A Carp Addict Named Dagur

by

Dagur Árni Gudmundsson

When I go to sleep, my thoughts tend to go to a specific image; of shallow water, an active tail, a mud plume, and that feeling of simultaneous intense adrenaline and total peace right before I present the fly.

At a moment like that, there’s nothing in the world that seems to exist except you and the fish.

When I wake up from dreams about tailing carp in the shallows, I pack my bags, head into the car, and drive to one of my favorite lakes to chase these golden ghosts.

Carp are still strangely looked down upon as a target for fly anglers, even though we’ve come a long way in the past two decades, there’s still a general “ew it’s a carp” vibe among a lot of people in the fly fishing community. Which is really only too bad for those people missing out, as these fish are smart, largest brains in freshwater fish species, and extremely strong, often dragging all of your line, and all of your backing out into the horizon, often in the extreme chaos following the hook-set.

I never get tired of taking newcomers to the carpin’ game out onto my local flats, people who are often quite skeptical of the whole idea of carp on the fly to begin with, and it only takes seeing one fish feeding, not even hooked, just feeding, to get them to fall into the rabbit hole that is chasing the golden ghost.

It doesn’t hurt that my local flats are quite awesome to begin with, as many of my favorite haunts are tucked away in the rolling hills of the California Central Coast mountain ranges.

As you drive up through green hills, oak forests, and wide open ranches, you also pass some great spots to drop your significant other off at, such as the endless wineries tucked away in the countryside, or nationally renowned craft breweries, while you head off in search of the drug of the carp.

One of my favorite lakes has all sorts of structure and environments that harbor carp, everything from deep creek channels that have awesome wintertime dry fly fishing, to flooded brush flats, white sand beaches, and even a river that flows into the lake making for some awesome clear water flats with current where it enters the lake. The water levels fluctuate wildly year from year, a byproduct of the California bureaucratic mismanagement of the water, but let’s not get too into that.. But the side effect of the water fluctuations means that every year is basically a new learning experience, finding viable flats that sometimes disappear in as little as a month.

One year I had some awesome gravel reefs, big points that would reach way out into the lake spotted with deep holes, and big flats of clear water between them. This year I have access to some previously inaccessible white sand beaches and flats, making for some insane sight fishing opportunities. It’s quite fun and frustrating to see the water change so much, just like the fish I am after, which are also fun, and sometimes very frustrating!

My area has year round carp fishing, in the winter you can find fish feeding on midges, scum and even beetles on the surface suspended over deep water. Makes for some technical dry fly fishing when most everything else is down deep. In the spring, we have the classic groups of fish moving onto shallow flats starting early march, and from then on each day can be a good mix of dry fly fishing in the mornings, and tailing fish on the flats in the afternoon.

Early season usually consists of a good average size of fish, while from mid-April the smaller fish start showing up, and mid-May through June is usually the best time for numbers, with exceptional days of 40-50 fish per angler possible as the fish line up on gravel bars and flooded vegetation, but is entirely dependent on the mood of the fish. Once the nights start getting colder again in the fall, mid to late September, the fish again move onto the flats, and a good mix of tailing and dry fly fish can be had, but this is a much more technical time to be out and about, and the fish are usually tough to catch, but well worth the trouble, as some good sized fish can be had on dry flies this time of the year.

The Central Coast of California is a fantastic area to chase the golden ghost, the weather is perpetually perfect, the scenery beautiful, and fish of all sizes work the flats and the surface film. I find no greater peace than when stalking these elegantly brutish fish that inhabit the shallow waters of my area, and I love sharing that passion with other anglers, and seeing how that addiction to chasing carp on the fly gets ignited, whether that’s from the first fish they see, or when they watch their line disappear into the horizon when it all goes according to plan.

My name is Dagur, and I’m a carp addict.