All hail the (once) mighty carp

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buy this photo Mark Boname of Casper admires a carp he caught in Pathfinder Reservoir.

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  • All hail the (once) mighty carp
  • All hail the (once) mighty carp
  • All hail the (once) mighty carp

Story and photos by WES SMALLING

Star-Tribune outdoors editor

PATHFINDER RESERVOIR - Funny looks. Double takes. Confused questions like, "You're doing what?"

Mark Boname is a fly-fisherman who gets that a lot.

The long-time trout fishing guide of the North Platte River has discovered a new obsession: carp fishing.

In the summer months he's often seen cruising the shallows of Pathfinder and Alcova reservoirs in his flats boat in search of the ugly fish that gets no respect.

"I don't even fish the river anymore," Boname says, casting a fly from the bow of his boat toward a "sleeper," which is a carp resting against a submerged rock.

The fly sinks a few inches from the carp's nose. Boname gives the fly a twitch and the fish turns, takes a bite and the fight is on. The fish thrashes on the surface, dives below the boat and puts up a surprisingly feisty battle.

Most of the fun of carp fishing is getting the fish to take the fly, he explains as he removes the hook from the homely looking fish's gaping yellow mouth. He holds up the big carp, admiring how its golden scales shimmer in the sunlight.

Beauty is definitely in the eye of the beholder.

Once hooked, carp aren't acrobatic leapers like rainbow trout, so the fight usually isn't too dramatic, he says. But a big carp is strong enough to snap off your fly. Many of the carp in Pathfinder and Alcova weigh more than 10 pounds. Some tip the scales at more than 20 pounds.

He tosses the fish back in the water, an act that would make any walleye fisherman cringe. Carp are a foreign species, imported from Asia via Europe a long time ago. They can wreak havoc on aquatic habitat and will eat the eggs of other fish, such as walleye and trout, that are much more prized by anglers.

Carp are usually thought of as a "trash fish." You'll often see dead carp rotting on the banks of a stream or the shore of a lake after they were tossed there and left to die by a trout or walleye angler who unintentionally caught the unwanted fish.

Years ago, when Boname was a trout guy, he too didn't think much of a carp.

"My first big carp I hooked in the Platte from a float tube and it was pulling me up the river," he says. "I was like everybody else, disappointed that it was just a carp. Now I look back and it was one of the best fights of my life."

While Boname would not advocate protecting carp or stocking them in additional waters, he says as long as they're in a lake and can't be removed, you might as well fish for them. They're a challenge to catch and they can get very, very big.

There was a time when carp were the most highly regarded fish by American anglers, he says.

"The first carp that were brought to the Thirteen Colonies from Europe were put in a couple ponds that were kept watch over by armed guards. That's how revered they were as a sportfish."

The lowly carp probably got the reputation of being a trash fish because people became used to seeing them in mucky, polluted water.

It's a bad rap, he says.

"That just means they're tough. They survive in places other fish can't."

Boname admits he gets some enjoyment from the weird looks he gets from anglers on nearby boats who see him happily reeling in carp after carp. One day as he was push-poling his boat through the flats at Pathfinder he drew the attention of a couple of game wardens who sped over to investigate what he was up to.

"What are you doing?" one of the wardens asked from their boat.

"Fishing for carp."

"Oh," the warden said, a confused look on his face. "Um … OK."

"That was pretty funny," Boname says with a chuckle. "And it's kind of funny to see the walleye guys reacting too."

Boname fires up the boat's engine and races over to a secluded cove on the west end of Pathfinder, a spot too shallow for most boats. Long blades of grass grow from submerged sand bars, sticking out of the water, giving the place a swampy beach look similar to the salt flats of the Gulf of Mexico.

"It's no different from Florida right here," he says, cutting the boat's engine and hopping up on the boat's platform. From there he uses a long push-pole to nudge the boat along, slowly and quietly, to sneak up on a pod of dozens of carp that are foraging for food in the clear shallows.

Sight-fishing is the fly-fishing tactic of stalking each individual fish. It requires a nearly perfect cast, usually a long one that lands the fly close enough to the fish to get its attention but not so close you spook it. Sight-fishing for carp is just like going after bonefish and redfish with a fly in the salt flats of Texas and Florida or at more exotic destinations such as the Yucatan and Belize, he says.

Many of Boname's clients who book guided trips with him for carp are practicing for an upcoming saltwater fly-fishing trip.

"This is exactly what they will be doing," he says.

A well placed cast will usually get a carp to take a strike at your fly, but not always. They can be fussy and will scatter if an errant cast splashes on the surface, so they'll put any fly angler's casting skills to the test. Fly-fishing for carp is addictive, especially stalking and casting to individual fish when sight-fishing.

"They get no respect. I actually think they're smarter than trout," Boname says. "After catching huge fish like this all day, why would you go trout fishing? Forget the river."

Join the club, book a trip

Although Mark Boname is serious about giving carp some props as real sportfish - serious enough to retire from guiding trout fishing trips - a lot of his enthusiasm for carp fishing is tongue-and-cheek.

He and some friends founded the faux conservation group Carp Unlimited some years ago while having a few beers at a bar. Membership dues were 25 cents. Carp Unlimited bumper stickers and hats are for sale at the Platte River Fly Shop, the fishing store Boname has operated in Casper since 1994.

Don't be a trout snob. Give carp a chance.

Boname leads full-day guided trips for carp at Pathfinder and Alcova reservoirs for $400 for one or two anglers. To book a trip, call the Platte River Fly Shop at 237-5997 or toll-free at 1-866-548-FISH (3474), or go online to www.wyomingflyfishing.com. Fly-fishing for carp is great practice for anglers getting ready for a saltwater trip, he says.

The shop's guide service also books fly-fishing trips for trout on the famous Gray Reef of the North Platte River, but you won't catch Boname on the river these days. He's a full-time carp man.

Although Mark Boname is serious about giving carp some props as real sportfish - serious enough to retire from guiding trout fishing trips - a lot of his enthusiasm for carp fishing is tongue-and-cheek.

He and some friends founded the faux conservation group Carp Unlimited some years ago while having a few beers at a bar. Membership dues were 25 cents. Carp Unlimited bumper stickers and hats are for sale at the Platte River Fly Shop, the fishing store Boname has operated in Casper since 1994.

Don't be a trout snob. Give carp a chance.

Boname leads full-day guided trips for carp at Pathfinder and Alcova reservoirs for $400 for one or two anglers. To book a trip, call the Platte River Fly Shop at 237-5997 or toll-free at 1-866-548-FISH (3474), or go online to www.wyomingflyfishing.com. Fly-fishing for carp is great practice for anglers getting ready for a saltwater trip, he says.

The shop's guide service also books fly-fishing trips for trout on the famous�Gray Reef of the North Platte River, but you won't catch Boname on the river these days. He's a full-time carp man. ]]->

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