White Death Zonker Tute

 

White Death Zonker Tute

This is a White Death Zonker that is a staple for Erie Trib. Steelhead fishing and also works for trout.

Hook; # 8 Mustad 9671, 2x or 3x long 

Butt; Orange Thread

Body; Mylar Tubing

Overwing; Micro Rabbit Strip

Head; Black Thread Tapered

 

1. Thread base hook shank to back bend of hook with orange thread.

 

2. Body; Slip Mylar tubing around and to the bend of hook shank. Tie down with orange thread. (I knot this down with a whip finish or half hitch.

 

3. Overwing. Tie in rabbit strip over Mylar with orange thread as shown. Make a visible orange band and leaving a tail behind hook bend. Knot down and cut orange thread. I dab a little head cement on thread.

 

4. Tying front of Mylar; Trim Mylar behind eye of hook and thread wrap over Mylar behind eye of hook with black thread.

 

5. Trim front of rabbit strip to a point behind eye.

 

6. Wrap black thread around front of rabbit strip making a tapered head. Whip finish and dab with head cement.

 

7. Trim tail to desired length about ¼” to 1/2” behind tail.

 

8. White Death Wet

 

 ~doubletaper

 

 

Nothing Fancy

 

Nothing Fancy

10/22/2020

 

 With a little bit of rain the creeks came up. With a little bit of sun, a good mild stogie, some patience and a couple of no nonsense streamers the day went well.

  For the first few hours I and two other fellows I met in the parking area weren’t producing any fish. None of us could even say we confidently had a strike other than maybe a leaf or two. We all started with some kind of streamers and than switched to nymphs or just bottom drifting some other kind of pattern. Still we couldn’t produce anything.

  By early morning it was heating up fast with the clouds moving out of the full view of the sun. If it wasn’t for the cool water flow we were wading in we would have probably felt like marshmallows melting in a cup of hot chocolate. We ended up heading down to the faster flow of water where the two fellows started in the morning. They waded and fished along the bank side while I waded out towards the opposite side of the creek. It was maybe a half hour or so after that I finally hooked up with the first trout. The brown trout took a Woolly Bugger on the end of the swing. The water couldn’t of been no more than knee deep and strewn with small boulders and rocks. It surprised me but I was able to get a good hook set and bring the brown trout to the net.

  

 Well, with that catch it gave us all a little more confidence that the trout might decide to start feeding. It took some time before the next catch though.

  The guys had broke for lunch but I stayed fishing. There was a run of white water up creek so I decided to give it a try. I switched to a White Death, nothing too extreme or fancy. Just a pattern that is more noted for steelhead fishing up in the Erie Tribs. I cast it out near the far bank and would let it tumble and drift hopefully beneath the white water so a trout can see it. My second cast plopped the streamer in the slower current near the far bank. My fly line quickly caught the current and the streamer swiftly flowed into the white water rapids. I felt the sharp tug and reared back enough to get a hold of a frisky trout. I gripped the cork handle tightly and kept the rod about level with the water surface hoping the trout wouldn’t come to the rough water surface. The trout fought like a mutt not wanting to go in its pen on a tight leash. (I don’t own a dog but I seen this happen quite a few times.). I wasn’t too sure I could bring him out of the white water but I was happy enough at that point to at least tag another trout.

 I got him coming upstream and finally across from me. I turned the rod downstream and towards the bank behind me. He turned and swam down with the current until the pressure of the arced rod was too much for him. He turned facing upstream and I was able to get him between me and the bank where the water wasn’t as fast flowing. A quick sweep with my net and I had the frisky fighting rainbow safely in the confines of the net.

  

 After the release I slowly fished my way down, casting in the white water, hoping for another take. A little down further the white water turned into a good flowing wavy current. I could see some calmer sections here and there and spent time trying to fool another. I missed a take only because I thought I had a good size flowing leaf caught on the White Death. When I raised my rod, trying to release it, a fish splashed the surface and threw the hook. I learned a quick lesson to not assume every little jolt was a leaf. I worked the white water and rough current for some time before the other two fellows came back from lunch.

  We were talking across the creek while I was casting the streamer in the same area I caught the brown trout. I could see the boulders and flat rocks below the surface out pretty far. I maneuvered the streamer around the rock obstacles using the rod tip as a guide. The floating fly line drifted over the submerged boulders and rocks as the leader, tippet and streamer curry combed the area below. I felt the sharp tug and instinctively set the hook with a tight pull of the fly line and a sharp wrist set. The trout splashed on the surface immediately and submerged pulling and tugging the line and leader like a free flowing heavy twisted branch in a fast current. I got him under control and kept the rod tip higher enough to keep the line from rubbing up against any of those rock/boulder hazards. I got the rainbow netted with the streamer hanging out of its upper lip. 

 

 It didn’t look as wild as the others as it’s rainbow colors and body showed no sign of a long time inhabitancy. It did fight aggressively as the others though.

  It wasn’t long after that the other fellows left. I believe one of the guys did catch a trout. After they left I waded across creek and fished for another hour or so where the other fellows fished. I caught sight of a few splashes as if trout were feeding in the shallower water maybe going after minnows escaping just under the surface. I spent a half hour or so trying for one to attack my streamer with no takes. I hooked the streamer to my hook keeper on the rod shaft and called it a day. On the bank I took the time and looked around at the beauty of Autumn around me.

  Being Mid-October I didn’t really know what to expect but it turned out to be a beautiful day to fish and enjoy the outdoors!

 

~doubletaper

A Calm Along the River

 

A Calm Along the River 

9/29/2020

 

 The greens of summer, along the river and mountainside, are changing like magic into the bright colors of Autumn. Yellow, tan and red leaves start to cover the landscape from branchy hardwoods leaving the old reliable Hemlocks and fir trees to dot the land in their olive and green boughs. Acorns fall to Earth when hasty winds rattle the branches of the older Oak trees. Some fall upon the stony banks while others plop into the river water like the sounds of sugar cubes dropped into a cup of hot tea. Blankets of light grayish clouds move above like lazy smoke drifting with a breeze from chimney tops. Birds chirp here and there but it is the crows that loudly caw out like roosters on an early sunrise to bring in a new day.

 A drizzle of rain starts to fall from the sky like fine granules of powdered sugar sprinkled on top of buttered waffles. I cast my offering, from a fly line and tapered leader, into the lazy flowing river. Sometimes I cast a silver popper upon the water and strip it back with intermittent tugs imitating a dying bait fish struggling on the water surface. I’ll cast Woolly Buggers and let them drift or swing in the current like a night crawler or crayfish caught in the undercurrent. The line pulls away and I yank the rod upward. The rod tip arcs when the line tightens. A fish fights in the current as I play him to tire. My one hand tight around the cork grip and my other palms the spool to control the tension of the line. I wind in line on the spool as the fish swims up river. He pulls and fights the line below the surface with sharp tugs. I draw him to my net and lift the rod. The smallmouth splashes along the water surface till I scoop him up in my waiting net. I grin at the river smallie.

  After releasing him I take out a robusto stogie from my rain jacket and cup my hands to protect the flame from the oncoming breeze. Smoke travels with the breeze from the burning embers of the lit cigar.

 

 I wade and move slowly, in knee deep water, casting out into the river. I watch my line as the streamer swings. I switch to a popper hoping to bring a bass to the surface but it doesn’t happen. An hour or so goes by and I only have one small bass I can record as a catch.

  My stomach growls with hunger. I attach the hook to the hook keeper and make my way up the boulder strewn bank side to the road and then to the camper. The sun shines from over the mountain tops. Wet leaves glisten with the reflecting sun and scurry with the breeze. All’s quiet. there’s a calm in the air.

 ~doubletaper