The Northern California Fly Fishing Board

Hi all,

As many of you know, I travel about the globe in a constant pursuit to discover and battle exotic fishes. My frequent expeditions have taken me to Tierra del Fuego, New Zealand, the Bahamian Flats, and Main in just the last few months alone. I will try to share my National and International fly fishing, and related, experiences with you at least once a month in an effort broaden the realm of your basic No. Cal. Fly Fisherman.

The first installment involves fishing in Iceland.

Late last spring Ms. Mooooooooooodesto and I went on a fly fishing expedition to Iceland. We booked our travel arrangements through Reykjavíkurborg Travel (which loosely translates to "Freeze Your Fanny Off Travel". They can be reached at the following web site: http://www.reykjavik.is.

Anyway, upon arrival in Iceland we directed our attention toward our goal, fishing for the wily and majestic Icelandic Ice! Without a guide, or any other direction, we were left to asking locals where we could find some cool, hard fighting ice. After being beaten about the chest, neck, and head several times, and loosing consciousness therebetween, we decided it was best if we just set out on our own. Hiking out of town, bloody, cold, and dazed, we came upon a gentle soul, who was an ancient fly fishermen. He was very nice and only beat us, about the chest and neck, and didn't use any lead pipes or anything else. He tried to give us some fishing tips, but since Ms. Mooo and I didn't understand Icelandic lingo, we nodded our heads, stole his yak, and headed for the big Ice in the Icelandic Backout (editor's note: the Icelandic peoples wanted to call this area the Icelandic Outback, but were sued for Trademark infringement by the country of Australia and the Outback restaurant chain.)

We headed several kilometers out of Reykjavik (pronounced "Reykjavik"), me pulling the yak, while Ms. Mooo slept thereupon. I drug the yak throughout the night and most of the next day, finally reaching a Taco Bell (who knew?). Upon discovering the Taco Bell and finally meeting some friendly people, we traded M80's for a few Burrito-yak-supremes and some Dr. Yak Pepper.

After eating our fill, I booted a cab, threw Ms. Mooo and the yak in back and went on an ice attack! We headed for the biggest glacier/ice flow we could find, which actually wasn't too hard to find, since the whole place is basically ice anyway.

While the ancient fly fishermen couldn't give us any fishing tips, he did give us some very large hooks, size 25/0, I believe. We began casting frantically as we were virtually freezing to death. No real hook-ups just ice shavings. After about 45 minutes of this, the somewhat dim light bulb over my head went off. I got out my knife and went over to the yak, and lopped off a chunk of fur. I quickly tied a number of yak hair caddis, and we again commenced casting the ice flow. Still our results were about the same, a few nice ice chunks, but nothing really grand, as we had hoped.

I drove back to town in the stole cab, was arrested, spent several hours in jail, posted bail, and continued on to the wharf. I traded my few remaining M80s for the largest hooks I could find and some cabling, then headed back to the glacier. By this time, Ms. Moooo was Ms. Blue and wasn't talking to me. Either she was pissed or frozen. I assumed the latter. Anyway I grabbed the yak, and strapped the hook to its back with the cable. With my 85 wt. 30 ft. rod I cast that huge yak into the flow, made a huge mend, and waited…. nothing….. waited some more…. nothing….. made a huge roll cast, huge mend and again waited… wait….. wait….. then, THERE!!!! ICE ON!! It was a phenomenal chunk of ice, at least 8' long, 3' wide, and 4' thick! It didn't fight hard, but was difficult to bring in, since I was reeling in a yak, ice, and a bunch of other crap. Once I had that big, bad, block O' hard H2O on the edge of the flow, I sawed the yak free from the hook and admired my ice.

C & R ice fishing is not encouraged in Iceland, so we strapped the big, bad, block O' hard H2O to the top of the stolen cab, and returned to town hoping to redeem ourselves. We went to the town square where the town's Eternal Fire burns forever brightly. Wanting to share our magnificent catch with the towns people, we threw the big ice on the fire and called everyone to come join in our celebration. Shortly after throwing the ice on the fire, it promptly melted and doused the Eternal Flame of Reykjavik, whereupon we were again beaten about the chest, neck, and head several times. When Ms. Mooo and I regained consciousness, we realized we were on a plane headed back to the USA, our bodies broken, but our hearts warmed with our memories forever…

International Billy

Frozen Travel