'Purist' on the Wtaer

‘Purist’ on the Water
6/13/15

 

  It was time to try out my newest purchase; a 7’9” ‘Purist’ Wonderod Fly Rod. It calls for a 6 weight line. A little overkill for the trout stream I’d be fishing in but that’s what it calls for.
 The cigar cork grip fit nicely in the palm of my hand. I noticed immediately this glass rod was a lot whippier than the ‘Custom Pro’ rod I used earlier in the week. It could be because it’s 9” longer than the Custom Pro or that’s just the way the action is made. Anyway, I’m sure it would take a little time to get used to.
 There was a possibility of a passing thunderstorm so I decided to wear my light fishing rain jacket. I stuffed the pockets with the gear I figured I needed. I was going to be on the creek for maybe 5 hours or so and be pretty far away from the van so I also took a bottle of water. Along with that a few cigars and of course my camera. After attaching the Orvis mid arbor, with 6 weight fly line, to the down locking cork reel seat, it was about 1:30pm when I started down the path to the creek through the forest.

 

  I waited for the rod to load behind me and cast out, mid creek, into the wavy current run. The first drift through, of the Woolly Bugger, produced nothing. A cast further out, towards the far bank, dropped the bugger into the current and, with a little mend, sent it on its way. Wham! I felt the strike and watched the fiberglass rod bow with the tight line caused by a hungry trout. The trout tugged and pulled with the current as the ‘glass’ rod bowed and flexed effortlessly with the struggling trout. Swinging the rod towards my side of the bank, the trout swam out of the faster current and towards me. One trout netted and many more to follow, I hoped.

 

 

 After another catch I looked down creek and decided to try and coax a few trout in the deeper pool. I knew the best way was to keep twitching the rod tip now and then, in the slow pool, to put more action on the bugger. I caught a few more, and missed a couple, before moving along and getting away from the other anglers that were also fishing the same pool.

 

 Around the bend I came to a straight stretch of water. I pretty much know this creek like the back of my hand. With the water a little tinted and with good depth all around I figured the trout would be out from hiding along the banks and undercuts. Hopefully they would be scattered about and hungry so I can keep moving down creek and catching fish as I go.

  The forest boasts its green foliage along the creek banks under the bright sky. Unseen birds chirped among the variety of trees and brush. The creek flowed flawlessly to no end, vacant of human inhabitants, and as peaceful as a lone fisherman would want. 
 I made my way down creek staying in the shallower parts and fishing the deeper and faster runs. This meant crossing the creek often so I was careful of the loose small rocks or bigger rocks as I wade.

 The rainbow took the bugger as I stripped it in at small intervals. It was a sweeping take and I just happen to jerk the rod back at the right time. It struggled with the line beneath and even rose to the surface with splashes before I finally got it close enough to net.

 

 My cast was cross creek ahead of some overhanging leafy branches. It was more of a sidearm cast but with the slow action perfect timing and a lot of force was needed to keep the weighted bugger from dropping to close to the water before entering beyond. I watched the fly line and felt a short strike but not very forceful. I kept an eye on the rod tip and the next time it just so twitched I pulled back. The trout on the other end darted and scurried about under the pressure of the rod. It wasn’t long before a nice Brook trout came to net.

 

 Not moving an inch I cast again and another brook trout grabbed the bugger. He too scurried about with a little more pull and force. The Wonderod just did its thing of keeping the trout under control without any cause to worry about any quick jolts and breaking the tippet.

 

Down creek I got into a nice fight with a frisky rainbow. He took the bugger with a forceful grab and from there he went into a raging fit for such a smaller trout. He flipped out of the water twice and still had energy to battle some before coming in close enough to net.

 

 I was having a field day as trout after trout were targeting my bugger as I let it gently drift through the slow currents. In the faster runs I let is run deep and it wasn’t until the bugger slowed to a smooth drift that the trout were able to get a good grip on it.
 The Brook trout would scurry about making the rod tip dance in every direction. The frisky rainbows fought with vigor always trying to throw the hook.

 

 I don’t carry a watch but I figured it had to be getting near 5:00 by now. The air was hot and it was quite warm in the rain jacket. After taking a gulp of water I decided it was time for a smoke. I lit up a Torano and relaxed a bit before proceeding.

 

 My cast was along the far bank up against some deadfalls. The flow of water rippled along side the exposed wood and through a few outward branches. As the Woolly Bugger cleared the branches, beneath, the arc in the line started to straighten. I held the cork firmly waiting any second for a take. Sure enough I saw the line swing away with a sweeping, tugging yank. I held the rod high as I had a lot of line out. The trout fought fearfully but again the Purist rod gave no inkling of undo pressure as it only flexed deeper in the shaft controlling the situation at hand.

 

  Down stream I came across a couple of risers. I didn’t notice anything on the water except a few midges now and again. I contemplated after a few more caught fish on the bugger and decided to try my beetle pattern.

 Right across from me, along the far bank, a fish rose. I didn’t have much casting room behind me because I was lower than the bank and tall leafy bush branches extended along the bank. I cautiously waded down creek and attempted to cast the beetle within his feeding zone upstream.
 Now, dry fly fishing I find one of the hardest things is for me to hook a fish casting up creek.
 I looped a forceful cast up across creek far enough the beetle should enter its path. The current was a little slower near the bank but there should be enough time for the beetle to gently flow into the feeding zone before undo drag pulled the beetle down creek.
 I watch as the beetle got closer and soon enough a trout rose and sucked it in. I whipped back the rod and the line tightened with an unsuspecting trout turning with the hook set. The small trout playfully tried to get away but was no match for the 6 weight rod. A nice little brown trout came to net.

 

 I wasn’t really sure what time it was by now but I knew it was getting towards evening. I would have about a half hour walk back to the van at the most once I find my way to the road. With trout rising I wasn’t about to leave just yet. It appeared to be their feeding time. I caught about 5 more before I headed on back down stream.

 

 

 Before getting to the road I caught two more trout. I noticed the brightness of the sun, which was behind clouds at the time, was nearing the tree tops atop the mountain. After searching for a way to reach the dirt road, through tall grass, brush and downed trees, I came to a small animal trail. I followed this, in the opposite direction of the way I wanted to go, that finally lead me to the road. Up the road a ways I walked through the forest again, crossed the creek and headed towards the van. Seeing the van was a beautiful sight at the time. I knew a cold Scotch Ale was in my cooler and I popped off the cap just after I opened the side doors.

 

 It was about 8:02 when I looked at the clock. I’ve been out since about 2:00. It felt good to finally sit down and relax with a cold brew in my hand.
 The ‘Purist’ fiberglass Wonderod was a delight to fish with. I couldn’t even give an estimate on how many fish I caught and missed but it never got boring along the creek.

Cheers!

 

~doubletaper