Hot on the Kettle

 

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