a fishing platform.



I knew that I needed more than just paddling the boat before the Team B-port adventures got rolling or I would be spending a lot of time IN the water and surrounded by friends with cameras.
I needed to pack it full of gear and go fish/multi-task out of it.
My old friend "the Kraken" decided to make the drive up to our place and fish Clear Lake to hopefully check off some boxes on his norcal AOTY card.
The boat had signed me up for swimming lessons a few times already so I made sure my rods were bungied and everything else was in my dry bag except my tackle box, lip screen, and hawg trough that were secured via the cargo net.
Conditions were sunny but windy, so we headed south seeking protection. The boat and I were starting to understand each other and I was was gaining confidence quickly.



We headed over to a point that we had recent intel on. The wind was blasting on the other side of the point and there was some foam gathered at the transition. The rules clearly state "always fish the foam".



The Kraken hooks up and its immediately obvious that this was a solid fish and maybe the pre-spawn hen he has hoping for. As any good team mate would do, I panic, then blast off the line to get close enough for the bendo photo op. The boat rockets into the transition as Im reaching for the camera. The wind catches both me and my oversized paddle blade. The wind waves slam into the soft chined underbelly and then.....silence...time freezes. I know there is no brace, no hip snap, no hope, and in that brief matrix moment I was able to remind myself   "this is going to be really cold".  Then reality re-engaged, and I was swimming. Flipping the boat over and seeing my rods still holstered and dry bag/gear still in the net granted some relief. I started to climb back into the saddle and couldn't help but notice the Kraken with a fatty bass in one hand, camera in the other, and a healthy dose of permagrin.



Notice the tackle box and lip screen that had slipped out from the cargo net?  I didn't.
That hurt. It was my best of box and a healthy kick in the financial balls but hey, its part of the game.
We paddled back to protected waters and documented The Kraken's points.




I was pleasantly surprised how dry I was after the swim.  I was wearing the waders/paddling jacket/PFD combo and I was only wet on my shoulders and neck because my neck seal was open.
It was another lesson learned at disco class and a reminder that this boat demands my respect.

But "the Clear Lady" decided to smile upon her favored son and his loyal companion.
She knew that nothing would warm me up faster than a few full figured gals for me and my friend.







Even with the swim, this was exactly what I needed before the team hit the San Joaquin river. I could only hope it was enough.

The San Joaquin River.
Our first Team B-port event of the season.
We normally like to fish the SJR at about 700cfs.
Last year we were turned away by 6000+cfs but this year, at 1100cfs, it was not ideal but still doable.
The SJR, like all moving water, is very deceptive. None of her hydrology appears super challenging. A nice easy glide that allows you to relax and soak it all in.
At least thats what she wants you to think. This river is a trap for the unaware and takes multiple lives per year. Sure, for seasoned paddlers everything is straight forward and all hazards are easily avoidable, UNTIL you start fishing and shifting your awareness towards anything from line management, trash collecting, and photo ops to just focusing on your presentation. I fearfully and respectfully refer to the SJR as "Strainerville".  We have multiple horror stories of the times that we came close to losing friends on this river and I was hoping that my disco experience would not become another tale around the fire or worse.

 This year, a long time team member we call "Jebediah Tubbs" came up for his first trip down the SJR with us. He is strong like bull and has been paddling since 96 in southern cal salt and high sierra lakes, with even a few creek trips under his belt.
 We warned him about how deceptive the SJR can be and he decided that he would follow our lines and fish with caution. perfect. The POLARCAT was also on board.
He has history on the SJR and has had good success here.



Weather couldn't have been nicer and the water couldn't have been much colder.
A taste of fire on the skin followed by a deep ache that went to the bone.
Even the POLARCAT noticed its edge.



Notice the steel cable hazard stretched across and anchored mid river?
Fortunately we did too.





Having adventured together for the past 19 years it doesnt take us long to fall into our usual rhythm of collecting trash, fishing,and throwing tennis balls we find at each other.
good times.

















again, good times! We laughed so hard I was begging for mercy. a perfect day.
It is how she works.
JT takes the lead on a bending riffle with a VERY fishy eddy on the right.
Who could blame him? He had little trouble with earlier and more challenging areas.
All ops are smooth as JT slides into the moving water. It looked like he was going to eddy out but then the current got a grip on the keel of the T120 and pulled hard on the back of the boat. I could see that JT was having one of those matrix moments. As the nose of the boat started to rise and twist, I could not hold back the permagrin. I was camera in hand.


"TUBBS IS DOWN!"  (click)
JTs athleticism and composure saved him from an expensive swim.
Nothing was tethered at the time and still no gear was lost.
When he knew the boat was no longer his, he twisted off and pushed the boat away while still upright.

 It was so much funnier when it wasn't me ,but still, I knew how bitterly cold he was after that dunking and I tried to contain myself.
The rest of our 9 mile adventure was nothing but side splitting fun.











nothing escapes the long reach of the Kraken



At the end of the trip and first event of 2012...
The POLARCAT proved to be victorious with the largest fish as well as retrieving the best article of debris out of the river, with the infant floatation thing.


Well done old friend. well done.
and I almost forgot..
 Even though there was some more than mild hazing reguarding the name of my current ride.
I didn't swim 

what was the story behind the little bird in the hand?

Thanks for sharing the trip and the great report!

what was the story behind the little bird in the hand?

I always seem to have a strange animal encounter on the river and I don't know why? Anyway, we were about done and I made a cast behind me and I start to reel in, but it feels "funny." There wasn't any resistance? The bird had gotten part of the line in it's wing and was part flying and "running" back to me. When he got close I picked him up and got the line out of his wing (he wasn't hooked at all). At this point he was totally pissed off with me so I set him down on the rod pod, he hopped a couple times and then flew off. Unhappy, but okay.

Nice report Terry. I'm looking forward to your 2012 LCT report.

The Lake County Tour+      The 2nd of our 4 planned adventures for 2012.
Traditionally, this had been a bass hunt on Clear Lake and other smaller Lake county waters.
We later added a striper hunt in Mendocino county and a trip to the coast.
This 8th annual tournament is now based off the same points system as AOTY.
We only fish for a week, trying to pack in as many trips as reasonably possible for dudes in their 40s.
This was a pretty tough year. Winds blasted through and cancelled our coastal plans and even made C-lake a tough paddle at times. When we did find protection the fishing was slow and multiple big fish were lost.
My somewhat somber intro may have something to do with losing one of those big fish at Lake Mendo on our final day.
I still haven't fully recovered.       moment

The day prior, I witnessed my personal best crappie unbutton itself 3 feet from the boat.
Shortly after, we loaded up the truck, pulled out onto the hwy, and headed to our next spot. After we get up to speed and going around a bend, we got to experience all of the shock and wonder that goes with realizing that 2 of our Tarpon 140s are bouncing down the hwy. panic zone!
Fortunately that old WS plastic still holds strong even after 7 years of similar beatings.


             
Even with the challenging conditions, a slow bite and a traffic dodging boat rescue.
We, of course, had a blast.
visuals


















I had just released this cat and SLF and I started off to deploy our agents on the next point.
I hear her call out the bendo and turn around and see that her boat had already turned 90 degrees and is on the move. big fish. The line breaks above the swivel&sinker of the carolina rigged agent. So bummed. Then my heavier duty rod gets hammered and I feel the boat get pulled with immediate drag scream.
I did not see color but everything points to striper and one bigger and more violent than I have experienced. The boat takes an assisted 180 and off we go, taking line and even close to putting me on the rail.  panic zone!
I look back and the Kraken and SLF are in pursuit for the photo op. THIS is IT!!
then...
nothing..
I brought back an empty hook.
I know full well that as long as I play this game, I will have heartbreakers and sometimes double breakers. It still doesnt make it any less painful.
We wonder if it was the same fish.
After regaining some composure I took a swim and washed it all off.
I really wanted that one.



We started a tradition this year where the "Big Winner" takes home a finely crafted banner of victory instead of those cheezy trophies.
Something that will be handed over to the next years "BW" and then the next and beyond.
We wanted art that any of us would want on our wall and we wanted it to be painful to take down if you don't repeat the following year.
Our obvious choice for such a task was PISCEAN and he was "on board" for the project.
We couldn't be more pleased with how it turned out and we look forward to it changing hands for many years to come.
Anyway, it was The Kraken that pulled it off again. Thats 2 wins in 3 years for the big man and I know it will look good on his mantle.
Strong work old friend.

I always seem to have a strange animal encounter on the river and I don't know why?

I havn't figured that one out yet either. Maybe because youve been paddling that stretch for 20+ years, picking up hideous amounts of trash left by fisherfolk, and rescuing the animals that fall victim to various consumer debris. Who knows?  But the river does seem to have a connection to you.

And BTW, happy birthday Scott. Sara and Bijou send big hugs.

Spidey, your trips and the documentation thereof always make me jealous.  Nicely done on all fronts!

-Allen

Spidey does everything in style.  That Disco looks like a squirrely hoot.  Always intrigued by that design.  I fear asking out of fear for hazing, but how does one join this team?

"WILSON!"

Looks like a very fun trip.  I caught a blue winged teal once that swam into my fly line.  Nice job collecting all the trash.

Great pics, nice fish and a whole load of trash out of the waterway. Awesome!

Awesome stuff!  Thanks!

Spidey, your trips and the documentation thereof always make me jealous.

Always happy to return the favor my friend.

That Disco looks like a squirrely hoot.

It wants to go. It wants to go fast and it doesn't want to slow down.
Its similar to paddling a surf ski, where its toughest to stay upright when you are sitting still.
Its a superfun boat, but to fish from it required an almost constant core focus.
You might have noticed that the later photos of the LCT had me back in the lounge.  I really wasn't interested in cat-fishing/swimming at night (in the disco) and it was so nice just to be able to relax and enjoy some kayak opulence again.
Im not giving up on the disco, I just have to get better.

, but how does one join this team?

If you had any real interest in joining "the team" you really would be opening yourself up for some hazing.
serious.




Team Bridgeports roots go back to the mid 90s when a random group of volleyball players met up at a small town in the Eastern Sierras for a creek fishing trip.
Some of us had never even met and none of could have known what a catalyst that trip would be.
A great time was had and during the tales around the fire, it was decided that we should all get together and play in a v-ball tourney. We did just that, left a wake of destruction, and of course we called ourselves
TEAM BRIDGEPORT.
The following year we returned to Bridgeport and have been rolling since.



I think we are fairly welcoming to like minded folks who want to tag along with us.
There would need to be an awareness and tolerance of the fact that someone usually has something to throw and everyone is a potential target. The longer the throw the better. The face or balls are not off limits and if the victim doesn't know who threw it? even better.
Whether we are stomping creeks or paddling a river or lake, someone will always seem to find a floating ball and its game on.

It would also help a new recruit to have a general idea of how to play Magic the Gathering and maybe, just for conversations sake, had played the D&D.





Now are you afraid AJ?

Preparing now for the Bridgeport Classic. In just a few weeks we will be at our place of origin, gathering trash, fishing streams and lakes, and hopefully documenting more great times.
We hope to inspire others to do the same.
 

I am trying to wrap my mind around the numerous juxtapositions here.  Volleyball players owning a tournament and then retiring to a rousing match of Magic The Gathering, a dude chasing a Mirror Pond with a Corona, more dudes huddled amongst D&D maps laid before a coffee table so inherently pimp that it requires consumption of birth control pills prior to viewing it, squirrely boats and voluntary testicular trauma.  Damn.  Mine mind is reeling with respect, admiration, and curiosity.  And here I thought you were just a pack of drunk creek boaters intent on killing kegs of Bridgeport IPA.  Nice follow up reporting, Spidey.

Bridgeport CA
 The Team stayed close to the home waters this year, only hitting 4 local lakes and then spending most of our 8 days there on Robinson Creek. I hope that the photos will show why its so easy to say "Lets do Robinson again!" when we discuss our next adventure. The fishing was steady with a mix of stocker and holdover bows and a few browns. Most fish were caught with either a Panther Martin or the ThommyB.
 Unfortunately we were missing a few of the usual suspects and it stung not having them there, but this was still a year that will contribute to the tales around the fire for many years to come.
One example is the SLF walking up on a black bear in our camp one night and the situation that followed.
Or of the kind elderly gentleman that was standing on the shore next to Jebidiah Tubbs, watching the stocker truck unload into the lake. I was in kayak, 40-50' out, and in possession of the small nerf football that we had been pelting each other with. With JT so mesmerized by the bounty of bows I couldn't help but let it rip. If it wasn't for that gust of wind!
Its probably pretty easy to figure out who got hit in the belly and who got to play the hero and return fire on that jerk in the kayak. Just a few of many from this trip but Ill try and let the photos tell most of our story.
 I thought I would share a few visuals from Bridgeport proper since its such a big part of our experience.
There is no better place to start off than the legendary "Ken's" where we find the owner and our friend Jim Reid. His knowledge and gear selection makes "Ken's" a must stop when fishing the eastern sierra.
 http://www.kenssport.com/


Equally important is a stop at "Rhino's" bar&grill. Great locals and great pizza.
When you order at the bar make sure to notice a familiar moniker.



When its time for Prime Rib and spirits


If we don't get up early to fish its likely you will find us at the Hays street cafe.
Athletic eaters will find this place challenging. Even the innocent sounding "cinnamon roll breakfast" is intimidating.


Fans of the old west and its ghost towns should not miss the short trip to Bodie.




But the Team is most at home camped along Robinson Creek.
This really is where all of the Magic happens.