Net Worth

 

Net Worth

4/12/2023

  I put on my chest waders once again. It feels like I’m putting on a space suite. I double knot my worn wading boot laces. I grab my 9’ 5weight Icon rod and jump, well slid, into the seat of my Dodge Ram and down the road I went.

  I caught a few trout the day before but not as if they were stacked up like a bunch of chickens in the coop waiting to be fed. They weren’t too active in the cold creek water until I pierced their lips. Then they acted like they got stung by a bunch of angry swarming bees. One time I thought I had a snag, and in trying to loosen it, I saw a flash of a fish roll. If it wasn’t for the sun shining down like a security motion light I never would have saw the flash. After that when my Woolly Bugger appeared to get ‘stuck’ I’d jerk the rod for a hook set. More than not I hooked a trout. My new, long, teardrop deep net netted the bigger fish without a problem.

 

 

  I stepped out from the grassy bank and into the shallow wavy creek and felt the cold water flowing around my ankles and shins of my chest waders. I carefully made my way down creek to deeper water casting a Woolly Bugger as I moved. There were already two fellows fishing down stream. One at the deeper honey hole and the other down creek quite a ways. Maybe 10 to 15 minutes went by before I got within casting distance of deeper water. Each of the bait fishermen only caught 1 trout each. I started fishing into the deeper section and caught one nice brown trout. 

 

  I wasn’t sure how long the bait fishermen were there but they hadn’t caught anymore and didn’t stick around too long. Once the sun cleared the mountain top it was bearing down like a UV tanning heat lamp. I figured I’d wade out to remove some clothes before a crowd shows up, but never did.

  Back in the creek I was knee deep, on a flat rock, fishing the honey hole section. The water around was at least chest deep in front of me and tapered off waist to knee deep to the riffles. There were plenty of boulders and nice size rocks strewn along the creek bed in this section. There were days I’ve watched bait fishermen pull 20-30 trout out between them. Even I’ve had some good 20+ days. The last few days though the trout just weren’t too hungry I guess? I was showing the fish everything from nymphs, streamers, wet flies and even sucker spawn. You would of thought I was trying to get some spoiled kids to taste the likes of Brussles sprouts, kale or a slice of liver? They wouldn’t have any of it!

  I stepped off the flat rock, in waist high water, and was drifting two stoneflies as I slowly cast and waded downstream. I wasn’t too far passed the flat rock when I got a snag, or at least I thought. I made an easy quick upward wrist jerk to get it released but it didn’t loosen. Another little harder lift and still nothing. I gave a couple forceful tugs and felt a wiggle in my arcing rod and the line started to slowly move outward in the deep section. I thought maybe I had snagged and loosened a branchy stick from the bottom at first. Then I felt a waver in the line like a fish tail wavering to keep balance. I gave a hard tug and with a hard tugging jolt back, the line moved away at a faster pace. The fish took off up creek then turned down creek a ways. I knew I had a good size trout on by the feel of it all but it wasn’t all that frisky, angry or an over aggressive fighting fish. It felt like I was like trying to drag in a river walleye while it was using it’s weight and pulling force trying to break the line. When I netted the nice size rainbow the hook was embedded into the fat of the trouts lip. Maybe his lips were so numb from the cold water he didn’t know he was hooked till he felt something pulling him in the direction he didn’t want to go and he wasn’t sure why?

 

  It took a while to get my next strike as I leisurely fished my way downstream. I was waist high in the middle of the creek casting a Woolly Bugger as far as I could towards the opposite bank. I’d cast across creek, cutting the cross wind with my fast action rod, and let the bugger swing deep. A trout grabbed the bugger within seconds after it hit the water. I yanked back and set the hook. The trout tussled and fought the line and arcing rod aggressively all the way to the net.

 

  Three casts later and another trout grabbed the bugger within seconds after it started to swing. You would of thought these trout haven’t eaten in days and competing for food as soon as something hit the water.

  The rod sections bowed a little more and the forceful tugging was more than I was willing to risk trying to bring him in right away. I let tensioned fly line slip through my fingers and let the drag of the spinning spool keep good tension on the fighting fish. It swam at a good distance up creek, stopped with a good tugging head shake and then turned down creek keeping his distance. The rod tip bounced with liveliness with the quick tugging head shakes and then bowed, tight lined, pointing toward the fleeing fish. I tightened the drag a couple of notches and the trout started to swim to my side of the creek. After a little more of a tussle I had him coming up creek towards my direction slowly like a remote control toy truck with the batteries draining. He passed me and swam about 20 feet up creek in front of me as I tried to keep side pressure on him. I kept him from swimming up creek any further when i moved the rod down creek. He rose just below the surface and turned with the current downstream. The light pink lateral line was easy to see with the sun shining down like stage lights. He tussled up and down creek as I drew him closer to the net and then scooped him up. 

 

Well that deserved a cigar. I reached in my pocket and took out a mild Ave Maria Toro.

 

 Within the next hour or so I hooked one more trout.

 

  After that I hooked the bugger to the rod hook keeper and waded to the bank. I took a couple of good swallows of water and headed back to the truck along the path through the scraggly forest.

  Back at camp I took a quick nap. I fished just out from the campsite and finished the day with another nice brown trout. 

 

  I cooked up a dinner of black bean burritos and nachos. A Black Butte porter tasted great with the Mexican style dinner.

 

~doubletaper