Bronze Back

                                                                              Bronze Back

6/03/26 

  I waded out about half the distance of the river. I made a long cast across stream. The fly line looped the Woolly Bugger forward and it plopped in the water beyond without much slack line. I watched the floating fly line as it floated briefly. I saw the fly line dip beneath the surface and felt a bump. I raised the rod and yanked back the line. The line straightened, the rod bowed deep and the line took off down river with fish attached. It was obvious I had a weighty heavy fish. The fish continued to swim down river pulling line through the eyes as if dropping an roped anchor over the side of a drift boat not knowing the depth. He just kept swimming down river.

 I remember when I got my MoJo bass rod and called St. Croix and asked the representative what kind of reel and line should I get. He told me I wouldn’t need a reel that held a lot of backing because bass don’t run very far. Well, I had a feeling I had a smallmouth but he was running like an escaped prisoner with bloodhounds tracking him.      

 I pinched the fly line some to slow him down. He turned and strained to take more line. The 5 weight G2 Scott rod was arced more than I would have liked but I had to slow the fish down. He tugged and slowly swam back upriver a little further out than the path he used to swim downriver keeping his distance as if trying to fool the bloodhounds.

 Normally when I’m fishing for smallies in the river I use a 6 weight but lately I’ve been keying on trout with dry flies, wet flies and buggers. I wasn’t expecting to hook into a challenging big smallmouth.

 He was pretty much across from me with long hard tugs between pauses. I had the rod up and switched hands pinching the line against the cork grip with my left hand. I started reeling in the slack line laying on the water around me while the fish tugged. Once I got the slack line on the spool I was ready for a fight. I moved the rod back putting more side pressure on him. He turned all right and 180’d back down river. I couldn’t hold him from leaving and line shot through the rod guide again and through the eyes of the arcing fly rod. The G2, being more of a medium action rod, doesn’t have the backbone of a fast action rod. When I felt the rod wanting to pull my wrist down I knew the rod was straining so I had to let the fish take line. Downriver he was feeling the resistance though. He turned and started to swim in a side to side motion. I slowly started to wind in the tightened line as the arced rod flexed with the defiant fish swimming and tugging as I was getting him towards me from downriver. He was swimming upstream with the tensioned line and arcing rod but still keeping his distance. He held steady across from me and I brought the rod downstream and trying to get him to swim closer to me. It was if I was pulling a heavy twisted limb through the current. In the process he turned and started swimming downriver again. This time the pressure of the bowed rod was to much for him to swim too far. We battled back and forth with me shortening the line between us. Finally I got him within sight and slowly maneuvered him to the net. Wow, I would say he’s one of the top 5 biggest smallies I’ve ever caught in the river. A great looking bronze-back. 

 I continued fishing. There were only a few risers within distance. I tried for them with dry flies but they wouldn’t bite. I decided to knot on a pair of wet flies and cast them out. I ended up catching two brown trout and one rainbow on the wet flies. Switching over to a Woolly Bugger I caught one more smallie.    

  The sun was high above but it felt like it was not much higher than an umbrella the way the heat felt on my body. Around 4:00 I called it quits and headed to the truck and back to the camper. 

 An ice cooler full of beer sounded great to cool off!

~doubletaper

Dries and Wets

                                                                           Dries and Wets

6/02/26

The rainbows were pissed when I hooked them on a wet fly. It’s not that the brown trout weren’t upset when I fooled them on a dry fly, but the rainbows fought wildly! It was as if they felt safe from fishermen while feeding on emerging mayflies and drowned bugs drifting with the current without being suspicious. When I hooked them, they shook the line hard, tugged, pulled and were still squirming in the net. It was if they were like a professional burglar that never got caught a second time. When they did get caught red handed, they tried to get away from the tight handcuffs of the police tugging and trying to pull away. 

  The weather recently has been warm and no rain. That sounds like terrific conditions, but the wind has been relentless. With a fly rod it wasn’t pleasant. Tuesday the weather conditions were showing no wind burst and only a slight breeze throughout the day. I assembled my Scott G2 9-foot fly rod and was hoping to hook some trout on dry flies. I took the 1/2-hour drive or so and knew right where I felt I could raise some trout in Tionesta Creek. 

 The morning was slow going casting Woolly Buggers. A couple of risers I did come across wouldn’t take my caddis. I had a looker at my foam beetle but turned away. I started wading down creek slowly casting a Woolly Bugger. I was actually thinking of going somewhere else on the Tionesta but slowly kept wading and casting the bugger. Around 10:00 the water came alive with mayflies and trout started to rise. There were a few March Browns, at first, and a few small sulfurs. Also, there were a few big brown looking drakes and decent size yellowish mayflies fluttering off the water. The sun was shining down with only the far bank shaded in areas where leafy branched tree limbs over hung. The water was flowing calm. Occasional a breeze would blow across the surface and ripple the water. The big Mayflies busted out of the surface water as if they were free from a sheltered life. Only occasionally would I see a swirl on the water surface but no audio splashes that the trout may have been picking off the Mayflies just below the surface before they rose to freedom. 

 First, I tried a caddis, but the trout showed no interest. I switched to one of my brown and slate drake patterns about the size I saw of the natural Mayflies. I was making long casts and though the water was clear as glass I couldn’t tell if any trout were checking my imitation in the distance. Anyhow, I didn’t have any convincing takers. As I saw more March Browns emerging and on the surface water, I knotted on one of my trusty March Brown Para-dun patterns. If I saw a rise, I was after it like a mushroom hunter seeing Morels in the forest before another hunter spotted them. More times than not I got a hook set as soon as they took it under.  

 I’d blind cast when I didn’t see a rise within distance, but I still had trout rising out of nowhere. They all fought like heavy weights in a wrestling match. With the sun above I would have thought they would be hugging the far bank where there was some shade but no. They were rising from the far bank to mid-creek. It was either they were out in the creek where they knew the hatches were happening or they were out sunbathing taking in the warmness of the sun in the cold creek water. Whichever, some of the water they seem to be holding in wasn’t any more than knee deep.

 

I would say till 1:30 I was having a good time hooking trout on my March Brown patterns. Some of the trout would sip it off the surface like they were being spoon fed. Others would rise with a splash taking my March Brown as if they were afraid, it was ready to take flight. They all fought like there was a boundary in the water that they didn’t want to cross. Anytime I got them to a certain distance from me they tugged harder and pulled away. They had lots of lasting energy and when netted I could tell they’ve been eating well.   

  

 What became funny is when the trout seemed to not rise to my dry. Maybe they saw something not looking right or they were line shy of my 4x tippet. When a breeze blew and riffled the water like a narrow washboard the trout would rise to my dry. Maybe they couldn’t see my tippet, or it was the extra motion of my dry fly bobbing on the riffling surface made my dry look more natural as if flapping its wings?   

 I would say after 1:30 I couldn’t get any rises to my dry flies. There were still risers on occasion, but they didn’t look as if they were slurping the surface. There wasn’t any Mayflies or caddis of any amount that I was able to see. I nipped off the dry fly and knotted on a March Brown emerger dropping a soft hackle wet fly below. My first cast out a trout grabbed it like one would grab my bugger sweeping in faster water. I reared back, felt the bite, the line tightened briefly and went limp. I think when I hook a trout with a wet fly I don’t pull the line back hard enough to set the hook in its mouth. They hit the wet fly usually hard enough I figure they set the hook themself, but I need to remember to yank back to make sure it penetrates. 

 I continued to cast the wet fly combination near and far. The trout, that didn’t get hooked on the surface with my March Brown dry, were hungry enough to take my combo. Sometimes they took, one or the other, with a convincing tug. Other times I had to watch my floating fly line to detect a take. The slightest pull on my line outward I knew something grabbed my offerings.   

 The rainbows were excessively aggressive as if they never got caught before or were extremely upset that they were hooked by something they never thought was attached to a line. The browns fought tough enough below, but the rainbows were furious. After the hook up some would skyrocket out of the water shaking their head trying to dislodge the hook. Some of the rainbows tugged and pulled so hard I swear if I didn’t keep a tight enough grip on the cork handle, they would have pulled the rod right out of my hand. Near me, some would circle around me like a revolving tether ball on a pole. They tried everything in their power to get free, but I would say 95% of them ended up in my net. I was having a grand field day catching trout before I called it quits.   

 The sun was getting hotter and the feeding just about stopped like everyone went back to work after lunch time. I saw a few risers pretty far down creek a ways but wasn’t willing to chase after them. I was well satisfied with my field trip and headed back up to my truck. 

 I caught so many trout, sometimes I felt like I was cheating as if I soaked my wet flies in some kind of liquid trout scent that they couldn’t resist. But no, it was that I just picked the right Mayfly imitation and convincing looking wet flies that were buggy enough that the trout thought was edible and not attached to anything!! 

~doubletaper

Presentation

Presentation

5/29/26 

  It was a blue bird morning sky. Clouds were light and appeared like a light fog moving slowly across the sky. Birds are chirping in the trees and chipmunks are scurrying upon the crispy leaves that lay upon the forest floor from the winter past. Butterflies circle around me like they do around horse manure before they land. Green leafy branches over hang the creek downstream. The sound of the riffling water, over rocks and boulders, are enough to be a soothing sound to put a lazy camper to sleep. The clear water flows easily in the tail-out of the small waves and down creek. Sunshine filters through the tall trees standing on the far bank bringing layers of sunshine on the water between the darker shadows on the surface water caused by the tree reflections.

 After taking in the sounds around and the scenery that surround me I knot on a caddis to my 5x tippet. I lite a cigar and observe the water in front of me. There aren’t any risers to be seen but I plan on making them rise for breakfast.   

 I’m fishing in a well fished area. Close to the road that’s easy access to any fishing road hound. There’s no doubt in my mind that there’s trout leftover from the others that fished here. Maybe the trout, others caught, they set free. Maybe some of the trout got orientated with the natural food in the creek and no longer get fooled by odd bait or shiny spinners.

 I always feel, aside having the right profile and shade of a dry fly, presentation is most important. I know bottom fishermen claim the same when presenting a nymph, and may argue, but having fished both, I feel presenting a dry fly on the surface is more critical than fishing below. 

 Fishing across an even flowing current there isn’t much in presentation except to follow the dry with your rod tip with the current. Usually no need to mend but if doing so keep the mend closest to you as to not to interrupt the dry. When there is crossing currents it gets trickier. I like to make sure my dry fly drifts downstream first, in front of my leader/tippet. This is why I mostly try to be upstream from my target areas. I can make a looping cast with ‘S’ bends in my fly line as it floats along the surface water giving my dry a drag free drift with the current. Like these two trout gulping my well drag free caddis.  

 On occasion, I might mend the line if I intend to let the dry fly drift down creek further from me. When doing this I’ll follow the dry with my rod tip trying to keep the dry from dragging the surface water. Though the water might be shallower down creek, near the bank, I never know what trout might be lazing out of the main current flow waiting for a meal. Wham…. 

 Casting up stream and hooking a trout is always a problem for me. When a trout is just up creek, out in front of me, I’ll keep my rod tip high and bring in line as need be. When casting out, across creek and upstream, it gets a little more challenging. So this one trout is rising up creek just this side of the faster wavy current. I have to make a long cast and get my dry upstream from him. I wade upstream a bit so when I cast the leader doesn’t splash down above his feeding zone. I draw the rod behind my left shoulder and make a sharp cast upstream dropping my dry just ahead of where I saw the hungry trout feeding. Maybe I surprised him or he had to look it over. He doesn’t take it and it drifts by. I make another cast in the same manner and this time he doesn’t waste any time grabbing for the caddis. I yank back the long length of line, the rod tip arcs and the line tightens. Another fighting trout enters the net after a grueling battle. 

 Blind casting out I notice a trout turn towards my dry caddis as if my dry passes by him too quickly and he turns away. My dry was actually dragging across the surface near the end of the drift but still drew his attention. Now that I know where he is I’ll make a better cast towards him with the dry drifting, drag free, into his feeding zone.

 With all my experience, dry fly fishing and watching natural caddis as well as Mayflies, they more than likely flow with the current before taking off or resting. Very seldom do they cross the current before taking off unless on a windy day when they get blown off course. Stoneflies on the other hand frequently cross the current, fluttering their wing, as if to reach the other side of the creek. So they say “the grass is always greener on the other side.”

 I make a looping cast in front of the last trout I saw inspecting my dry caddis. This time my caddis is drifting into his feeding zone, drag free and right towards him. He slurps my dry and I lift the rod quickly for the hook set. He splashes the surface in defiance for a good second or two before going deep. We tussle with one another but the hook stays set and I net another angry trout. 

 Time tics by and the sun is pretty much above and more water is now under the sunshine. There are fewer risers and little caddis are starting to dap the water. I continued to cast dry caddis out to nowhere in particular. I hook a trout now and then but there are long pauses in between.

 

  I make a long cast towards the far bank over the wavy current onto slow water. If there’s a trout hungry enough he’ll have to grab my dry caddis before it gets pulled down creek with the wavy current against my fly line. I make a few casts consistently with big loops upstream on the wavy current trying to make sure my dry rests enough time for a take. I make another cast and watch my dry hit the water. Immediately a trout grabs it rising to the surface. I’m surprised but my instincts takes over as I quickly raise the rod and long length of line off the water and the line tightens once again. I grin and call out, gotcha!!! A nice brown trout scrambles in my net. 

 I have seen this one trout rise in the slower tail out of wavy water. I had tried for him a few times earlier but he refused to take a sample. I gave him plenty of time before my last cast to him and since I hadn’t saw him rise in some time maybe he’s hungry by now. 

 I wade down creek to get a batter cast towards him. I’m not sure where he actually is but I know within a close location. Near enough he should see my caddis under the sunshine coming towards him. I make a cast onto the tail-out wavy current. My dry caddis drifts flawlessly down creek. The wavy current turns into a calmer flow downstream. A trout surfaces for my caddis as I see the swirl from where I stand. I lift the rod and long length of line. Again the rod arcs, this time deeper, and the line tightens. The trout surfaces, upper body exposed, and fights the tight line, with head shakes, splashing water in all directions. He dives deep, though the water only looks shin deep, and rushes upstream. I bring in line as quick as I can and keep the rod lifted to keep the line tight. He gets across from me, still a ways across creek, and I move the rod even with him. He shakes the line and the upper section of the rod responds with flexing effect. He turns down creek and I have to let line pull from the reel for fear of snapping my 5x tippet or freeing my knots. I put tension on the line, after he swims down creek a bit, and he turns into the current. My knots hold up and the line is still as tight as a lumberjacks guide rope making sure the tree falls in a safe location. He battles down creek and I slowly bring him upstream. Getting him close enough to net isn’t easy but I maneuver the rod and get him into the net safely.  

 A trout is feeding in the faster wavy current. I wade across from him and make a long cast is his direction. After the third cast, and no response, I let my dry caddis flow into the softer water, still dry fly first. I notice a swirl at my dry but the trout doesn’t take it under. I refrain from pulling the dry back as I still see my caddis above the water. It slowly drifts by and wham, the trout rises and quickly takes it under. I set the hook as quick as I can and again the line tightens. The trout rises to the surface shaking the piercing hook like getting stung by a hornet. My line stays tight as the fish dives in the deeper water. We battle against one another as I’m laughing how I fooled him by not lifting the dry off the water after his first initial swirling test. I get him netted safely. 

  It’s pretty hot out with the sun overhead. I feel I had enough fun dry fly catching for the day and head upstream to my truck. It’s another day challenging my skill, making correct presentations and fooling the local trout!! 

~doubletaper

 

 

Not Being Picky

                                                                          Not Being Picky

6/01/26 

 Clarion river has an assortment of fish in the river. The last few days I’ve been targeting trout with dry flies, nymphs and Woolly Buggers. I wanted to fish a different area along the river where I know smallmouth bass and trout both inherit the water. Not that the other place didn’t but I usually catch more bass than trout where I was going to fish. I usually use a 6 weight fishing the river for bass and tempt them with poppers more than streamers. My 5 weight Icon was already ready to go so I took it out of the truck and knotted on a Woolly Bugger.

 I carefully made my way along the side of the road and down the bank to the river. Shin deep along the bank I took time to look the conditions over. The sky was light blueish with white puffy clouds that appeared to float above in no hurry if you watch them long enough. The sun was out and was warming the morning. The river flowed clear across without any visible obstacles above the surface water. I could tell the hidden obstacles beneath by the swirls in the surface current. Any hazards stuck to the bottom I wasn’t sure. Other than the birds chirping every once in a while I’d hear or see a couple of geese down river. I felt alone but there was a road on each side of the wide river and occasionally a vehicle would pass by. Other than that I was the only one on the river fishing as far as I could see. 

 I figured I’d start off casting the bugger in the faster riffling wavy water that didn’t look more than thigh high deep. I wasn’t sure how far across I would be able to wade so when I did I was careful about it and really didn’t get as far across as I wanted. No matter, I was out far enough that I had plenty of room for a long backcast which gave me plenty of distance for a forward cast. Casting out among the riffling waves and fast current I felt my bugger wasn’t getting down deep enough on the swing. I brought in line and added a small split shot at least 15” above the bugger. This might seem a lot but I wanted the bugger to swing without touching bottom and I also felt the bugger would swing more freely than the weight being closer to the bugger.

 I was puffing on my cigar and was as relaxed as I could be. No rush to cast to any certain spot on the river. I knew there had to be fish in there and would only hook one if one happen to be hungry. I hadn’t seen anyone wade fishing the area and usually the fishermen in canoes and kayaks don’t usually have anchors. They may pull over in a back eddy behind a big boulder along the bank but there were none in the area I was fishing for them to do so. Though it is a Monday, with lots of activity on the river the weekend before, the fish are used to that and I didn’t feel they would be too worried about feeding. I mean I’m sure we all have been in restaurants were there was many unruly, noisy people but we still eat our meal and try to just tune them out. I imagine the fish are the same way. As long as no one is swimming near them or throwing stones near them they aran’t going to move much and if food passes by, if their hungry, they are going to grab it. 

 Slowly wading down river and casting out I had 2 hookups but was unable to get them very close at all to net them  and I thought ‘here we go again!” A few days ago I hooked up several time in the faster current but couldn’t keep them on the hook. I know I was going to let them go anyway but I would have at least liked to get an eyeball on them. 

 One offer a fish grabbed the bugger as it was swinging. The line straightened on the surface water before I yanked the rod up and stripped the line in. The fish fought, tugging the line, where he grabbed the bugger before taking off down creek. Playing the fish towards me against the undercurrent was a challenge. I didn’t horse him in as I did the others but I wasn’t going to have him have his way swimming long. I got him to the slower water between me and the bank and got him netted. A nice brown trout laid in my net. 

 Continuing wading slowly and casting the bugger out, pretty much as far as I could,  I caught a couple of nice rainbows that looked like they were well fed.  

  Practically after the end of one drift I had a take. I pulled the rod back and the line tightened once again. The fish on the other end fought to and fro but wasn’t that hard getting him in. I wasn’t all surprised by my catch as long as I was catching fish I was happier. I wasn’t picky who I got in the net and took a picture of the smallmouth. 

 I was pretty much down creek from the faster riffling water where the water was a bit calmer and looked deeper. The bugger swung a lot slower which I figured was drifting deeper. A fish grabbed the bugger almost at the end of the drift. I lifted and yanked the rod back and the fish was on. I knew I had a husky fish and soon learned he wasn’t going to be easy getting to the net. I wasn’t surprised by sure glad I didn’t catch him in the faster current. We fought back and forth not giving each other much time to rest. It took time but I got him in the net safely. He was a nice bronze colored smallmouth! 

 By now the sun was up above the river and everything around me was quite lit up. The hillside downriver looked greener, the puffy clouds above looked whiter. The river water surface looked like a wrinkled satin sheet, shimmering under the sunlight, across and down river. I puffed on my stogie and relaxed a bit enjoying the scenery. 

 I wasn’t getting any hook ups down river any more so I went back up where I started and figured I’d spend another 1/2 hour or so covering the water I had already fished.

I was still swinging the Woolly Bugger with every cast. I was a bit out further than before in just over my knees. I was making long casts out and across though, because of the gusts of wind on occasion, I wasn’t sure where my bugger was going to fall. Being that I was in deeper water I would let the bugger swing straight down from me. On one occasion, after the bugger got to the end of the drift, down from me, I started to slowly strip it towards me. A fish grabbed the bugger as if it wanted to tear it apart, like a hate crime! After I tightened the line on him he pulled back with force and headed to the faster riffling current out in the river. I tightened my grip on the cork handle as line stripped through the guides and eyes as if an airplane took off the runway with a banner attached. The fast action rod arced into the midsection and I knew I had a good fish. It stayed beneath pretty much the whole ordeal so I wasn’t sure if it was a brown trout or a husky smallmouth. We had a good battle like two kids tugging on each end of a stuffed animal in the playground. Neither of us were giving in. The funny thing was both of us was going to lose if we both lost out grip on the toy we were tugging. He wasn’t coming in very easily and trying to disrupt his fight I would move the rod towards the bank. When he followed and tugged, I’d swing it back to my right. I guess I was trying to confuse him but doing So I wasn’t able to get him closer to me. I backed up towards the bank so I was in water just below my knees. I was coaxing him upstream in the riffling current. When he got, just down from me, I swung the rod towards the bank and lifted it. I had already had my net out dangling from the elastic cord to my belt. I grabbed the net with my left had and as I raised the bowing rod, he came up from the bottom shaking his body to no avail. I netted him cleanly. He was a nice brown trout that looked like he lived in the river for quite a few years! 

 Downriver I was casting a bugger in the slower water. I was waiting for my cigar to burn down before wading back up river and to the place I entered the river. I made a couple of long casts across the river and let them drift into the slower current. I saw the end of my fly line dip down and I felt a nudge. I lifted the rod quick with a hard wrist set. The line came off the water and the line tightened. I felt a head shake and then the line took off down and away. I knew I had something with some muscle. He didn’t head shake or twist and turn quickly like a trout but used his muscle and weight to guide the line and rod tip where he wanted to go. We had a good battle and I was glad we were in the slower current. Eventually I got him in the net. Another fine bronze back got its picture taken. 

 By now the sun was high above and in full view. I swear it was getting hotter by the minute. After that I made a couple more casts but called it a day and headed back up to the truck.

~doubletaper