A Week Late

 A Week Late

4/29/24 

  I was ready to do some dry fly fishing so I took out my G2 Scott fly rod. There was hardly a breeze and the medium action 9' rod would be more relaxing casting than the two fast action rods I've been using in windy conditions the past couple of days.

  I looked out over the water and already I saw a couple fish rising. There hasn't been much bugs flying around lately. The Grannom hatch seems to be over but there still is a few small caddis flying around now and then. I think there was a Blue Dun hatch the past week but wasn't really sure about what the little mayflies were. They definitely weren't Blue Wing Olives.

 I was knee deep able to cast near the far bank if need be. I had a Woolly Bugger on to start with, as always. When I saw two trout break the surface I nipped it off and knotted on a section of 6x tippet. I had caught a few trout the other day on a black elk hair caddis and a few on a dark olive tan elk hair. I knotted on a #14 tan elk hair to make it easier to see. The sun wasn't quite over the cliff side forest trees just yet but it's brightness shown only half the width of the creek. The couple of risers were on the dark side.

 I pulled line out and made false casts letting more line slip through my fingers. I could feel the medium action rod load behind me and gave a relaxing cast upstream from the last riser. It took a few drifts for encouragement but he did end on the end of my line. The other riser wasn't easily fooled and wouldn't bite.

 More fish started to rise, mostly taking emergers I presume, though I couldn't see anything on the surface they may be taking. There was a few small caddis flying about but when one hit the water surface no trout nabbed it. I wasn't having any takers on the tan elk hair so I knotted on the black body elk hair caddis. This was the ticket as some would say!

 I felt like the only ice cream vendor at the county fair on a hot summers day. That little #18 caddis was just what the trout wanted, big or small. Nothing in my birthday trout range but some quality fish slurped it up as if licking ice cream off a sugar cone! I would move around, within distance of the risers, which kept me busy for some time. When the wind picked up, in spurts, it was a little harder to place my offering where I wanted it but I managed.

 

 Now, I said I hooked many but getting them into to the net wasn't a finishing touch. Many of the trout came unhooked once I got them close. Unless I had a good hook set in the side of their mouth that little #18 hook didn't grip the fish lip skin enough to hold them. No matter, I was going to release them anyhow. The pleasure is finding the right offering, fooling the fish and hooking them with a fair fight. 

 Satisfied, and not seeing anymore risers I went back to the camper. Checking the time it was only 1:30. I took a break and relaxed in the camp chair. I ate a couple of granola bars and drank a bottle of cold spring water. I know I hadn't taken many pictures but I was kind of tired doing so. Besides, except for their size, they all looked the same..except one! After a relaxing break I figured I'd drive down creek and finish the day off.

 I got down to the water and found rising trout in a fast wavy riffle across creek. I couldn't wade upstream or down stream for better casting because the water was too deep. I had to make long casts over a cross current flow. It was tough and I missed the first few that came up quickly in the fast water. There was a couple that came up downstream where the water wasn't as wavy and I was able to pick a couple up on a caddis.When I didn't see any other risers I knotted on a Bugger but that didn't last too long because nothing was biting. I thought for a moment and figured trying to nymph fish. Maybe a wet fly of some sort above a Hares Ear might attract a hit. I've caught a few trout the other day on a Hares Ear so I just thought maybe?

 I knotted on the two with a Picket Pin on top. I was casting in deep water downstream from the faster run I saw fish rising earlier. I casted upstream and let it drift downstream with a mend. I wasn't using an indicator so I kept my eyes peeled on the floating fly line to detect a strike. After the line passed me, from the corner of my eye, I saw a yellow oblong shape swimming upstream. He was very apparent in the dark water. I had thought my drift had already passed him when the trout disappeared in the deep darkness of the water. I felt a pull, the line twitched outward and I jerked the rod up and back. I knew I had a trout on. All of a sudden, to my surprise, the golden yellow trout appeared heading down creek with my tight line following. I had him!

 I know I have fought some tough battles with big trout but I just couldn't remember when. This guy was no easy pushover. Each tug was a handful that had me gripping the cork grip tightly. At times I had to let tension line out when he so desired as the rod bowed deeply with each wrenching tug. He swam outward toward the far bank and turned sharply tugging at will. I had him swimming upstream across from me a couple of times, after a fierce battle down creek, and I thought he was tired out. When he saw how close he was he turned away angrily, pulling and tugging as if trying to yank the rod right out of my hand. I gave him tension line as he swam away with the tip of the rod pointing in his direction as the line cut through the surface water like a a crating knife through packing tape. Three times I had him near me and three times he shook his head harshly and pulled away. I was in knee deep water and thought I could get him in shallower water behind me. He was downstream putting on some shenanigans when I spun my body and rod towards the near bank. He followed unwillingly as if to see what I was up to. Once he realized he was in shallower water he spun with his head up shaking the line furiously as the rod flexed and arced like a limb of a snare trap, with a wild rabbit trying the get loose. He was on too long and I know I had lost many a trout break free this long. I just had to be patient and wear him out a little more. 

 Well, I finally got him to cooperate, not to his satisfaction of course, and got my net under him when he least expected it and scooped him up. He was a handful. Trying to keep him in the net was another challenge. He was weighty and built solid like a training body builder. He flopped around heavily and didn't seem like he was going to quit. I never talked to trout before but I was trying to tell him I was going to release him and he wasn't going on the wall attached to a piece of driftwood. When he finally settled down enough I got a picture before pulling the Hares Ear out of his jaw. 

 

 I'll admit it took some time for him to swim off on his own power. I faced him into the current to revive him. When I felt good and sure he was going to make it, feeling a tail swat, I released him from my grip. He didn't dart off but easily swam away into the current and disappeared beneath.

 Come to think of it I hadn't caught my birthday trout as of yet. A week late but hey, better late than never!

~doubletaper

 

 

 

White Belly Rainbows

 White Belly Rainbows

4/23/24

“I was picking off white belly stocked rainbows like swatting pesky flies on the window sill!”

 

  I woke up early but it was only 30 degrees outside so i decided to make breakfast to pass the time till it got warmer. Well, the wait after breakfast didn't last too long cause i was anxious to hit the creek after trout. being the water has been high the last couple of weeks i figured the trout should be scattered. I dressed warm, put on my chest waders and boots outside my camper and walked down to the creek. I think it may of reached 42-42 degrees y then but i didn't care.

 I started wading out casting a Woolly Bugger. Maybe it was the third cast and my first trout was on the line scurrying about. The second trout came pretty quick in the same way. Both trout wee only about 6" at most. I think the Fish Commission should be ashamed stocking trout so small. Still fishing with the bugger, out and about, I was picking off white ell rainbows like swatting pesky flies off a window sill! 

 

 After about the 9th trout I hooked the bugger to the rod hook keeper. I reached into my jacket and pulled out a CAO stogie, bit the butt end and lit it up. So what it was only 900 in the morning? A morning stogie never hurt anyone I know of. i took a puff and for a moment looked at my surroundings.

 White translucent clouds streaked above beneath the robin egg blue sky. The cliff, across the creek, leaked water and tumbled down the rocky shelves and emptied into the creek with audible splashing. Large bare trees limbs branched over the creek banks and small twigs, looking like an old witches fingers, extended off of scraggly branches as if from weary fragile arms. Young trees could be seen already blooming looking like white Jujubes dangling from their thin branches. I took another puff of the cigar and watched the smoke waver away with the slight breeze. The sun wasn't quite over the hillside tree tops but its rays reflected off the clouds and sparkled the subtle wavy surface current. The water was cold as if from a snow melt. 

 

  I made long casts across stream and watch my line drift in an arc with the current. A sharp pulling tug and I rear back setting the hook. A trout shoots up creek in a heap as the rod tip points towards the victim. He scurries about as I bring him to the net.

 

 It appears the under current is a lot stronger than what the surface looks. Every trout seams to be a lot bigger fighting them against the current.Sure I miss one now and then but I don't hit every fly on the first swing either.

 

 As the wind picks up, gusts swoosh upstream causing all kinds of mishaps while my lines in the air. Wind knots appear and sometimes the bugger somehow gets itself wrapped up around the leader and tippet looking like a wasps caught in a thick spider web. I'll take my time unwinding things or if too bad just cut it off and tie on new tippet.

 Come noon the bites aren't as frequent but I continue wading down creek casting and will get surprised by a lonesome trout away from his buds.

The last few were so hungry they gulped the bugger and I had to do a little maneuvering unhooking the bugger from the inside of their mouths.  

 

  I took a short break around 2 at the camper before walking up creek to a new section of water. I lit my last cigar on the bank before wading into the thigh high water.

 

 My third cast, with a yellow bugger, yielded a quick strike and healthy rainbow came to the net. It would take another 10 minutes or so for my next strike.

 

The wind was now forceful and some of those feeble ranches were now falling into the water and tumbling downstream on the surface. Casting became too cumbersome and at times useless so I waded out and called it a day. 

 It was near 430 when I got back to the camper. I was tired and figured I'd take a shoet nap before dinner.

 And that's my White Belly Stockie story!

 

~doubletaper

 

Birthday Outing 2024

 

Birthday Outing 2024

4/21/24

 Being I was moving to a new house I didn’t get to go out the opening day of trout in Pennsylvania. The water was high anyway from the constant rain the few days before. Fact is I didn’t get to go out at all the first two weeks cause I was still moving, packing and unpacking. Usually I’m camping along a creek during this time but??? Come April 21^st I had to stop the necessary ‘moving in’ and take a day to fish, especially since it was my birthday. After a healthy breakfast I headed off to Oil Creek. Maybe a little later than I wanted to but the temps were still in the upper 30’s when I left. By the time I got to the creek the temperature was around 43. It was a bit nippy but I was anxious to get out.

  I slipped the sections together of my Icon 9’ fast action 5 weight rod. Made sure the tapered leader was at least 9’ long and knotted on a fast-snap and snapped on a Woolly Bugger. I put on my heavy Gortex fishing jacket, grabbed my net and a few cigars. Time had no future, as I was going to enjoy myself till the sun goes down or I run out of cigars!!

  I headed up creek and figured I would just fish my way back down near to where I came in at. By now I figured the fish were well spread out so I wasn’t planning on staying in one spot, casting out, hoping to find a pod of trout to fish to. The water was a little high so I couldn’t wade out too far but the color was pretty much perfect as far as I was concerned. It was pretty cold as I felt the coldness penetrate around my ankles and calves as I stepped into the stream. It didn’t take too long for the coldness to surround my feet like a tight fitting sock. I kind of got used to half my right hand being numb so I didn’t have to practice much to get a good cast out though roll casting wasn’t very coordinated.

  Hooking up with the first trout within the first few minutes is always a good thing. It gave my confidence that the fish were active enough to chase a bugger even in the cold water.

 

 I’d slowly wade downstream casting out and letting my offerings, whatever streamer I chose to use, drift down creek in an arc till the line straightened down creek from me. With weight on my leader, at times, I was sure to get my bugger down below the surface to the trout in the constant fast moving water.

  Feeling that tug, of a trout, on the end of the tippet was all that I needed to get back into my trout fishing zone. The stocked rainbows were active once I hooked one as the rod bowed and flexed with each hook up. They fought against the current as I slowly played them to the net slapping the surface water as I drew them near.

 

 Enjoying a cigar between my lips, a little sunshine now and then and hooking trout was like an enjoyable spring walk on a trail through the wilderness. I wasn’t expecting to catch a big birthday trout though it did often enter my hoping thoughts. But some of the trout I did catch were big and healthy enough to make me wanting more. 

 

  Every once in a while I’d hook into a trout that bullied its way beneath the surface. I just knew it had to be a brown trout. ‘They too liked my buggers’. The browns I caught looked as though they were hold overs from years past. Beautiful colors featuring tan bellies, covered with black spots and ruby red dots inside of silver halos. 

 

  As it got later in the day the air got colder. The wind picked up and it was a bit deceiving trying to cast against the wind to where I wanted my offering to land, but I managed at times. Sometimes the wind would blow my line upstream as it flew through the air. I would hold the rod a little higher hoping not to drag bottom and snag up after the streamers plopped into the water. Then, all of a sudden, I’d see my line start to straighten upstream with a slight tug and I’d whip the rod down creek, tightening the line and hook a trout on the down swing!

 

  All in all it was a good birthday outing. I got to enjoy myself, without people interruptions, catching trout and smoking a few cigars.

~doubletaper

March Brown Nymph

 

March Brown Nymph Tute

1. Hook #10 or #12 3906b Mustad (1x long nymph hook)

2. Thread; Brown 6/0

3. weight. .015 lead wire

4. Tail; Pheasant tail fibers

5. Rib; Brown Thread

6. Abdomen; Amber/Seal Fur mixed dubbing

7. Wing Pad; Mottled Turkey Quill Section

8. Legs; 1 Brown Speckled Hen Feather

 

Material

1. Thread base hook shank and counter wrap lead as shown

2. Secure lead with thread wraps and flatten lead with pliers

3. Tie in pheasant tail fibers, behind lead to bend, about the length of the hook shank

4. Trim Fibers and tie in brown thread behind lead at tail

 

5. Dub abdomen as shown

6. Wrap thread, forming rib, around abdomen to front.

 

7. Tie in turkey section over abdomen as shown

 

8. Dub thorax right in front of wing pad only, leaving room for legs

9. Tie in Speckled Hen Hackle in front of dubbing

10. Make 1 wrap of hackle, in front of dubbing, forming legs and tie off. Trim any unruly barbs under and/or beneath abdomen

 

11. Dub rest of thorax to behind eye leaving space to tie in wing pad.

 

12. Fold wing pad over thorax and tie down.

13. Trim off any ‘legs’ to your liking keeping even on both sides

Whip Finish and I add head cement to nymph head and wing pad

 

 

~Doubletaper

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Edge With a Bad Hand

 

The Edge With a Bad Hand

2/09/24

 Looking at the crick, from the bank, it had good color and not very deep off the bank. Maybe 2 feet visibility to see the crick bottom in the knee deep water. The deeper water was grayish green where nothing below is visible. There were already fishermen nymph fishing the deeper section behind the shop. There was enough room to slip between them but why make them uncomfortable when the rest of the crick is available without the tension? I stepped off the bank into the cold flowing February water. I waded out into the faster water that flowed and widened into the deeper section.

  Before I go on, this was only my second time out this year since the beginning of December. I had pinched a nerve in my right arm that left my ring finger, pinkie and that side of my palm numb on my right hand. This also left the rest of my fingers and thumb with less strength. Without going into detail I had all the tests done and diagnosis and the results is that it may take 2-3 months to heal. There is no drug or exercise that can hasten the healing process. I’m right handed. It’s a weird feeling. 2 days ago I was out fishing, since my misfortune, and found I can’t roll cast worth diddly squat and my overhand casting is awkward and I can’t make any long effort casts. I didn’t catch anything then but it was good to know what I can do with a fly rod in my hand.

  It’s late morning and the sun is shining through the wintry gray clouds. I was hoping for a lil stonefly hatch but it may be later in the day once the water warms up a bit. I knotted on a Triple Threat streamer and cautiously cast towards the far bank and let it drift down crick in an arc. The third cast I felt a pulling tug and quickly set the hook. My first fish was on. Not a big one but it felt good to catch a fish within minutes of wetting a line. It was a nice eager brown trout.

 

 With that, coming so quickly, I figured it was going to be a good fish catching day all day. It was about 1130 but I didn’t get a take until another hour and a half later. Hooking up to another brown trout down stream on a Triple Threat. 

 

  I did try nymphing in between that hour and a half without a strike. The other fishermen weren’t doing any better either. Only one guy was catching a fish on occasion but they were suckers. I’m not sure what he was using in this delayed harvest artificial lure only waters but whatever it was the suckers liked it better than the trout.

After that last brown it would take another 2 ½ hours before I got another hook set but it was a doozy. In the mean time fishermen would come and go like visitors in an art gallery. They would take time looking at the scenery, get bored and moved to the next area with more paintings. Finally get bored without any entertainment and leave.

  I waded back into the faster water where I caught my first brown trout. In those two and a half hours I got two short strikes that they wouldn’t strike again. It was if my imitation looked enticing but tasted like liver and they weren’t going back for a bigger bite. I waded down, as I was casting the steamer, stopping across from a calmer wavy current behind a hidden bolder beneath. This looked like a good deeper holding spot, behind the bolder and under the riffles. The sun was shining brightly and I noticed a few midges flying around. There was a bigger fly, maybe a lil stonefly that would skirt across the water but they were too far away to determine.

  When nymph fishing earlier I was using an assortment of bead head stoneflies, Zebra midges and other small nymphs that didn’t entice any strikes. I decided to knot on a weighted, non bead, Kaufman stone and above that a San Juan worm I tie with a bead. I lit a cigar and figured on just enjoying the warm sunshine and not get too ambitious about catching anything exciting.

 

  Trout are curious and I figured the bright red San Juan worm might attract an onlooker and after refusing the worm maybe seeing the nymph and taking it. It hadn’t rained in some time so I didn’t figure any worms got washed into the crick so I figured the San Juan would be more of attracting a fish rather than actually catching one on it. I made a short overhand casts, or a sloppy roll casts upstream, mended line, and let them dead drift under the wavy current.

  My stonefly was weighted and with the bead on the San Juan I thought would get my offering down to the crick bed for any lazy trout to see. If it didn’t work I’d add more weight as needed. I wasn’t using an indicator, float, bobber or what ever the term they use these days. I just watch the tip of my floating fly line and any unusual flow or dip I’d go for a hook set. About my forth drift through the tip of my fly line dipped in front of me. I quickly raised the rod, pulled in line to set the hook. Limp line shot up out of the water and tightened and the 9’ 4 weight instantly bowed into the mid section. There was a brief pause and then the line took off out towards the far bank and then turned down crick with weighty tugs. Line peeled off the tensioned spool and by the bend in the rod and the grip in my hand to keep the rod up I knew I had a doozy.

  I couldn’t hold the rod up steady with my right hand, being half numb, so I had to switch the rod to my left hand for a stronger grip. I’m glad I had my reel drag set half decent. Though I cast with my right hand I also reel in with my right hand. Thus being the drag knob is on the left side so I wasn’t able to adjust the tension. I couldn’t hold, or play the trout with the fly line pinched between my right finger and thumb because I didn’t have the strength to do so. I had the trout coming towards me a few times but he took off each time. With 4lb tippet on my 4 weight rod I didn’t want to horse him in so I had to be patient and tire him out the best I could. During the struggle he swirled water just below the surface so I got to get an eyeball on the big rainbow before he took deep again. With my net attached to my left side I knew I had to switch hands again to net him. This meant I had to hold the rod high enough with enough strength with a three finger grip in my right hand. I also had to pinch the fly line against the cork handle with enough strength not to let the fish take off, taking line, if he decides he doesn’t want to be netted just yet. I thought all this out in my head. I knew the longer it took to tire the trout the more likely I’d lose him.

  When I finally got the fish close enough to net I switched the rod to my right hand and took out the net with my left. The trout took off like a feral cat cornered in a back alley. Line slipped through my weak pinching finger. I dropped the net and switched hands again to fight the fish and reel him in with my right hand. Once close enough I switched hands and was finally able to net the big trout. The Kaufman stonefly was just piercing the outer layer of lip skin that could of pulled out at any time. With my fingers I was able to dislodge the hook with ease. After a quick picture I tilted the net in the water and he left like an embarrassed shy young man getting rejected by a cute girl for the next dance at the high school prom.

 Any experienced on looker was probably scratching their heads why I took so long, switching hands so many times, to get the fish to the net.

 

  I looked at the time and it was 3:40. Normally I might have quit, being out so long, but I was planning on leaving around 4 so a few more minutes, and time really wasn’t a definite problem.

  I checked my offerings and they still were in tact with no visual problems. I made awkward casts and watched my fly line as before. Within 5 minutes, according to my phone photos, my fly line curved upstream and I set the hook. As before my line straightened and the fish took off as the 9 footer bowed good into the midsection. I had another biggie. Having just experience this I knew it was going to take some time to get the big trout in but I didn’t have to think this one out using my half numb hand.

  This trout came up below the surface more often and maybe just to see who faked him out with such an attractive imitation. This trout took the San Juan worm as each time he appeared I saw it hanging half out of his mouth. Though it appeared he had the same girt I think he was a little longer as I had a harder time fitting him in the net.

 

  It took a little longer unhooking the San Juan from his inner lip but I managed to yank it out OK. After a quick picture I was holding him up out of the net to show the bank-side onlookers the big rainbow. When I got it to the top of the brim the trout wiggled enough and I lost my grip in my half numb hand. It slid off the rim of the net and into the water. I guess it didn’t want to show it’s brawn physique to the spectators, being it lost the fight, and just wanted to disappear without anyone gawking at it!

  I took out my last stogie and lit it up under the sunlight. I continued fishing the same pattern and hooked up two more times to smaller fish. One I had on a short while before it came loose. The second one spit the hook as soon as the line tightened. Spitting it out like a sunflower seed husk after getting the kernel out of it.

  On the way home I smoked the stogie thinking about my accomplishment. Last May I broke my custom made 9’ 4weight fast action fly rod while casting a dry fly. The center section fibers split apart like a bow string. The only thing I figured, about two weeks before that I had caught a huge rainbow I fought and had a hard time bringing it up from the bottom in knee deep water. The rod was bent good and that’s when I think the weakness started. The motion of the overhand cast evidently continued to weaken and the rod section finally splintered. I looked around for another 9’ 4 weight 4 piece rod and I guess it’s not a popular model. I found a sale on such a rod from Edge Rod Company. That I understand they were designed/made under the supervision of Gary Loomis. Knowing that, I figured they had to be quality rods. That was the rod I was just using when I caught those two big rainbows. Casting this rod and bringing in the catch was no big problem, bad hand and all.

 

~doubletaper

Good Friday

 

Good Friday

11/03/23

  The parking area was full up with lines of vehicles when I arrived in the morning. It was if I was late for early mass. I parked in the grass giving way to any other late vehicles. I’ve fished this area before, for steelhead, some years ago so I was sort of familiar. With all the vehicles though I wasn’t sure I’d find a pew empty enough not to be crowded shoulder to shoulder.

  When I got to the water I looked down creek where I had fished before. I saw a few fishermen just before the bend that I knew flowed into a deep hole. I looked upstream and there was only one fisherman pretty far up, by himself, casting a fly line.

  The water, between him and I, was flat water but the leaves upon the surface showed there was some current flow. The section was wide enough, and with the slightly tinted water, there might be some steelhead that was somewhere in between him and I. I just had to find them. Being I was late for mass I decided to walk up stream, towards the fisherman, and fish my way to where I started.

  I carefully crossed the creek in shallow to knee deep water, feeling the cold water, to the path on the other side. As I walked the path upstream I kept an eye on the water trying to spot any fish. Once up, close enough to talk to the gentleman, I started my quest. I asked him if he caught anything yet and he friendly replied no, the fish weren’t biting. He mentioned ‘I should have been here yesterday.’

  I knotted on a Triple Threat streamer and proceeded to cast across creek and let the streamer drift downstream. Not knowing how deep the water was I’d add weight now and then. Slowly I waded down stream casting my fly line. Now and then people would show up and walked behind me or stop and fish here and there before the entrance to the creek. I didn’t see any of them catch anything and they moved on. About half way between the guy and the place I entered I got my first strike. I felt the slightest tug on the line, like what you might feel walking into a thin spider web, and I yanked back for the hook set. The line straightened immediately and took off like a bat out of hell, one might say.

  He took off upstream peeling line off the spool. The fly line cut threw the surface water like a Ginsu knife slicing threw a Big Jim Chili pepper. I tightened the loose drag a couple of clicks trying to slow him down. Upstream he came to the surface ferociously shaking his head before going back under. The sound of the splashing was heard far enough the guy upstream turned to see the commotion. The fish kept his distance swimming down creek in a hurry. I was able to reel in some of the slack line before getting the line tight towards him again. We proceeded to battle it out one on one. A couple of times I got him towards the bank before he broke me off and headed back to safety. Oh well, the fight was real, and though I was going to release him anyway, it would have been nice to land him.

  I stuck around the area casting out trying to fool another. Down creek I noticed a couple of fellows caught 2 steelhead not too far from where we entered the creek. They had been there for a while. After about 20 minutes they waded out and headed upstream. I was already casting my way towards the spot but kind of hurried a little faster to get there before anyone else.

  By now the sun was showing through the overcast sky but the water was still tinted enough not the expose the fish out further. The water didn’t look too deep on the other side, along the far bank, but on occasion I could spot a tail fin or two cutting the surface so I knew they were out there. A far cast, with a Triple Threat, out from the bank didn’t take too long of a drift to get a taker. The way the line took off it was if the steelhead swiped it like a Barn Swallow swiping a bug out of mid-air. He headed straight for the far bank and stopped abruptly, raised its head out of the water trying to throw the hitched hook. Not being successful, he sprinted upstream like the start of a race with a gun shot. Not too far he shot completely out of the water, forward, and his wet rainbow side glimmered in the sunshine. He plopped into the water like a mushroom anchor being thrown overboard. Once the rod sections bowed with a tightened line again he turned and swam down creek. He gave a couple of head shakes, as if to check to make sure I was still hanging on, as he swam. It took a while but I finally got him calmed down enough to get him to the bank safely. 

 

  It always feels good getting one to handle!

  It wasn’t too soon after that I knew I had a fatty on. This one wasn’t as quick and active as the other but its weighty body had the butt of the fly rod in my gut trying to keep leverage on him. The rod bent deep at times when he took off unexpectedly. He roamed around outward, as if he was looking for help, to help get him loose. He didn’t have any success with finding a friend to help im and I got him in to handle also.

 

 Less than 20 minutes I had a chromer showing off its skillful aerobatics in mid air with more moves than a trapeze artist. Each time she entered the sky she sparkled like being dressed in sequin under circus spot lights! 

 

 I must have been at the right spot for feeding time.

  I lost one somewhere out there after a hectic fight. I scored one more to my hand before 1:00. It was if bells chimed and brunch was over. 

 

  After that things slowed down dramatically. I tried everything from sucker spawn, Glo-bugs, wet flies and nymphs with only a quick tap or two I couldn’t hook up too. The best I did was with streamers. Others I talked to weren’t doing any better either. Most of the fellows commented I should have been here yesterday. “The water was cloudier and the fish were biting.”

  About 3:30 I called it a day and headed back to the parking lot. The air was getting chillier and the clouds moved in covering the sun. Along with that the wind picked up and the abundance of falling and the flow of leaves made it irritating trying to find water between them. I’ve been out since 7:30 and the spurt of fun I had was fulfilling enough I left on a good note like after singing the last hymn before leaving church!

~doubletaper