Hot
on the Kettle
5/16/23
The
weekend was over and I wanted to get down to the creek where I’ve
always done well dry fly fishing so I got up early and had a good
breakfast. I figured the crowd of fishermen would be gone and, maybe
a day of rest for the fish, Tuesday would be a good day to challenge
the trout again. There weren’t many fishermen along the road side
and when I got down to the bridge there were only a couple guys
fishing. Up the dirt road I found a spot to park and assembled my
Icon rod for the time being. As I was stringing it up, behind my
truck, a guy and his son must have had golden trout fever. I’m not
sure how long they’ve been there but there was a golden trout
between them and I watched as they threw everything at the trout.
They threw live bait under bobbers, spinners and who knows what else
but the trout wasn’t moving a muscle towards anything they offered.
It was a wonder they didn’t accidentally snag the fish but they
were being good sportsmen. I dipped into and waded about shin deep to
give me some back casting room up creek from them. I snapped on a
Woolly Bugger and tossed it out there. I caught a couple on the
bugger before I switched to a March Brown. It was just after 10:00
and that’s usually when the March Browns start to hatch and come
off the water. I hadn’t noticed any surface activity, except for a
few small trout taking small caddis, but I was willing to take the
time to get the trout to rise.
Tossing
the March Brown out there I let it drift on the wavy surface. I
missed the first taker that surprised me but I was ready the next
time. With a whooping noisy surface take a trout grabbed it and took
off on the piercing. She battled beneath with good runs until her
last splashes were in my net. The March Brown was secure in the side
of her lip.
“1
down” I thought.
I
continued to cast the March brown out into the faster wavier current
and let it drift downstream in the slower waves. Occasionally I would
get one to rise and take it before a bigger wave drowned it. They
were quick frisky takes in the faster current so there was no time to
be looking else where. The suspenseful part was when the dry drifted
in the slower current. Times when I would see a fish rise to it and
back swim as if inspecting it under a microscope. Sometimes I think
they would actually nudge it to see if it was real and would take
flight but not take it. They’d refuse it all together and never
come up again after the first viewing. Just nerve racking. But every
once in a while I’ll get one that is curious enough to sip it in
off the surface.
For
quite a while I couldn’t get anything fishy to rise. I decided to
toss out a MB nymph and an MB emerger. I was just tossing the tandem
flies out there like I was tossing two pennies in a wishing well park
fountain. A trout grabbed it as hard as if it was a passing Woolly
Bugger at the end of the drift. Well, this could get interesting.
I
reached in my pocket and pulled out a stogie to bide the time. I
wasn’t sure how active the trout would be under the hot sun but I
figured I’d work underneath trying to coax any takers.
After
the spin fishermen left I had the section to myself for a while. I
fished my way downstream and knotted on a Woolly Bugger. Bait
fishermen always did well in the deeper slow water the wavy current
flowed into. Though the water was deeper I knew I couldn’t weight
the bugger too heavy and have to keep it moving because there just
wasn’t much undercurrent to move the bugger. The water was clear
but I couldn’t see far enough into the water beyond to notice any
hazards. For the next hour or so I did pull out a few trout that
weren’t too lazy to just let my bugger swim by without snacking on
it.
The
overhead sun was beating down its warmth. Looking upstream I could
almost see visions of heat waves hovering over the water surface. I
was pretty hot in my chest waders and was ready to cool off. Besides
it was as if it was half time and the players went back to the
dressing rooms to get out of the heat.
I
sat in the truck with the A/C on munching of a granola bar and
refreshing water. It was around 2:00 and I was debating what to do. I
could go back to camp for an early dinner and back out for the
evening. It was at least a boring 35 minute drive to where I was
right then and I really wanted to fish a late hatch, if possible,
where I am. On my drive downstream there wasn’t a vehicle in sight
anywhere around the bridge. It was hard for me to pass this chance to
fish the area by myself. With the open water and hardly any wind I
reached and assembled my Scott G2 9’ 5 weight fly rod. The medium
action was a relaxing light weight casting rod. My favorite dry fly
rod in no wind situations.
Out
in the water I made smooth casts casting out dry caddis and dries
trying to pinpoint my casts at surface flowing objects. It was good
to practice accuracy as I was preparing for an evening hatch. Another
fly fishermen showed up and waded into the water upstream a ways. It
kind of gave me a break from talking to myself!
I
knotted on a Woolly Bugger for the time being to pass the time
waiting for surface action. I caught a few more trout.
As
evening approached I looked up again and saw some big Drakes, I
figured they were, hovering above. There weren’t many by any means
but enough to get me a little excited. They were dark bodied, from
what I could see, with two extra long splayed tails. None got close
enough that I could see any color and as I searched on the surface I
couldn’t see and spinners floating. The fish apparently couldn’t
find any surface activity either. Just yet!
I
looked into my fly box and could only find one big, extended body,
parachute dry fly that could resemble a Green Drake or possibly a
spinner. It was getting dark and I knew I only had one chance to tie
my last fly on. While I was tying it on I heard fish starting to
rise. Anticipation mounted!
As
I looked out into the open water there were swirls here and there
with an occasional slurp. I started casting out upstream from the
swirls letting my dry drift into a feeding zone. It was aggravating
as if my offering wasn’t good enough. Time and again I would toss
it out and thought, “they can’t be that picky?”
Well,
enough was enough. It was getting pretty darker and there was no moon
to speak of. Just enough light on the surface for a slight glare of
moonlight. I saw another rise and tossed my drake pattern right on
the spot he came up. A fish grabbed it just as it plunked on the
water. I was quick with the hook set and finally caught one on top.
After
releasing the trout I thought that may be the trick on a moonless
night. Cast the dry right on their face and not try to drift it into
the strike zone. As soon as the dry hits the water the slight surface
commotion brings attention and they can spot the fly on the surface.
Wham,
another trout grabbed my drake as soon as it hit the water. After
releasing this one my parachute dry wasn’t very dry. Fish slime
pretty much soaked in. I tried to powder it dry but was no use. It
was too dark to tie anything on and I wasn’t much of a fan of night
fishing anyhow. I caught a couple night feeders and that was good
enough for me.
~doubletaper