Tight
Lines
9/15/2019
The
Clarion River was voted PA’s 2019 River of the Year. From swimming,
kayaking, canoeing, float tubes and fishing are some of the water
sports enjoyed on the river. Just relaxing under the sun in a beach
chair in the river on a hot day enjoying a cold beverage and enjoying
the scenery is enough to forget about time! From rte 36 at Cooksburg
all the way to Hallton one can follow River Road along the river and
enjoy the forest and scenic river on a well maintained blacktop road.
I would say this is one of my top motorcycle rides to get away from
the hustle and bustle of common day life and traffic.
Did I
say fishing? I have caught smallmouth bass, walleye and trout in the
river with both fly rod and spinning gear. There’s nothing like
float tubing my way downstream with my fly rod in hand casting
poppers along the shoreline for smallmouth bass. Catfishing is a lot
of fun also. Whether I fish in waders or wet wade it is always
enjoyable.
I pulled onto the gravel area along the forest. I specifically bought my Winston 6wt Vapor rod for fishing the river. The 9 footer casts weighted streamers as well as foam/cork poppers. Also when I’m fishing for trout it will cast dry flies without any problems at all for some distance even under windy conditions.
I
pieced together the Winston rod and fit it with an Orvis reel and
weight forward line. I packed my vest with streamers and poppers for
smallmouth as well as Caddis, terrestrials and some big Mayflies for
trout. I never know what’s going to be active so I try to carry
enough stuff for both.
I walk
down the path, through the forest, to the river. The water is flowing
peacefully without a human in sight between the green forest
hardwoods as far as the eye can see. The sun is shining brightly with
puffs of clouds slowly floating under the bluish sky above.
Uncontrolled currents develop, clear across the river, with the
flowing water over rocks and submerged boulders. I light up my first
stogie and take in the setting that surrounds me. The constant melody
of the tumbling water and birds chirping in harmony makes for a
serene place to spend the afternoon.
I
take my first step into the river and water flows around my boots and
wading pants. The water is cool and not as warm as I would have
expected in September. The chilly nights and occasional rain has kept
the water at a nice temperature for fishing as far as I am concerned.
I wade along the shoreline upstream to where the riffling water exits
the more turbulent flow. My intentions are to trout fish up river in
an area across stream where I have caught quite a few rising trout in
the past. The water looks shallow enough in places above the faster
current that I should be able to wet wade over towards the far bank
without it being too risky. For now though I fasten a Woolly Bugger
to my 4x tippet and cast out into the riffling tail out below the
more aggressive flow. Within three cast I feel a hard grab and the
line tightens. As I play the fish, through the riffling water towards
me, I can almost bet it’s a trout by the way it fights. Well, I’ll
never know as it gives a hard head shake and I’m left with a limp
line and no fish.
Within
five more casts I watch as my floating line swings the bugger through
the current. The floating line shows signs of slack in the cross
currents. I look for any sign of a take. As the line finishes the
swing downstream I start to take in slack and the line shoots towards
the bank. It draws tight and I can feel a fish swimming aggressively
with the bugger. I pull back on the rod to set the hook and play him
in the shallower water below me. I can see it’s a nice size trout.
He fights for his freedom in the shallows and somehow gets himself
unattached from the hook. I watch as he darts back into the main flow
of the river!
I
stick around for another 10 minutes or so trying to coax any more
fish but am unable to convince any. I wade out and look upstream.
It’s about 50 yards to where I want to reenter the river to be able
to cross to the other side. Between that point and me is a section of
calmer water that rolls and waves over near surface boulders and
rocks like wind rows of an ocean tide. Not the ideal place for trout
but a better place where a bass might be holding. As I walk up the
bank, on dry land, I stop now and then and cast a line out into the
open water. I watch a small bass chase the bugger within a few feet
of me but isn’t aggressive enough to grab it.
Upstream I step into the calmer current and begin wadding across the
river to get within casting distance of the far side shore. I have
had good success with catching trout in the section of water and had
some great dry fly action as well. I take my time and keep conscious
mind to the river bottom beneath my felt wading boots. As I cross, the
river water comes up to my thighs in spots though the undercurrent
isn’t as noticeable as when I am in the shallower sections below my
knees. I keep on the upstream side of the faster rumbling current as
I cross. When I get to within casting distance I feel for a good
foothold and contemplate how to fish the area.
The
smokey white clouds above move slowly beneath the blue sky letting
the sun shine through without much shadowing upon the water. Upstream
the water surface is calm and bright but ruffled like wrinkled satin
bed sheets.
I start with a Woolly Bugger and add weight as needed to get my bugger down. My casts are across stream toward a downed log. They are overhand casts with a big loop. Someone watching would probably think I wasn’t very good at casting since I wasn’t throwing tight loops. The idea of large loops is that when the weighted streamers fall in faster current the weighted streamer will drop deeper before the current grabs a hold of the fly line and starts it in its swing. I add weight to the leader as I see fit to get the Woolly Bugger deeper yet. It takes some time off the clock before I finally get hold of a nice rainbow that takes the bugger. I carefully play him out of the faster run to my left and get him coming in on my right in the slower but deeper water. He is pretty frisky but the 6 weight keeps the pressure on him and he comes in quite calmly.
For
some time the trout don’t seam to be cooperating. I switch over to
a Clouser Minnow pattern. To my right, looking downstream, is
shallower but with faster current and deeper pocket waters behind
boulders. I cast the Clouser into the shallower flow with rocks and
riffling current keeping the rod tip up so the weighted barbell eyes
won’t drag the bottom and snag. As the line and Clouser swing to
the tail out I drop the rod tip and let the Clouser swing deeper to
the end of the drift. From there I make a couple quick strips like
the Clouser is getting away. About my forth cast the line tightens
with a sweeping tug and the rod tip arcs towards the tight lining
fish. I can feel the weighty fish pulling the tension line through my
fingers and reel and hold on to the cork grip keeping the rod high
and arced. The fish doesn’t change directions as quick as the
rainbows but more of a forceful pull almost forecasting in which
direction it is going to take the fight. I am pretty sure it is a
smallmouth just the way it acts. I take some time playing the frisky
fish and calming him down. Like most smallmouth once they tire out
they don’t have much energy left for a forceful get-away escape
once they see the net like a nice size trout has.
As it
gets long in the day and for the past couple of hours the air
temperature is heating up with the glowing sun. I notice a few small
caddis appearing now and then and it isn’t until I see my first
rise that gets my brain telling me “it’s time to coax some fish
on a dry fly!” I mean, this is why I came out today for and I’m
not going to end the day without casting a few dries. I see one riser
isn’t too far and easy casting distance from where I stand. It is
rising along a seam on the far side of the faster wavy run about a
foot or so this side of the fallen logs. I knot on a #14 caddis and
loop the offering to him. The rises are so sporadic I’m not sure if
he is all that hungry or just the temptation is too much at times he
can’t resist. I spend about 20 minutes trying to coax the fish to
take any of my caddis offerings to no avail. Down from the wavier
current I catch sight of two other risers. They are pretty far
downstream and it will take long and accurate casts to get to them.
They also are rising sporadically. There still isn’t many caddis
about so I’m really not sure what these trout are taking. I cast
downstream and pull line out of the reel letting my fly line and dry
caddis drift with the waves like a pinner would do just letting the
spool spin free with the current. I try this a few times and observe
just how the current will take the dry downstream in the flow. With
enough line out I make a strong back cast and the line and leader
springs free from the surface tension and into the air. I pull down
on the line and single haul for more speed. I turn my head and look
behind me as the fly line extends and starts to straighten with the
tapered leader following. When the time is right I bring the rod high
over my head and forwards and watch the weight forward line shoot
through the air towards the sporadic rising trout. After a few more
casts I come to the conclusion that the trout aren’t interested in
my caddis dries.
The
distant trout still keep rising on occasion more so than the one
closer to me.
“Maybe
a big ole hopper might get their attention?” I think.It is a hot September day and the grasshoppers have been coming out in the evening back home. The fish aren’t rising all that far from the bank and I am pretty sure they know what a grasshopper looks like and what they taste like. I open my hopper box and pick out one of my parachute hoppers. I knot it to my 4x tippet and douse the body with a good bit of liquid dry fly dope. I noticed with the caddis earlier that it would drift away from the wavy seam and into a slow eddy to the right. There it would drift slowly until a much stronger surface current would push it downstream without warning. Occasionally this was where one of the trout would rise.
I
first make a few casts near the down log not too far away. I have
plenty of slack in the line so the hopper will drift in the slower
current some before the wavy faster current grabs the fly line and
push everything down river in a faster dragging pace. Nothing appears
interested so I bring the hopper back to my hand. I dry it as best I
can with my handkerchief and dab a little more ointment onto the
body. With a couple of lengthy false casts, and a single haul, I
watch the weight forward fly line take the leader and offering down
river through the air. The hopper lands on this side of the wavy seam
and I watch the hopper surf the waves like a kid on a boogie board
surfing the low tide. Instead of the hopper turning into the slower
moving swirl it continues on some and starts to drag. I lift the line
out of the water and proceeded with another lengthy cast more towards
the slow eddy. This time the hopper touches down with a plop into the
eddy. I can’t hear the plop from where I stand but fishing these
hoppers often I know it plopped with a little sound effect. It is
nerve racking watching the hopper sit on the surface as it drifts
ever so slightly until a wave pushes it beyond and start to drag on
the surface. I move my rod tip towards the faster run on my left
before bringing the hopper back into my back cast. I don’t want to
drag the hopper and fly line across the eddy where the fish are
occasionally rising and spook them. Time and again I attempt to tempt
the fish with the hopper. Einstein said insanity is doing the same
thing over and over again and expecting different results or
something like that. I don’t think he ever fished.
I
watch the hopper get pushed away from the wavy current and lazily
drift into the eddy. The splash is a noticeable gulp on the surface.
I rear back the rod high in the air as far back as my arm can reach.
The long length of fly line rises instantly and I feel it tighten at
the tip of the rod. The fish dives deep and rattles the rod with head
shakes. I can feel right away this isn’t an average size trout. He
keeps deep and battles beneath swimming with force in different
directions at will. Line peels off the spool at times as I grip the
cork trying to keep it steady and arced. The trout takes a turn into
the wavy current and then turns and shoots across stream into the
slower deeper water. I move the rod in opposite directions trying to
keep side pressure on the fish to tire him out more quickly. He
finally stops straight down from me and gives a few head shakes
trying to dislodge the hopper. I start to reel in some line and he
slowly moves in my direction. I have him coming to me reluctantly so
I reach back for my net with my left hand holding the line tight
against the cork grip with my other hand. As I drop the net into the
water the trout shoots away from the net and speeds by me like a
Daytona 500 race car. I see the silver sides of the trout zoom pass
me and the pink lateral line is a quick blur like the sponsor logos on
the Daytona cars as they speed by right in front of you. He moves
into the slow moving water upstream. I’m not sure when he’s going
to stop so I keep the rod up and let line slip through the reel
letting him fight the drag and pressure of the arcing fast action
rod. He holds up and I’m sure I got him now. I slowly reel in some
line until I get about an inch or two of the fly line exposed from
the tip top. I grab the net out of the water and figure I’d just
back him into the net as I raise the rod. As I get him closer to the
net he turn swiftly and with force swims pass the net avoided it. The
leader rubs against the wooden sides of the net. Upon seeing that I
reach the rod outward hoping that it didn’t do any damage to the
tapered leader. I can feel my arms getting tired from the long day
casting and fishing and my wrist is weakening under the pressure. I
drop the net again and grab the rod with two hands.
There’s always a time when fighting a good fish for a lengthy time
that you wonder if you’ll get him to hand. Even if you are going to
release the fish unharmed back into the water. There are times that
success is achieved in just fooling the fish and hooking him. At
times a satisfying reward comes just having a good battling fish
fight before it becomes unhooked and swims away. At other times the
ultimate success is landing the fish!
The
trout doesn’t swim too far downstream before turning around facing
me. The tugging has virtually stopped and it is as if I can feel the
fish swaying its tail side to side in the oncoming current. I hold
tight to the cork grip with one hand while I reel in line bringing
the trout towards me. I keep the rod about level with the surface
water until I have about an inch or two of fly line exposed out of
the tip top. I grab the net with my left hand and hold it underwater
to my side. As I raise the rod tip up and behind me the rainbow rises
from its depth and I’m able to successfully get him into the net.
He splashes a bit in the net then settles for a picture.
I
carefully unhook the hopper from his mouth and make sure he is strong
enough to swim from my firm grip on his tail before letting him swim
free.
Well
that is worth a rewarding cigar. Relaxed now I notice the warmth of
the sun. I reach into my vest and pull out a cigar and lighter. I
take a few puffs and enjoy the aroma. I flex my arms and arc my back
and look downstream.
I use
the hopper, casting it out, a few more times before tying on a
weighted Woolly Bugger. I make one long cast of the bugger and my fly
rod folds. I’m not talking bowed or arced, it folds like a
collapsible wading staff. When I get everything within sight and in
my grips I notice that the male ferrule of the tip section is still
intact. As I look at the female ferrule of the next section it is
split down the side. The only conclusion I can come up with is the
two joining parts were loosening from casting the weighted buggers
and fighting that big trout. Finally the loose fitting sections
couldn’t handle the load of the cast and instead of the top section
slipping out on the forward cast it flexed the shaft, causing the
split. I’m done!!! I have no way of patching the rod to keep using
it. I grab the rod pieces and wade back across the river current to
the bank.
When I
get on dry land I stand for a long moment puffing on the stogie. From
being in the water for hours with the current constantly pushing
against my legs, I feel as if I am still moving. Even while walking
through the forest and up to my truck my legs feel wobbly.
At the
truck, under the sunshine, I drop the tailgate and pop open a much
wanting cold beer. I change clothes while enjoying the cold brew
while finishing off the stogie. The Winston Vapor rod has a lifetime
warranty and I’m hoping it can be fixed. I sure am going to miss it
if it can’t be and a replacement isn’t the same!
~doubletaper
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