Fighting Mad

                                                                             Fighting Mad

6/10/26 

 Sometimes I come across a congregation of trout in far off places in rivers and bigger creeks. Places where it’s not easy to get to except long walks to such places or wading across the stream. I’m not saying that others haven’t been there before it’s just not easily accessible. These are usually on the opposite side of the stream that can only be accessible when the water is low or by a watercraft such as canoe or kayak. I’m sure there’s no secrete spots that fishermen haven’t fished or most of the trout haven’t been caught, I’m just commenting that there are areas that aren’t fished very often.

 The sun was high and the temperature was in the upper 70’s I presume. Nothing was happening on top of the water. The water surface was almost as smooth as a mirror without any shadows and flowing slowly out from the camper. There hasn’t been any rain to speak of and many places the water was so shallow that I could wade across if I wanted to. The trout wouldn’t take a bugger or even wet flies. Maybe they remembered me from last week when I gave quite a few sore lips and they knew my imitation's? Even the trout along the far bank weren’t interested. Down creek a ways there was riffling wavy water that I figured haven’t been fished for some time being it wasn’t close to the road. If people did enter from the road they would have had to make their way through the forest of high weeds, hidden objects, downed tree trunks and limbs etc. If they wanted easier access, they would have to walk through my campsite and either wade down creek or follow the overgrown path of uneasiness. No one has been around for that lately. I waded down creek puffing on my cigar kind of anxious to give the riffling water a try. I figured it was well oxygenated and cooler water for the fish. The far bank looked deeper, maybe knee deep, so that’s where I was headed for. 

 I had a Woolly Bugger on the line and was going to see if any trout inhabited the area. My first two trout were doozies! They grabbed the bugger hard as if it was their first big meal in days and they weren’t going to let any other trout eat it before them. It was tough bringing them up against the current. When I was able to get them across from me it was as if they had another gear and turned down creek with a burst of speed. After netting the first two I couldn’t get another bite in the area.   

 Either the others were wary of my presence, seeing how the caught fish scurried around in panic, or the others vacated the area because of all the commotion?

 I continued wading the shallow riffles, casting the bugger and letting it skirt the area. Most of the time it would get hung up on the rocks and I’d have to go fetch it. Seeing down creek, from about half the distance of the creek to the far bank looked deeper than what I was wading in. I start casting towards the far side and let the bugger swing down creek into, what looked like, knee deep water or so. I wouldn’t say I found the honey hole, but I did find hungry trout that my bugger was too tempting to pass up. The first two fish I caught were small smallmouth. Maybe they were nearer to the bugger when it dropped into the water. After those two it was time for the big trout to feed. They must have scared the smallmouth away cause after the first two I never caught another smallmouth.

 Each trout I caught hit the bugger with a convincing tug. Once hooked they scurried the area down creek to the fact that I wouldn’t dare try to horse them towards me with the 4 weight Douglas rod and 5x tippet. They were strong fighters and worked the oncoming current to their advantage. Some of the rainbows would have enough energy to skyrocket out of the water shaking the line before reentry. When I did get them up across from me, they too had a burst of energy, turning and bolting down creek like a fired torpedo and I had to let line slip through my fingers. Eventually I got most of them to the net, but it was a struggle.  

 For about an hour and a half I was hooking up with some energetic good size trout.  

 By around 11:00 I had enough of the hot weather and the bite slowed down anyway. I wasn’t too crazy about fishing any further down creek. Beyond the fast water it opened up to a wide section of flat water with little current flow. I wasn’t sure how deep it was, but I figured if there were trout in there, they weren’t going to be too active. 

 I turned and waded to the bank. Seeing the hazard conditions on the forest floor and hillside to the road I decided to just wade the bank up to easier access to the road. By the time I got to the camper I was hot, sweating and thirsting for a cold drink. It was 80+ degrees on the thermometer I hang on the outside wall off the camper under the awning away from direct sunlight. 

 It was lunch time and a cold brew. 

~doubletaper

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