Denton Mudbug Boil 2010 Chances are you will be holding an umbrella in your casting hand this weekend, so if you find yourself anywhere near Denton, Texas, make sure you check out the mudbug boil “at 1211 W. Hickory St. behind Riprock’s and Lucky Lou’s, the event benefits several local charities, including Cumberland Presbyterian Children’s Home, Friends of the Family, AIDS Services of North Texas and Mothers of Multiples. Entry-only tickets are $5 and all-you-can-eat tickets are $15″, and according to my findings, this event runs tomorrow, Saturday May 1, from late morning to evening. My advice; come early, stay late and suck the heads!

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The music lineup looks like this:
The Shed (x-Doosu)- 12 pm, Big Daddy Alright- 1 pm, Rtb2- 2 pm, The King Bucks- 3 pm, The Von Ehrics- 4 pm, The Heelers- 5pm, Rodney Parker and the 50 Peso reward- 6pm

What does Stevie Ray have in common with huge bull redfish roaming the Mississippi Delta you may ask? They really didn’t know each other, but it appears they have something in common with me.

Another winter just passed, another winter where the bulls ran and I wasn’t there to experience the magic of what have been reported by others to be very big, very dumb redfish. Now with a black cloud of crude headed straight for that fishery, that opportunity never taken looms as large as another I missed so many years ago.

Stevie Ray Vaughan entered my consciousness when he did Bowie’s “Let’s Dance”, and then decided to forego a tour with Bowie to support his own rising star. And rise it did. Fast forward a few years, a few cocaine laced whiskeys, and Stevie came out the other end clean and working. The appearance of a shooting star, was replaced simply by a star. He seemed to be here for the long haul.

So, when I had countless opportunities to see Stevie, I thought to myself “He’s here to stay. He’ll be here a long time.” I’ll never forget where I was and what was said on the radio (yes radio RADIO) when word of the helicopter crash, at Alpine Valley, reached me in my car driving to an assignment between San Diego and Escondido, California.

The DJ’s were so relieved it wasn’t Clapton on the helicopter… morbidly relieved. Then word came that it was Stevie. It was pretty obvious the west coast had no idea what just happened, because all they could do is concentrate on the survivors. All I could think is that I had all these chances to see Stevie – free at the Band Shell, clubs, opening, headliner and every other way imaginable. Then, all possibilities were taken away forever.

As the crude cloud approaches the Delta that same feeling of opportunity missed and lost looms large. Some of us may even be relieved that it’s not happening to us, our coastal fishery or Florida. I am even guessing that some of the “Drill Babies” among us are suffering from very conflicted emotions right now. We gotta’ have gas for the boat, but at what cost?

If experience serves (hurricane chasing), the media is massing in the Delta right now, booking guides, and boats, buying boots and waders, and getting ready to descend en masse on the Delta from every conceivable direction. It is Louisiana, so I am also guessing there is some serious price gouging for the aforementioned goods and services as well.

We can only hope the area recovers quickly from a spill that, according to reports, continues to pour 42-thousand gallons of crude into the water daily. Imagine that – 42-thousand gallons! I am no math person, but this still does not seem to have the potential of the Exxon Valdez spill. Rough calculations say it would take more than 250 days to reach that level – as far as number of gallons spilled.

Clifford Hilbert saves the day with a beautiful 6.5 (notice the Boga) pound largemouth bass today.

I got skunked! I hate when that happens!
On the way to getting skunked, let me throw out all the excuses I can come up with:
1) It was windy, crazy windy
2) Standing up in my Native Ultimate, did I mention it was windy – like from every direction
3) I had never been to this location before – heard about it though
4) Even though I needed the heavy rod to cut the wind – an eight weight?
5) What flies did you say were working
6) A cool front came through yesterday
7) I brought a camera, a tape measure and a Boga – each equal to bringing bananas on a boat

I saw a familiar pair of shoes on the shoreline when I launched my Native at the Sunday location. That coupled with the LSU sticker on the pickup with the tailgate down … it had to be Clifford Hilbert.

I made my way out into the pond and was immediately struck by the clarity and huge amount of hydrilla. Large areas are already showing signs of shallowing up to the point of being impossible to fish. In a couple of weeks the hydrilla will probably close in even further making the pond about one-third the surface it is now.

I finally caught up with Clifford way back in one of the upper reaches of the pond, and he already had a massive stringer of panfish and a couple of very nice crappie to top it off. I followed his advice and began working the sheer shorelines and holes along the narrow area, and he volunteered his spot to me. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I thought I was useless today.

He gave me some space, and worked his way down about 25 yards, still working a tiny fly for panfish along the edge of the hydrilla where it falls off to deeper water.

Suddenly I heard, “Whoa! That’s a nice fish!”, and just as I turned to look I saw a largemouth clear water, and go head first back straight down. Clifford had a hold of a nice fish, and I was close, so I pulled in everything – line and anchor – and cleared the deck. Clifford was in what I call “negotiations” with this fish, because a size 12 fly and a three weight leave little room for error or stiff arm tactics. All she would have to do is bury herself in the hydrilla and it would be all over. She turned for the deeper water, and spun Clifford and his paddle boat for a half turn. Advantage Clifford. Rod bent in a perfect U, he kept the pressure on, and she finally tired and surfaced where Clifford lipped her and held on for dear life.

It really doesn’t matter where you are, in Texas a 6.5 pound largemouth bass is respectable, very respectable. We floated around each other taking pictures and admiring the fish. A bass that size has certain characteristics that take over; bugged out eyes, a NASCAR beer gut, and a mouth that would fit a clear quart bottle of Miller High Life – no problem. Just beautiful.

Thanks Clifford, for keeping today from being a total stinker. For those of you who want to know more about the spot, be sure to check out “The Fray” under the thread “HOTSPOTTING“. There are conditions for seeing the thread, but don’t you think it’s time to get on board?