Spring is in the Air

Even if you live in a state with a year round open season, "Opening Day" has a magic about it, fueled by short days & long winter nights, topped with anticipation of good things to come. Today was in the 60's here and the air felt like it does 3 weeks into the season.  We had less than an inch of rain during the entire month of March which is all good until you realize that despite the fine weather today, the rains will come and the water will get murky and you really won't see much activity other than 20 x as many guys on the water as you will see in a few weeks from now.

The best opening days are spent fishing slow & deep (actually the best are enjoyed by the bait boys). On low clear water i tend toward a small black stone fly which is good for the first week or two, or you can always go with a bead head or a bugger. If the water is high, but you might want to steer clear of fast or deep water until you get your legs back even if you work out in the off season (which i really don't).

The last few years i have spent a lot more time watching the water and the other guys than fishing, it seems to be more productive and is even starting to be fun. I have taken a few dips early in the year and while not as scary as a fall or winter splash, you tend to be less able to get yourself out of trouble.

4 years ago i was on a local river that i very much enjoy though it does not have a good reputation. What it does have is several remote sections away from the road which generally provides some peace and quiet and a few holding impoundments a long walk from the road. I enter at one of the most trafficked spots (looking for easy stockers and a short walk). Well sometimes knowing a river too well is a dangerous thing and i misjudged the water level (high), the current speed (fast) and lost my footing near a very large old growth tree with a root ball that extended in to the water to create a great scour.

I was wading strongly and thought i had things under control, until i hit the scour, the water went from 3' to over the wader tops in a heartbeat the current quickened as the lip of the scour broke away. It was the first time i would go floating (w/o a boat). the depth of the scour grew to several feet below my submerged 6' and i felt danger for the first time, so i swung my feet to the downstream side and angled for land paddling frantically as i went. Between the low temperature 40' and the effort (try it some time) i quickly grew tired and just barely managed to reach some brush along the bank  to catch my breath. Just below this spot was what looked to be an easy take out, a tree with its roots cascading into steps leading into and hopefully out of the water. As it turned out the depth was at least a foot below my reach and as i hung on i found rather than getting rested i was growing more tired and shorter of breath. It might have been the cold or that i was now genuinely scared. In any case i know i would have to make one lunge for the roots and pull out.

Once on land it occurred to me that this was a close call, my heart should have been pounding (it was not), and now that I was out, i had a good story to tell. Today i am much more aware of my footing, of breaking loose and of the consequences. Not because i care about my life (which i do) and not even because i care about my family (which i do) but really just to get those few extra days unhurt to spend them fishing. To see nature and immerse your self in it is amazing especially when the car is just down the road.

So set your priorities, enjoy opening day, oh yeah and be courteous, to the old guys who came before us, the new guys who don't have a clue, the kids, dogs and other realities of life.

Wooly Buggers and the Night Train

The first fly i regularly caught fish with was the Wooly Bugger. It can be used as a streamer, nymph, terrestrial or a leach or just about anything else you can think of. It all depends on how you fish it... you can swing down and across, or slap it just above the tail of a pool, hit the far side of the river, why you can even drag it behind your sorry butt as you wade out of the water and the fish will basically nail this fly often hooking them selves. All in all this is the fly to fish before you get discouraged and quit fishing, but once you get good at this game some how it seems too easy, it is kind of like using bait. I am not against bait per say, but i like a little more challenge in my fun (typical NYer) i can't just enjoy my fun unless i need to work for it. Also i really get pissed off seeing your blue bait Tupperware containers all along rivers.

I mostly quit fishing Buggers about 3 years ago and now only fish them when the need arises, like when it has been raining for 3 days in a row and the river is so swollen that you need to put your waders on before you exit the truck. Or when i come across a really deep pool and nothing else works or when you've gone a day with out even a bump.

There is one time they are a good go to fly on warmer water when you hit a section of small mouths i guess they are fun to pound into the weeds or when the small mouths are taking crayfish off the bottom and you drag one along back words. Ok so I guess they are good files that work and I should fish them more than I do.

There was this one time on a local river that has a very deep hole in a regular deep pool, i had fished it many times but never had a bite. One night i stayed on the water long after dark and fished from the odd side (the one no one ever fished from) i weighted and sunk a large bugger down across and into the hole. I thought my fly was hung up at first, perhaps I was hooked on an underwater stump and my line dragged. I figured i had lost the fly at least when it suddenly pulled diagonally back and across (confirming the tree branch theory). In any case this was not a fish as there was no jump or panic or side to side pull it was just hard and away. Since the fly was lost i flexed the rod to one side and tried to turn the tree (it was dark and no one could see me making a fool of my self). the branch yielded although the pull was still all that my 4x could take.

In fact i had just hooked a south bound train that was pulling out of the station. Although i had read about them I really did not believe in, nor had never felt the Night Train before. Basically it is a Bass which has the weight and strength to say "NO" i will not move, i will not fight, you can not real me in with that wispy little fly rod.

After several minutes of this the hook seemed to pull free and the line came in easy, it then pulled right, a quick left and up and out of the water came my fish. It was a 4 or 5lb Bass, a beast which scared the hell out of me. At first in the dim moon light i could not tell it was a bass and thought it might be a pickerel or some other snaggletooth demon of the deep (plus i am just generally scared of the dark) and this was before head lights so i flicked my Bic and beheld a good bass thumbed his lower lip and held up a decent football sized fish.

I guess it is true what they say "they only come out at night".  If you can, it is a good time to be out but be careful your family wants you to come home.

3 Wt's are Fun

My friends all fish a 5 or a 6wt rods, generally they are 9' and i guess if you are on big water, after big fish or are throwing 60' of line this makes sense. But this seems like a lot or rod for a 12-16" fish which is where I spend much of my time. Lately i am in search of quite / small water; typically this means a 3wt either my 8.4 for open small water where casting is easy although not generally requiring more than 30' or so. I also have a 3 wt 5' J.P. Ross that i love for small, tight "cripple creek water".

I call anything where tree branches scratch both cheeks as you move up stream a cripple creek. At the head or tail of most any pool you can simply step over a few rocks and move from one bank to the fide side. Generally there is nothing more than an 8 or 9" fish in these waters. In here you can go a whole day without ever seeing another person. I think this has more meaning to someone like me who works with 50 folks a day and literally passed through 10s of thousands every day. I enjoy going a whole day with out a word or the necessities of polite conversation and while a 7" rainbow or brookie might not be worth mentioning at the club (or in print) it sure has made for fond memories. Besides with all the snakes, bears, deer, beaver, otters, bats, not to mention the chipmunks, and frogs i have had more than my fair share of heart racing excitement.

One reason to choose a lighter weight rod is that a 8" fish on a 3 wt = a 15" on a 5 wt or a 18" on a 6 wt and if it is all relative than i guess i am doing ok. Also most places i fish do not have a trail or even a rough fisherman's path, i spend entire days bushwhacking through some rough stuff and a bigger rod either gets in the way, breaks or needs to be broken down (which i only do at the end of the day and not even then sometimes). Lastly i love to be able to "clear" the tip while holding the butt and you just can't do that on a 7 or 9' rod.

It is true you can't cast far with a 5' rod, but far is also a relative thing. When most pools are a few feet to 10' across far can be the leader or the leader + a few feet of line. It is more a game of flipping than casting and stealth trumps a smooth stroke. The most successful folks are just trying to stay out of the trees.

Ok so what can't it do? Well you can forget about hi-sticking (nymphing) unless you are atop a rock overhanging the water and if you can shimmy up there without your rod or reel or some jinglingobject from your vest clinking against the rock and spoiling the pool you’re a better man than me. What else? Well when you do hit the 30' + pool you can't roll cast to the tongue (that is even if you could chain saw a path behind you for the back cast to unroll in).

Aside from these 2 things i think i will stick with my shortie stick for small water and pack the 5 wt just in case i find big open water.

White Tarantula

I once read that first we dream of a trout on a fly. Next a dry fly, then several in a outing. You know where it goes from there, a hard fish, several hard fish, a large fish, several large and difficult fish, finally it is not really about the fish. Ok but this is getting ahead of the story. My first dream size was 19", because i had regularly taken fish in the 12-16" range and on good water taken fish in the 16-18" range. Also this was shy of 20" which at the time seemed impossible in the east. Finally if i ever did get a 19" i might actually beat it. If i started with 20" and got one, i might never exceed that and in general i think it is a good idea to set some goals that you can reach and even some that you can beat.

After a few years and a hundred+ fishless daze you tend to either get this down to a few flies and drifts that work or you just quit. If you are like me you can't quit b/c it is not in you and even a zero day is a fun day if you approach it right.

 I got up very early one day, hit the best river in the state and fish all the right flies. I worked my way down stream to one of the best pools. I fished both the head and tail  with nada to show after 3+ hours. I took a break to rest the pool and i noticed the biggest fish in the river. My dream fish was lazily rising in a rhythmic pace on the far side in a channel which funneled into a single drift below a riffle (an ideal lie). I waded into position just below the fish and to the side. I tied on a #14 dry that looked right and cast up and over the fish into the lane. It drifted over the fish, he rose (this was too easy), he drifted back for a few feet (something he had not previously done) after an eternity he passed on the fly and returned to his lie to await the next morsel. I retrieved the fly and examined it closely for defect, dried it and cast again. The same result except the fish only drifted back a foot before the rejection. Despite repeated cast i could not interest him again nor did my flailing the water put him down.

I stopped for a while and thought about the most likely issues (based on what everyone said and wrote). I added 7x to my tippet and changed flies to a smaller one that seemed right. Throughout the fish continued to rise and feed. I took a deep breath and cast again into the lane and a few feet up from the fish. Perfect the fish rose and drifted back, as he did it occurred to me he was not going to take it, before he actually rejected it 3 feet down river. It was at this point i felt certain this Trout truly had magical powers, that he was smart and could tell the difference. So i tied on a even smaller fly b/c surely 8x could not hold such a fish (also I did not have 8x). Nada, fly after fly until i had exhausted even my smallest BWO flies.

I went back to the bank and searched my box (es). Frustrated i lit a cigar and slowed down, the fish continued to rise. How many perfect casts could I make? How much could he eat? How long could this go on???

In a final bit of frustration i tied on a large White Tarantula, although i do not recall buying such a beast or how it came to be in my box it just seemed to be the wrong fly for this hot summer day when fish were gorging on the smallest of flies. I made 2 mistakes first I failed to cut back the leader enough for this massive (by comparison) fly to balance it and second forget to false cast it before getting back into position. Simply put you cannot cast a #6 the same way you cast a light dry #18 or 20.

Even though i used exactly the same stroke as on the last 50 casts, the result was not the same. I over shot the feeding lane by several feet, hitting the far bank, this should have spoiled the pool & day. In frustrated agony I yanked the fly off the bank; it plopped within 18” of the great fish, who turned with startled apprehension. Instead of fleeing he moved for the fly. I now became the startled prey. I hurriedly yanked the fly away in short jerks and was in fact able to get out of there with out getting caught. I soon realized what I had done and laughed. I quickly reset and again landed the fly on the beach only this time I was ready, I yanked the fly into the water and gave several follow up jerks the fish pounced like a great cat on a mole, and “got me”, err umm, I got him.

The fish gave a great fight, or so it seemed on a 3 wt, but did not jump and after a long while i was able to bring him to hand. The first thing I noticed was he was hard bodied, unlike any rainbow or trout before and most since. The fish had a great kipe which is also unusual for a rainbow this size, it seemed out of place for the usually smaller mouthed rainbows so i figured him to be very old. I taped it out to 19 ½” and was tempted to keep him but thought he earned an extra day (at least) a stream.  

So set a goal, reach and exceed your reach and when "what should work" doesn’t, sometimes you just have to go a different way.

Known Pockets

I love that i remember almost every productive pocket that i have fished. The problem is that I remember most every one i have fished. So why is this a problem, b/c when you return to a piece of water and are having no luck, or if other spots are not producing, you tend to remember where you took a good fish and return to the past productive pocket or hole.

Is a fish from the same hole next week or next month or even years later as interesting as a new fish from a new spot?

Or is this why we fish home waters?

BWO's

I could never understand how such a small a fly could catch a fish, let alone a big fish. Or for that matter why they would even bother to eat something that small? Then if you actually caught one how would a point the width of 4 sheets of paper hold when even the largest hooks pull out? I tried to draw a parallel to my eating habits as I am the only entity I am familiar with. I thought about what i eat. Sure I like a steak as much as the next guy, this does not mean I would pass up Ikura, I even eat them one at a time, sometimes. I am not certain how many it would take to fill me up, but I don’t think it could be done.

 

So getting back to the fish I can see if BWO’s are tasty and plentiful than sure, why wouldn’t a fish go for it. This still left the question about how the hook would hold or even be able to gain a purchase in the lip. I decided to leave that question until I caught one, believing John and A.K. and Nick would not steer me wrong…

 

I was on the 4675; the day was grey and cloudy, with a temperature in the mid 40’s, in other words a nice day to be on the river.  As i rounded a sloping bend, a slow flat slick presented itself. The water was dimpled by some gentle rain, but there were rises all over the pool. From the distance I could not make out what they were coming up for. Moving closer and over to the bank it appeared that miniature sail boats were drifting in a linier regatta. In one section they looked like they were being shot from an unseen underwater canon in a procession with military precision. The regularity of the rises popping out of the meniscus to the surface and the absolutely linier parade of these miniature soldiers seemed completely out of character for nature which tends to favor organic random patterns.

 

There were about a dozen or so fish and 2 very different styles of rise. The first were splashy and energetic, I later discovered (thanks to catching some) they were the small fish expelling bursts of energy and capturing few flies. The second was more interesting; an almost indiscernible nose would rise through the meniscus, once there it would magically, leisurely suspend and capture several BWO before its decent a model of adult efficiency. The next step seemed easy enough to count the time between the rises, wait & cast upstream directly upstream a rising fish and wait. Timing is harder than it looks sometimes so I moved to the splashier rises as they seemed easier to cast to and catch. 

 

After a few successful catches I wanted to try something I had read about a 20/20 which is catching a 20” + fish on #20 or smaller hook. Now it is always a better idea to try new things like this after catching a few. Catching a few is good for your confidence and if it does not work out well you still caught a few and had a good time.

 

I tied on the smallest hook I had # 24 and by now I had 2 things going, first after adding and clipping tippet all day my line was balanced (this was an accident and something I rarely get right) and second I now had the rhythm going. So I picked out one of the gentlest rises (in the past I would have been sure this was the smallest fish in the pool but now I knew better). I lined up where a miniature cannon, was firing fresh hatched flies to a certain & unfortunate end.  I made a quick false cast and then fired my BWO into the procession line with only a hope it dented the surface in a similar way to the real batius. As the other sailboats made their gentle path to the shallow depression I held my breath as the fish took his. Then came the hardest part I have ever experienced, I was actually in the fish but could not tighten the line or strike as the cavity was still open, the fish was gorging himself.

 

Eventually he either need a drink to wash down all the flies or to breath water or was just so full of files that he sunk. I lifted my rod and was fast to a fine fish. I love that expression “fast to a fine fish”. In October it takes on extra meaning as fall trout are able to pull like summer night bass on to light tackle that won’t be reeled in or freight trains. The water temperature coupled with oxygen levels imbibe thefish with energy rarely seen at other times of the year.  I knew he was a good fish but now the challenge was to reel him in before the hook pulled out. As he stripped off the line it occurred to me that the few fish I had earlier lost were not due to the hook size but rather sometimes you just lose fish, hey it happens. Wetting my hands in preparation I brought him in, and held a fine brown trout. He taped out to 21 ¼ not the biggest fish ever but it certainly gained me entry into the 20/20 club. 

 

It is good to have goals, now I have a new goal the 24/24 club, a 2’ + fish on a #24 or smaller hook. I don’t really care if I ever get there but it is good to extend your self, to reach, learn and grow. Perhaps I should try going the other way as well, but I am not sure how a #4 hook is going to catch a 4” fish…

Head & Tail Rise

The parking lot is only 20 or so feet from the river which seemed real appealing at the time, but fishing here starts with a rappel off a 40 cliff to the water below. When the water is this “far” away you tend to have to get everything you will need for the day together, before you head to the water. Due to my failing sight, magnifiers were my first thought (the rest I could improvise) and one by one all the usual suspects were stored in my vest. Sunglasses, cigars, lighter, clippers, flies, tippet, extra leader, floatent, non-toxic shot, extra large straw hat to shade me, water to drink and of course my vest with rain gear in the back pocket.

 

I found some anchors to set up on and proceeded on my trip down to the water's edge. At the bottom I stowed my gear and set out on the water. The tail glided into the fast pocket water just before the river precipitated into the canyon below. Above the drop it is easy enough to wade out into the center (I planned to fish the edges). As I made my way I noticed a classic “head & tail rise”. This was a big fish feeling very secure in a covered cave like situation below some big rocks as the tails drop off. In the past I might have gone straight for this fish due to its size and my uncertainty but spending a lot of time on the water over the last 6 years I made a note of the location and figured that later, I would just fish down there and get him rather than spoil the pool in hopes of this one fish.

 

This turned out to have been a good choice. The tail had over 50 fish rising and I had a pocket full of BWOs. Personally I don’t think size or color matters as quite as much as some folks say, and I can not cast very well, but I can read float lines, calculate rise rhythms and drift my flies with out any noticeable drag. On this day I took fish after fish to the point of absurdity, mostly they were small (12-16", and a rainbow the highlight that topped out at 19") but this is not a story about how many fish. It is about a “Head & Tail Rise”.

 

The rain started slowly at first, so I reached for my trusty rain gear in the back of my vest. For some reasonI could not get my hand far enough down so I moved to the bank and had to take off my vest, it was then I realized I had no rain gear in my vest. Faced with only 2 choices, the smart one to get out of there and back up to the car and the second was to hope the rain did not last and fish through it with only a straw sun hat (for protection) and a poly propylene tee shirt. I chose the 2nd route, figuring it was early summer, the rain was light and well how long could it last? You know where this is going the rain got progressive harder, but really once you’re wet how much wetter can you get?.

 

As I moved back into the river I thought about the Head & Tail Rise I had seen earlier in the day.  I changed flies to a 16 gray something dry fly with a white tuff on top for easy sighting. I am proud to say I did not make a single cast until I had moved into position, there was no real rush, (by now I had the river all to my self despite the quality fishing). 2 anxious moments occurred; 1) targeting a fish hours after first spotting it was still relatively new to me and 2) between the rain and my wet cloths it felt like my waders were filling up. The lower I got below the tail the faster the water the heaver the drag. I had actual visions of cascading through the canyon below; the upside of this (if I made it) was that I would not have to scale the wall to get back to the car. As I studied the water I realized I would need to throw a wide slack line cast and quickly feed the line down stream to get it across and into his cave. So first I amadou’d the fly and doped it heavily, at all other expense I created a body cavity to allow it to dry and held it tight through the rain as I feed out the line.

 

2 quick false casts to get enough line out and to line up the correct position and my cast landed about 30 or so feet up river from the cavity. I did a quick exaggerated mend which almost sank the fly, but it pop up and set it on the right course. The drift was like slow motion a 30 foot drift seemed to take 20 minutes. From the moment the fly did not sink on the mend, I felt good about the cast. As I watched it work its way along the far bank I thought for a moment about another mend but could not risk sinking the fly. As it approached the opening I felt I misjudged the extra current off the rock and was certain it would drag. Just past the opening and a hair beyond the place where I recalled the rise I saw the fish come up, it was only then I did the math “ when to strike” I was a 45 feet ++ from the fish and had a lot of slack on the water. By the time the tail had come up I had already struck and as I watched the line tighten as he went under. I knew I had him, the fish gave a terrific fight stripping line and making my real sing a joyful song. The fish was a good 100 feet out when it occurred to me that it was heading for the fast pocket water and that I might loose it. I leaned on the butt and started the turn which moved the fish head in to the current this quickly tired it, and I reeled in a 21” brown. Not my biggest fish but still I can’t wait for next year…

 

Normally i keep my vest pretty full, but i always seem to forget something on the first day of a new trip. One day I will write down all the things I need on the water, a checklist  (including my rain gear) and keep it in my truck with the rest of my gear. One day I will write down a list, but not today…

 

 

 

First Time

It was on the "567" where i took my first rainbow on a fly and I guess it was as good a first place as any to wet a line. The river is known for trout it flows clear and gently though pastoral rolling farm country. Where i parked the car, the river is 40 feet or so across with plenty of open space between the trees which made the casting easy. I waded up an down every inch of about 300 or more yards of the river from side to side, kicking and stomping everything in site. I guess i figured it was the only way to gauge the bottom of the river and it currents (I know better now). I also assumed that i could just stop anywhere, that the fish were everywhere and that equipped with all the paraphernalia i could afford, would enable me to just catch fish or better still they would key into the cool logos and just jump right into my net.

After several hours with nothing to show, I waded out for a drink and a snack, during which time i "rested the water"(and myself).  After the short break I worked my way back to the water, i fished the edges and found mostly course fish. It was (and is) always fun to catch sunnies, but i did not drive 4 hours for sunnies, i was here for Trout. I guess i thought that the "good fish" (the trout) must be in the deeper current seam in the middle which was a good 2-3' deeper than the rest of the stream. So I switched from the bead heads, shrimp and nymphs which worked fine in the weeds to a Hornberg (mostly b/c i liked the way it looked) it seemed like a big meal for a hungry trout.

While changing flies i felt a presence behind me but when i turned to scan the horizon, nothing was there. Usually i am fairly sensitive to animals (see the "Brown Rocks" story), so i turned back and there 20 or so feet up river was a snake winding it way down toward me. My first instinct was to run, or some other such responsible grown-up action. Even then i was not certain that his heading my way was a plan or he was just caught in the current and i was downstream in any case i guided the tip of my rod to gently alter his slither and reroute him away from me. This worked fine for both of us.

Back to the Hornberg... I fished it down and across, not b/c i had read Bergman's "Trout", but b/c it was a hot day and i had been cooking in my waders for hours. I  and was just plain tired. I let the fly hang in the current and drew it back up in short strips, other times ijust jiggled the rod's tip. With none of the graceful cast and no hits this was close to being my first and last day as a fly fisher. At some point i was on to a good fish, although to this day i can not recall the strike or even the bump prior feeling the fish. I honestly think he really just hooked himself. I reeled him in and held my first fly caught rainbow, the fish was only about 14" but it was the greatest fish i had even held. I knew it was special and this one strike committed me to a life sentence of fly (well mostly fly) fishing.

My first instinct was to keep and eat him (but in the past I only eat them when camping or I am in need). After i had admired the catch, i slipped the hook out and tried to release him, but found him sluggish and unable to swim away. I walked him out to the current and held him so he faced into the flow to revive him and after a few minutes he was fine and swam crisply away.  All things considered one fish was a good first day with a fly.