The Hardy Quest
6/06/24
It was the 6th of June, another warm day camping along the Clarion River. I’ve been fishing the river almost everyday since I set up my camper. Casting out to smallmouth and trout with a 6 weight fly rod. I was wanting to relax and try to find some trout in one of the many mountain streams that flow into the river. I kind of knew where some trout might be congregated under a canopy of trees, in cooler water, out of the sunlight. After breakfast I drove down river and up the dirt road to start my quest for trout.
I took out and assembled my 7’ 3 weight Hardy Demon fly rod. To this I attached my Quest fly reel to the uplocking reel seat. After threading the three weight Cortland DT fly line through the rod eyes I walked down to the creek and crossed over to the far bank. Walking up the bank, keeping my distance from the water, I looked into the water searching for fish. I spotted a few only by noticing their tails slowly waving in the slow current. Once under a canopy of trees I pulled out line and began my quest to make them rise.
I like using the 7’ Hardy rod for a couple of reasons on small streams. First off it is like a medium fast action rod. I can wrist cast it without coming to a full overhead draw and avoid the leafy tree branches behind and above me. I can shoot a dry fly out without much effort. I guess it’s like the difference between a cross bow and a long bow. Once loaded you just pull the trigger of a cross bow as with a long bow you need elbow room to pull the string back. Since the distance I’m casting isn’t very far the 7 foot, quick action rod, is plenty on length to do the job. After casting the 6 weights on the river the past few days, the light 3 weight feels like balsa wood compared to a lengthy piece of hickory.
There were a couple of rises already, on occasion, coming up. I couldn’t see any bugs on or flying around but there evidently was something on the surface, or just below it, the fish were eating. I knotted on a #18 caddis and tossed it upstream in a narrow run of about shin deep water that flowed down into the wider section of the creek. A fish surprised me and rose immediately to my caddis. I missed him of course but will be determined to get him if he gives me another chance.
Out in front of me the creek was wider and somewhat deeper. I’m able to see bottom ½ the creek width and see a few trout scattered about. I start to cast outward letting the caddis float on the surface riffles. Another trout comes up for my caddis as if it hasn’t had a meal all morning. He splashes the surface water and a scuffle begins. The 3 weight flexes and follows the trout as it scampers about tugging line. I bring him towards me and he fits nicely in the net. A nice size rainbow that looks as if he’s been around for quite some time being his dark color and pale green sandstone belly. ‘One down’ I say to myself.
Letting the water settle in front of me from the sudden activity of fighting the trout, I turn my attention up in the riffling run. My second cast drops the caddis on the far side of the run and I see a fish turn on my quick floating caddis. It happens so fast I pull back line as quick as he grabs the caddis. The line tightens and the fish swims up creek and then swiftly swims across creek. I hold the rod firmly and let a little line out between my tension fingers. He swings in an arc and plays with me across in front of me. I raise the rod and carefully bring him to the net. This time a nice brown trout fits in the net nicely.
There’s a rise down in the slower water out from me. I cast across creek, with slack line upstream from my offering, and watch it drift down. A fish swirls at it but I’m hesitant on trying to hook the trout. He doesn’t take it and lets it drift by. Maybe because of all the commotion I’ve caused with the first two trout the others are more cautious. A couple more drifts and one more trout rises and checks my offering out like a small dog sniffing a scrap of decayed food to determine if its edible or not. He evidently doesn’t like the looks or smell and refuses.
I shoot a long cast out ¾ across creek into darker waters. I can’t see below the surface. The caddis doesn’t sit on the surface long before a trout rises and gulps the caddis off the surface. I rear back the rod and line and the trout pulls back and starts the melee. He scurries about as in confusion which direction he wants to continue the skirmish. I hold on to the rod as I feel the tip section flexing with his actions. He swims, tugging, all around the area as if we are in a sword fighting duel. He tires and I reel him towards me to the net. Another nice rainbow flops in the net.
Under the tree cover fish have been rising on occasion to my right. I slowly move along the bank within reach of the rises. I make an over the left shoulder cast with my right hand. The caddis falls short of my target and because of the slow moving current sits in shallow water. I recasts, pulling line out, and drop the caddis under shade of the leafy tree limbs. I see a fish rise just below the surface checking my offering out as if it was a replica or the real thing. He refuses and swims below uninterested. I cast a few more time without any any takers.
I decide to knot on a beetle pattern. The beetle falls to the surface like a beetle falling from the leaves above. It creates a small splash and dimple on the water. A trout rises, almost hesitates with a quick look see. He likes what he sees and sips my beetle. I pull back the rod and the line tightens. The trout angers and starts to tug and head shake the line. My hand around the cork handle can feel every throbbing pressure from the angry trout. He swims down creek as the surface water is disrupted along his way. We have a little battle and he tires. A rainbow comes to the net safely.
I still don’t see any bug activity on the surface but the trout seem to be hungry enough, though wary now, of any food that comes along the way. There’s small slurps and dimpling on the surface with an occasional hearty splash as if a trout is after an emerger before it reaches the surface. I cast out the beetle but get no results and not even seeing a trout rise to it. I switch back to the caddis and cast to the trout I’m able to see out in the knee deep water and riffles. I hear a splash down from me and turn to see an opening swirl just out from the bank. I make a short cast down towards the swirl and let line out as my caddis drifts drag free just out from the bank. A fish rises and sips it as if he knew it wasn’t going to fly away. I yank the rod up and over my left shoulder and you would of thought this trout was never caught before. After a quick tug, as if he wasn’t sure what the caddis was attached to, he takes off down and out into deeper water. The rod bows and line slips through the guides and eyes of the 3 weight. He heads for the opposite bank and I hold the cork firmly as I keep line tension between my fingers. He swims I haste below and I keep the line up avoiding the small boulders below the surface I can see. He tugs as I guide him towards me battling the whole time against my will. Nearer to me I can see he is a feisty brown trout not wanting to be captured and swims about frantically in font of me. I’m able to corral him in my net.
My caddis looks as if it was about to come unhinged if the struggle lasted any longer.
So that’s the way it went. I cast out into the shady waters under the canopy of trees. Here and there I pick off a trout with the caddis and at times with a small blue quill pattern. I enjoy a cigar and the quietness of the mountain steam.
As the noon sun rises the temperature and humidity increases also. I watch as trout start to move up, out of the sunny water down creek, into the shaded area around in front of me. I continue to cast out different shades of caddis. I watch as trout rise to inspect my offering and I get many refusals. Every once in a while one will accept my imitation and put up a good fight to my net.
Very few rise. Across creek I’m able to pick off a couple more that are unaware of my presence. It is evident some had been hooked before, by the wounds in their mouths, and fight like they were angry they got fooled again.
Things really slowed down going on 2:00. It was if it was siesta time and the trout weren’t wanting to play anymore. I walked down creek along the bank to where I could cross without disturbing any trout. I called it a day under the hot sunshine and returned to camp feeling successful in my Hardy Quest for finding hungry trout.
~doubletaper
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