Big Stones on the 'Tuck'

 

Big Stones on the ‘Tuck’

2/04/2021

 

  When I got to the Tuckasegee River, nicknamed the ‘Tuck’, early Thursday morning the river had gone down quite a bit from the day before. The sun was brighter also and there was less cloud cover. It might had been a little, just a little warmer outside but when I stepped into the river it was just as cold as I remember. I casted out a Woolly Bugger and within 4 casts I caught a frisky rainbow. 

 

 For the next half hour I couldn’t get a strike on any of my assorted colors of Buggers or other streamers. Pretty much how my morning went the day before.

  The day before I only caught 2 rainbows. One on a bugger and one on a little olive nymph.

 

 I tried nymphs, buggers and even San Juan worms but the trout didn’t appear to be hungry or I didn’t have the right snacks for them to enjoy that day.

  On the drive over today my son, Jesse Pete, stopped by a tackle shop and asked them what the trout in the ‘Tuck’ might be feeding on. After Pete told me what they told him I figured out I would give it a try.

  The guy told him size #10 or #8 stoneflies. The day before I was using #16’s and #14 stones without any takers. I dug in my fly boxes and came up with #12 2x-3x long black stoneflies. I’m not sure if I ever used such big stoneflies in Pennsylvania but I did have them. With a #18 BWO nymph and one of these black stoneflies I felt like a kiosk  employee offering some kind of free tasty tidbits in the grocery isle at a busy supermarket.

  The second trout I caught was a small rainbow on the olive nymph in the slower water out from the bank. Once I got a good mend and drift in the deeper faster water I started to hook up to bigger trout on the black stonefly.

 

 I took a break from the action and took out an Alec Bradley Post Embargo Robusto. Having smoked one before I knew the Honduran wrapper leaves a good flavor on the lips while the medium body Nicaragua and Honduras long leaf filler gives a smooth draw, enjoyable smoke and pleasant aroma. 

 

  I watched the indicator drift on this side of the seam bobbin on the small waves like a lost bottle going out with the tide. It passed by me and I let slacked line out to try and keep it drag free. Maybe after 6 or 7 yards the tear drop indicator dipped so I yanked the rod angling it over my head and right shoulder. The 5 weight 9’ rod tip section arced with the instant tight line. The trout took upstream like a torpedo and I gripped the cork handle with both hands tightly as if not giving up on a tug of war rope. I felt the spool spin line out as the trout continued its course upstream and towards the middle of the river. It wasn’t fishy wild but by the arc in the midsection of the fast action rod and the strength I was using to keep the rod up I knew this wasn’t a small dude. Once it got into the rolling waves out a ways it started to give some jolting tugs. The top rod section arced and recoiled with each forceful jolt. He turned with the current and swam downstream keeping his distance. I stood my ground and moved the rod at an angle always trying to keep side pressure on him. Down stream he turned and forcefully start tugging again and again moving ever so slightly nearer in my direction. I suppose once he figured out the tippet wasn’t going to break and the guy holding the rod was experienced with this kind of fight he decided to make a dash upstream again a little deeper. He took off like a torpedo upriver and I could tell he was swimming deeper.

  There are many sharp shallower rocky ledges in the Tuckasegee where, if one is careful, can practically wade out to midstream or even get close enough to cast to the other bank keeping on the ledges. I thought that was what he was up to, trying to run deep and get my line frayed on one of the ledges.

  I grabbed the line with my left hand, just out from the reel, and lifted the rod high keeping the least amount of line in the water and as straight to the fish as possible while keeping pressure on him to turn around. I felt the rod curve a little deeper as I moved the rod butt into my gut. I was hoping my knots wouldn’t fail. He moved towards my direction some and then turned downstream again. I started to reel in line as fast as possible trying to keep a bow in the rod. He swung in a big sweeping arc downstream towards my wake from the current flowing around my waders. He held up a bit with one tug before swimming towards shore trying to surprise me. I swung around with the rod facing the bank as quick as he tried to outsmart me. He started to swim upstream between me and the bank but then bolted across the current back towards mid-river. I brought the rod high quickly to keep tension as he passed and then lowered it some once he passed by always trying to keep a bow in the rod. This was a cunning old trout no doubt and I wonder if anyone ever got him to net in his old age. He turned down stream once more and I gave him a little line out maybe teasing him in the process. Then I felt it was my turn to trick him and see how much energy he had left. I took a few steps backward and angled the rod upstream. He reluctantly gave in and started to move upstream and I felt I was trying to drag a log uphill. Then I swung the rod towards the bank and he followed but once he got in the shallower riffles he darted back out towards mid-river. He didn’t get too far as the rod curved into the midsection again and he stopped with the rod pressure. I turned the rod upstream and he started to make a wide arc swimming upriver. Once he got straight across from me I pulled the rod up over my head and started to reel in line. The pressure was too much and he turned down river with the current. I had him closer than I ever did before. I slowly brought in line as he kept his distance but was moving in front of me as I was facing the middle of the river. He swam passed me with a couple of tugs and tail swats and with that I took out my net. I had the line pinched between my right finger and the cork handle as I brought the rod high in the air as if stretching my pectoral muscles. The big bow backed up towards my direction facing upstream. I had the net behind him and as I lowered the rod slowly he unknowing was backing right into it. I watched to make sure his tail didn’t touch the net before making a quick move scooping him in the net.

 

  What a relief! Good long fight with a netted big fish. What more could I ask for? He took the big black stonefly. I took a sigh of relief, wet my hand and let him swim back into his domain.

 

  After letting him go I took the cigar from my clinched teeth, took a big breath of fresh air, thanked God and stuffed the stogie back between my lips. I checked the time and it was just before 12. My son was to arrive around noon.

 I continued to nymph fish and the big black stonefly didn’t disappoint.

 

 When my son showed up I gave him a couple of stoneflies and olive nymphs. We fished together till we decided to go. He caught one rainbow on a Woolly Bugger before we departed while I caught a couple more trout on the black stonefly.

 It sure was a fun day of trout fishing the 'Tuck'!

 

 ~doubletaper