The 12:15 Rainbow

The 12:15 Rainbow

4/27/2020

 “The fly line was just about at the end of the swing when the line just stopped. It was like a steelhead sucking in a sucker spawn in front of its nose and just sitting there. I gave a yank on my fly rod. The line straightened and I felt the rod flex deep into the mid section.!!!”

 I was up at 6 a.m.. I made breakfast and decided to tie some Picket Pins and BH Woolly Buggers before going out. The last time out the trout hammered the Picket Pins like hungry Iguanas in a cage with a bunch of live crickets. At 9:30 I checked the thermometer and it was 48 degrees and I noticed it was a bit on the windy side.

 

 When I got to the creek I decided to fish upstream from where I had been the days before. I noticed many other fishermen fishing up stream. Probably because it was a lot closer to the road and easier access. I parked along the roadway and put on a heavy flannel before getting my chest waders and rain jacket on. The chill of the wind was much colder than the actual temperature.

I walked along the road and dipped into the flowing creek. I immediately felt the cold April morning water around my legs. My intentions were to cross the creek and fish towards the road side where i’ll have plenty of backcasting room away from danger. I crossed the creek successfully and found the other side was deeper than I expected. The water flowed around my thighs and after a while felt like I was soaking I a fridged bath. The gusts of wind, more often than not, not only made casting difficult but whipped through the air like employees opening double doors in the morning of a snowy breezy winters day. I spent a half hour or so with 3 strikes and no trout to the net. I know it was early, windy and cold but I would have expected a little more action being the first to offer the trout a morning meal. I was using a Woolly Bugger but I couldn’t even get any takes on nymphs either. I knotted the Woolly Bugger back on and decided to wade and fish my way to the shallower water where I can cross and get to me truck.

So, there I am slowly, step by step, casting the bugger across stream, in a cross wind in no specific area trying to cover as much water as possible. I watch the floating fly line arc downstream pulling the swinging bugger under the surface with the current flow. I’m about 50 yards from the shallow riffles. The water has a milky tea stain to it. I can see the bigger submerged boulders and have a feeling the water, mid stream, is getting shallower. One drift I finally get a sharp take on the swing. I yank the rod back behind me and the line tightens with a frisky, battling trout on the other end. He fights against the current but I have no problem bringing him to the net. He’s a nice size trout at that. I unattached the hook from its lips and let the trout swim free.

 

  Hmm, maybe I found a honey hole that maybe no one ventured this far downstream. I spent maybe 5-10 minutes casting into the general area. I switch from the bugger to Triple Threat patterns without another strike. I reattached the Woolly Bugger and continue on wading, stopping now and then, and casting out.

  I hadn’t moved very far from where I caught the last trout. The wind had died down a bit and I got a good long cast beyond mid creek. I let a little more line out to let the bugger swing a little further downstream. The fly line was just about at the end of the swing when the line just stopped. It was like a steelhead sucking in a sucker spawn in front of its nose and just sitting there. I gave a yank on my fly rod. The line straightened and I felt the rod flex deep into the mid section. I tightened my grip around the cork handle like I was trying to see how hard I could squeeze one of those hand therapy balls. All of a sudden, looking down creek, a belly of a trout came to the surface splashing and appeared to tumble frantically. I got a glimpse of the red stripe along its side in a fraction of a second. I could feel every jolting tug through the rod shaft. He submerged but surfaced again tugging furiously. After a short he decided to swim in an arc up creek away from where I stood. I kept the rod up as the rod tip pointed behind the swift moving trout trying to keep the least amount of line dragging in the water. With a head tug, against the rod resistance, it turned down creek and swam with the current. My right wrist was locked and my forearm muscles were tight as I tried to hold the rod steady. I let tension line run through my fingers keeping the rod arced towards the fleeing trout. Short of where we started the battle he turned and gave a couple of quick short jars before swimming side to side facing the current. I cautiously start to reel line in while keeping tension and trying not to give him any unneeded line. I didn’t want a bunch of line laying on the surface when I got him closer to me. I knew the drag was near set correctly should he decided to burst away with force.

I had him coming my way a little shy of midstream but not yet across from me. I let him flex the rod at will but trying to not let him take any more line. He turned downstream and swam pretty much straight down creek from my rod tip as I kept the rod practically horizontal with the water. About 10 or so yards he was just below the surface when I finally got a good eyeball on him. His long body and muscular looking girth was no doubt the heaviest rainbow I ever had hooked. I though “I need a bigger net!”

  I was about 30 feet from the bank but wasn’t sure what I would encounter below the surface in the knee deep water. I took out my net and let it dangle in the water while I tried to get the big boy closer. Upon seeing me, I assumed, he scooted passed me a short distance as I gave him no line to go any further. He turned under the rod pressure and I grabbed my net with my left hand. My right wrist was locked and my forearm was as stiff as a cocked bow string. I knew trying to tail net him was a bad idea. There was no way of trying to body netting hin due to his long length. My only hope was to get his head deep into the net first with his body above his head to keep him from flipping out.

I moved the rod upstream and lifted it high. The big trout followed the force of the arced rod into the current. I had the net setting in front of me and lowered the rod tip giving him leeway. He turned to swim downstream but I scooped him up, head first, into the net. He flipped and fumbled in the net. I started to back up towards the bank trying to balance the net with one hand trying to keep the rainbow in it. I finally tucked the rod handle and reel under my arm pit and with both hands cradled the net keeping it balanced wading towards the bank side. Successfully I made it to the bank. I dipped the net into the shallow water briefly as to give him a breath or two of water before putting him on the bank half in the wet net.

 

I have a 22” golden trout, a nice heavy brown trout from the Clarion River I caught on a dry fly and 19” brook trout all caught on a fly rod hanging on a wall at home. To be honest if I would have had a rope or was on the truck side of the creek I may have had second thoughts about leaving him go. I lifted the net to the shallow bank waters and tailed him with my hand. When he gave me a good swift tail kick I released my grip and he swam a few feet up creek. He hesitated there for a moment or two, as if he couldn’t believe I let him live, before swimming off into the main body of water.

 

I reached into my flannel pocket and pulled out a rewarding cigar. An Aging Room Connecticut Churchill would do just fine! 

  I lit it up and looked at my watch. If it was later in the afternoon I may have just called it quits. It was only 12:15. I still had plenty of time to fish and there wasn’t any lasting fatigue in my body.

I fished till around 4:30. I caught trout on Woolly Buggers, Triple Threats and Picket Pins. Not many but enough to keep me entertained. About 4:00 trout started coming to the surface. I ended up hooking a couple of the smaller trout rising on a dry caddis.

  

 After the big catch I never got the thrill after hooking the 12:15 rainbow. It was like winning the red ribbon for the prize bull in the morning at the county fair and the rest of the day, since I was there, hanging around just to feed the animals.

~doubletaper