A Glass Action

 A Glass Action

6/04/24

 I just figured I'd go vintage. I took out the old glass Wonderod fly rod and fitted it with the old Martin Classic with Cortland Sylk fly line. I donned my ole' fedora hat, vest and gabbed some cigars. I walked down the dirt road to where I wanted to start my fishing excursion. 

 Camping in the ANF there's always a mountain creek to fish instead of a river or bigger stream. Some are stocked with trout while other small brooks are just plain wild. I do believe, during high, warm or dirty water conditions trout move out of the river and bigger streams and swim up into these smaller creeks where clearer cooler water prevail. I was going to get me some.

 It was a bit chilly morning being in the 50 degree range. The sun was rising but still behind the mountain side heavy forest trees. The creek is a bit wider, with pocket waters, than the narrow creeks that you can find a place to cross without getting wet. The creek gets stocked twice a year and I can usually find some holdovers. I always figure there are adventurous trout that swim up from the river also.

  I crossed the chilly water and walked down the path to whee I wanted to fish. I positioned myself under a canopy of tall trees that overhung the creek. The water before me was under the canopy also and with the sun rising over the hill top, across from me, the area I'm fishing will be shaded all morning and into the afternoon.

 I casted a Woolly Bugger across and let it drift, in an arc, down creek. Near the end of the drift something grabbed it so hard it actually ripped it off like a street bandit stealing a purse right out of a woman's hand and disappearing in a cloud of dust. I thought maybe I didn't tighten the knot but when I reeled the line in there wasn't a curl at the end of my tippet. Now I questioned the tippet that I left on there from a year ago. I nipped off the old tippet and knotted on a section of 5x.

 I saw a few fish rising to tiny midges that were fluttering just above the water. I wasn't sure what was going on bellow the surface but I wasn't interested. I knotted on a caddis and dabbed it with dry fly juice. I missed three quick takes up creek in the faster current and missed one just in front of me. I brought in the line to make sure the hook still had a point. I found when using a #16 or smaller hook the hook gap isn't very wide. I grabbed my hemostats and tweaked the hook bend just enough so the point is to one side of the hook eye. This widens the gap just enough to make a difference in quick takes. 

 I casted outward and let the caddis ride on the wavy water. A trout snapped at it and this time I had a good hook set like a magnet on steel. The trout went under and the glass rod bowed some. I could tell the trout wasn't that big and got him to the net quite quickly.

  It's always nice to get the first trout soon after I start fishing. I pulled out my first cigars a little after 8:00. Just a mild smoking Fuente Deluxe. 

 

 I lit it up and looked over the water. A few more trout started to rise but I still didn't see anything on the water except those tiny midges skipping and pestering the trout below. It wasn't like one trout was in one place constantly but just now and then. Maybe it was if the trout got tired of being pestered by these nuisance midges that they decide to take a swat at them like us when we are pestered by tiny bugs flying around our face that we take a swat at them.

 I made a cast down creek and let the caddis drift drag fee. I watched it waver over the subtle waves. I saw a swirl just before my caddis disappeared and twitched the glass rod back. The glass rod arced with a tight line. When I went to pull back on the rod a little more the glass rod bowed into its butt section. I knew then this wasn't some little rainbow. I pulled back on the rod a little stronger to make sure I had a good hook set. In reply the trout gave a couple of hard tugs before it's run. The rod arced and rebounded with each jolt and the Martin reel sounded off with clicking as the trout took off down and across creek. I held the rod just high enough to keep as much fly line out of the water as possible. He tugged his way across creek and then bullied his way upstream. When I say bully meaning he was in control. I had no stiff resistance with the glass rod to force him my way. He was only able to swim up creek so far as the water got shallower and stonier. He headed my way, mid-creek, and turned down with the current. I brought in line quickly keeping a good tight line on him. I could feel the strength of the trout within my right hand clutching the cork handle. My left hand kept tension on the fly line keeping the trout from running freely at will. Down creek the trout turned and gave a couple of head shakes and the glass rod twanged and flexed like a tether ball pole under duress. Holding the rod and line tight the trout finally started to give in to the resistance and started to swim up into the current. Just out in front of me, I could see enough below the current, that I had a nice lengthy brown trout. I moved the bowing rod upstream and he followed. I held the fly line firmly between the cork grip and my fingers while I reached for my net with my other hand. I moved the arcing rod down creek and the brown trout turned and, before he was able to react, I scooped him in the net. Wow! I never expected to hook a nice brown trout in this mid size mountain creek.

  After that I stuck with caddis flies and picked off a few more tout on the #18 caddis. I caught a couple smaller brown trout also. About 10-1030 I saw rainbows moving up form the warmer calmer water into the riffles in front of me. It was if they heard the ice cream truck ringing its bell and wanted a cold snack. They stopped and were holding near the bottom as if waiting for the truck to reach their block. I casted the caddis out in front of them. I watched a couple trout rise in curiosity but refused and turned away as it drifted by. Something wasn't right, as if it was the wrong flavor, but at least I knew they were interested. 

  Now, some of the 'experts' say when you get refusals or not getting any strikes underneath to go smaller with your offering. Generally I do the opposite when it comes to dry flies, I'll knot on a size bigger. If a trout doesn't want to waste its energy rising to a small tidbit snack they just might want a meal they can sink their teeth into. Lets face it, if you're really hungry are you going to but a Popsicle or want an ice cream sandwich? 

 The trout I could see were still refusing my bigger offering. I thought, though I couldn't see any trout further out, there might be others that came upstream for a snack. I made a cast a little further out and you would of thought a walnut fell from a tree ranch when the surface erupted on my bigger caddis. I reared back the glass rod and it bowed again with a tight line and an angry trout on the other end. The trout came to the surface trying to unhook himself by doing breakdancing moves on the surface. Being that that didn't work he went under and came back up leaping into the air. I'm not sure what kind of music he was listening to but he did a twisting somersault and plopped back into the water. He tired himself out quite quickly and I got the nice size dancing rainbow in the net.

 I continued to cast out and found there was a neighborhood full of rainbows that came upstream to snack out.  Each one were hell raisers that fought eagerly as in a wrestling tournament. Some went air-born while other stayed below trying to surprise me with some wrestling move tactics that I hadn't seen before. 'It didn't work!'

   In time I'm not sure if the trout got tired of seeing my caddis but I wasn't getting any more takers. There were still a few trout rising to something small on the water I couldn't see. I decided to knot on a #18 Blue Quill and that got their attention. I picked off a couple more rainbows that sipped the Blue Quill like it was an easy snack and fooled another nice brown trout. 

 

   There was this one trout feeding almost directly down creek from me. He wouldn't take my caddis earlier but I thought maybe he'd take my Blue Quill. With the sun glazing the water I knew it would be hard for me to see the little dry fly as it drifted under the sunlight. I figured I'd give it a try anyhow. Most of the trout I was catching on the Blue Quill were just sipping it with a swirl on the surface and I would react with a quick hook set.

 I casted the little offering and let it drift down creek not knowing if it was sitting upright or not. I only had an idea where it was by casting it so many times I was able to calculate how far it was from the end of my fly line. My third cast down creek I saw a swirl on the calmer water. I reared back on the glass rod. There was no doubt in my mind I had another bigger trout when I felt the glass rod bow into the butt section...

 I locked my wrist, keeping the rod at an angle, and let the glass keep pressure on the fleeing trout. Line shot through the small rod eyes and the reel clicked loud like the last 10 seconds of a time bomb! The trout, after pulling down creek, turned towards the far bank. He tugged 3/4 cross creek and then slowly swam upstream into the riffles. I had side pressure on him now and he swam towards me and I brought in some line. He swam 1/2 way across creek, gave a jarring pull, and took off down creek. The line I pulled in, that laid upon the water, lifted off the water and through my tension fingers and through the small guides towards the fleeing trout. Down creek he gave a couple head shakes while almost stopping in one place to rest. I didn't let him pause. I moved the arcing rod upstream wanting him to follow. He hesitated with a tug and then followed the rod pressure and tight line I held tight between my fingers. Swimming up into the current I brought in line and kept the rod angling up creek though the glass rod bowed pointing towards the trout. I swung the rod upstream from me and the trout drew closer swimming up creek pass me. He turned sooner than I wanted him too so I brought the rod up higher as I could to keep the line tight while I got my net ready. He tussled in front of me like a spoiled child not getting his way. I pinched the line against the cork not letting him pull away. I could feel the Wonderod bowing into the butt section flexing with each tug. He backed up near me and I was able to get him into the swooping net.

Wow, another nice buttery belly brown trout. If he wasn't creek bred he definitely came up from the river visiting relatives till the next heavy rainfall raised the creek level.

  Well, that deserved a rewarding cigar!

 I had enough fun dry fly fishing and wanted to practice wet fly fishing. I knotted on a Hare's Ear wet and a #18 soft hackle I wasn't sure what it was made of. I casted out cross creek and let it drift beneath as if it was a Woolly Bugger. I ended up hooking into two pissed rainbows and another brown trout that gave me a wild tussle.

  I waded downstream casting the wet flies. I was able to see rainbows holding steady in the calmer water. They would look at my offerings but it didn't agree with their appetite and they swam away. By now I was under direct sunshine and it didn't appear I was going to catch anymore. I waded across creek and headed up to the dirt road and walked up to my truck. 

 It was a good time having some glass action hooking into some heavy trout.

~doubletaper