The road less traveled..

The road less traveled.. barely room for a truck to pass under those leaners.

Over winters deepest extremes I can't help but look ahead towards spring. With sincere full intentions of giving serious attempt toward numerous different extremely viable options. May is a crazy month.. with so much diversity it would be impossible to actively pursue all of them. I still wish I'd do better with following through on at least 30% of the mental itinerary.

I did wake up at 4:00 a.m. not long ago and instead of fluffing up the pillow and turning over leaped ..well, rose slowly.. with the thought that it should be a good day to try a little hidden backwoods gem I used to spend a lot of time on with rod and gun both. It was one of my all to rare "smart moves"

Even getting a boat on it requires considerable effort. Back in the day the only way possible was two guys, both in hip boots, cursing between coughs from inhaling mosquitos as they drug a boat 150 feet through deep treacherous peat muck interlaced with dead cedar limbs. Over the last two decades a sort of 'hillbilly' boardwalk has been implemented, mainly from old pallets and scrap lumber. I bet there's 6' or more of old pallet base supporting the current deteriorating ones above the muck. Not a place for the meek white tennis shoe crew. On the plus side it see's decidedly less pressure than most fishing lakes with a 'civilized' access and more importantly ..the modern boat launch.

I tried to tough it out get the boat in and move off shore before using the dope (grin) but couldn't take them long enough. As a rule once off and away from shore they don't seem to be able to zero in on you as well. After a good dose of deet I drifted.. rigging the rod, an old 8' Orvis 'Western' that was picked up at bargain rate for a spare / loaner. Noticed a Loon off to the north, the direction I was drifting. He was skeptical of my intent and kept the same distance between us. Finally he ran out of lake and was being pinched into the bank. At this point he took off, skimming the surface with his wing tips for well over 100' and passing the boat less than 15' out. Times like this you wish for the capability to shoot a little video. I watched him climb to an altitude above tree tops and circle to the east then resumed rigging. In less than 30 seconds I heard a sound and barely had time to recognize it.. wings. If you've never hunted waterfowl odds are you wouldn't have known it. Anyway, all this in about 2 seconds. I looked up and the Loon passed me so close that it's still hard to believe! I would say 5 feet tops.. Startled me big time.. had he struck you at that speed and weight you'd have been stunned and dumped over the low sides of the pram boat before knowing what even hit you. I still don't know why he took such offence, there was no nest, no real reason, other than he was apparently just a cocky misanthrope Loon. A new experience for me.

Completed rigging the rod and tied a small black popper on, couple test casts and began easing the boat along the breakline. A rise well within range got the first real cast.. nothing took nor did they on the second. However I sighted another ring ahead and eased along to it and dropped the light 7 pound anchor over fixing me in place. First cast it was game on! Nice Gill

The next fish wasn't long coming. He was hooked a bit more difficult but got the popper freed without much trouble. Looking at it decided to pinch the barb.. THAT was the best move I could have made! Next fish ATE and was hooked deep. To complicate things more yet he was a smallish fish. Without forceps and a crushed barb fly I would never have gotten it. I had some other flies that were bigger and looked very promising (reason I bought a few) basically the old foam wiggle bug pattern but scaled way down from the standard Bass / Pike size.  Seemed like a good time to try one, bigger fly, tougher to swallow. It's overcast big time and threatening rain.. Black was the call once again. You couldn't keep the fish off this fly! It is the epitome Bluegill fly! (Pictured in the mouth of the Bull Sunfish) With it's longer shank and crushed barb most fish didn't even have to be removed from the water to release. All you had to do was reverse the shank and wave good by. Even a deeper hooked release was a breeze with the forceps.






Bull Sunny

The day stayed DARK threatening rain that never came.. occasional brief periods of sunshine before going back to darkness. These kind of days are ones I've had epic outings on and this one did not disappoint. I fished from 5:30 a.m. to just after 3:00 p.m. before prying myself away, long out of drinking water and tired of battling the wind. The fish seemed enthused by the stiff breeze and even though it affected casting and you had to occasionally grab for your hat as it lifted off, I didn't mind. The trouble was with the light anchor.. between the waves and wind it wouldn't hold. Always a frustrating circumstance. I never saw another person all day..

..It was one of blurred casting, admiring beautiful fish.. and releasing them. The heaviest hardest pulling one came un-buttoned (naturally) Did not much phase me with present circumstances.. not a big deal. Pretty sure it was a Bass but not positive.. it ran in a big wide arc against the line tension like the other heavy Gills had, versus a Bass bulldogging at depth. I'll remember it a long time.. I did get two Bass about same size (see below)

It never ceases to amaze me how gorgeous most fish are and how perfectly adapted (color wise) to their environment they seem.

The next morning Scott and I went back, getting a later start due some responsibilities he had. We were still fishing by 8:00 a.m. It started out pretty gang busters but fell off considerably from what I had experienced the day prior. I lay it on the bright sun conditions. Still, all in all it was a good days fishing! I tied a chartreuse wiggle bug on his leader and wished I would have tied it to my own! The fish REALLY seemed to be ga ga over it. I didn't fish for the first hour or so then tried same bug in white. They did not care for it. Same with white body heavy red hackle. No go. After that I fell back on 'Old Faithful' the beat up eyes nocked off black bug from day before. They would take it.. but still not as readily as the chartreuse. An interesting observation.. now wondering if it's a constant.






Scott with a nice one.

 

Wild Copper Barring

 

 

The fishing was good enough that he went back the next morning with his daughter. She's fast catching onto casting fly line ..and fish! Hopefully she'll excel at rowing drift boats as well ;-)



The future.. in fine fishing form

Building a strong case for RESULT..

Monday 05-23-16 found Scott and I back on the upstream reaches of our home river. I'd spent a good portion of the day going over and rigging tackle. My long neglected Scott G 803-3 has sat in the corner catching dust since I acquired the little DFR 8' 2wt. I never had a line I was satisfied with on the Scott.. that has changed! Over winter I picked up a Scientific Anglers Mastery VPT WF 3 F. A lot of people seem totally enamored with the old school DT format. I am not one of them. About the only valid point I'll concede in their favor is the fact that they can be reversed and are actually two lines for the price of one. The myth that they have a longer / finer taper is just not true in comparison to modern WF finesse tapers. There are multiple options available with front tapers that notably exceed that of any DT I've ever studied. Enough on that pet peve..

One of the things I like with RIO and some Airflo lines is the factory loop at the rear. Looping a line on a reel is so instant and painless also increasing the efficiency of your reels, spools, and lines. I wish SA would get on board with this plan too. After reverse blind splicing a loop and nail knotting to the running line it was spun on. Now came the next step of the process.. I've been noticing how savage the conventional off the shelf leader (even on a light line) turns over a ultra-fine whispy small dry fly. Not cool.. It reminds me of trying to do finish work with a 20 ounce Estwing hammer.. it's possible but not the best tool for the job. Digging out my recipe book I built a 9' leader blood knotted and tapered down 8 steps to 5X starting with .018 butt material. Much different than the standard .023 ..or .021 if you can find them. A lot of people don't like knots complaining that they catch debris, etc.. I agree ..but where I'm fishing is pretty clean and free of weeds.. plus it's a well known fact that knotted leaders just plain turn over better. Case closed.

The last step in building a strong suit for luck was picking the right hat.. which was apparently the correct one!

The fish came easy on the second cast with biot bodied #14 Spentwing pattern. I was lucky to sight him as he wasn't rising all that regular with scarse bugs available. Had no clue on his size but confident from rise form and more so, the location. My 9 knots all held great (smiling) I love this line! Probably going to add another one or two as resources permit.

Full blown spring.. FINALLY

Even though December was one of the mildest in memory (EXCELLENT Steel Chasing!) the spring months made up for it. March treated us to any early false sense of sweetness in the air and greening surroundings.. Only to wither into cold nights, more snow/s and dreary temps.. I don't know why anyone was even surprised (smiling)

It has finally gotten around to Spring in mid May. That unbelievable greenness that "POPS" so vibrant.. and also signals good dry fly action.

I've had a tough go trout fishing for longer than I care to contemplate. Within the first week of May I accumulated 21+ hours of streamer fishing and never hooked let alone landed a trout. Not complaining (at least not loudly) but that is pretty uncommon. Luckily things have finally broke free of the vortex.. I landed two mid sized Browns last week on the strip.

Friday 05-21-16 John Hayes, Scott and I embarked on a first light mission that really turned out very well. Numbers are never the goal with out streamer endeavors.. more like trophy hunting (hoping?) The first surprise came as we cleared the point of a long narrow flat with major gradient change, the river widening and slowing. Scott cast to the inside edge along submerged wood and grassed bank. Several strips in as he lifted into the sunk fly for next cast, speeding it up, just as it reached the surface and was going airborne VIOLENT EXPLOSION.. On the oars and looking right at his fly I had great look at the fish as it turned and left town. Not extremely heavy but lean and lengthy.. the streamlined predator profile of a meat eater. It was sizeable enough to potentially make a guys entire season with no complaint. It was also gone just as fast as it appeared.

Not long after and on same bank, depthy slack pool Scott sweeps the rod into head shaking weight.. and is just as quickly holding a slack line straight rod. States; "I think it might have been a pike.. I wish the prick would give that fly back!" Simultaneously a mid sized pike jumps boatside, high and shaking his gill plates.. twice more he jumped.. but never gave up the fly.

A while later as we came up on a prominent outside bend tributary mouth John cast to the inside tight to the bank in a vegetation pocket. First strip produced a hard slam and solid hook-up. I crossed the river as he played it and entered the creek mouth where they eventually landed it. Beautiful fish that broke the 20" mark so universally accepted as "trophy Brown" standard. We were elated.. the day a huge success. Quality over quantity is feast or famine.. but the desserts are so sweet!

 

 

Later in the evening we met again on the upstream reaches of same river. The Sulphers are just kicking off.. my favorite spring hatch. We all took a few fish but no real 'good ones' or pigs this eve. Skipping Saturday I was back up and met with Scott on same stretch we'd fished Friday. He'd brought his 11 year old Daughter along. It's promising to see youth so full of enthusiasm and wonderment at all the new things there are to learn.. something so rare in this modernized world we now live in. It reaffirms and defines the word hope.

 

Almost instantly after we'd rigged rods* and started up stream the air came alive with clouds of caddis, some stones in the mix.. sulphers started to emerge. So did the rise rings! I didn't get out of sight of our vehicles before hearing and seeing a thunderous rise at the head of a productive slack inside seam lengthy run, a long time favorite and producer of good fish. Beeing no sense in going any further up I entered the shallows, stringing line and choosing a tie. A perfect Sz 16 light Cahill from my own vise. The caddis now coming in waves, the air thick with them resembling those GIANT snowflakes on the breeze during March Steel chasing. Fish were rising heavily as far as the eye could see. All in all it was good night, I brought to hand one of the nicest Brookies from this reach in many years. The pigs eluded me though.. I had a promising riser just before dusk when the temp dropped sharply and the billowing snowflakes ended.. the rises following suit. I know his home though and there's always tonight!

 

 

*This rod is a true little gem, G Loomis IM6 964-2 (8' 4wt) I've had it a couple years without use due reel foot fitting issue. Came to me in as new condition, tube and sock included.. inside I found the warranty card. It tips my USPS digital scales at a whopping 1.6 ounce. The little Loop Nymph Wide is the only perfect fit I've found for it's slide-band seat. Just good fortune it's such a sweet spot on match!

 

 

 

Home front kick off

High winds nuked any thoughts entertained of spending time on big water searching for Steelbows. Wisdom is purchased by youth. John Hayes had came up and was ready to air some line. The upper river is a nice place to be at ANY time, so that was the plan.

It felt great to be back on this stretch.. just like coming home. I started out with a big twin winged cone-head Madonna. Water still quite cool / cold so swung some defined pools, slack water seams with soft strips in the mix. I did get one good grab but felt like a change regardless. That's kind of uncommon for me, don't often change unless there's an obvious need to. Like breaking off on a snag or your boat partners are getting significantly more interest. Anyway, I went with black, a color I don't choose as often as a guy should because of it's low visibility. I like to track my fly in and around structure whenever possible. Yellow has been a solid go too.

Playing around with some different single hand spey casts was as much direct result of the calander and my state of mind as necessary. It often is though so good to keep these skills in tune and build upon them. Coming down a nice little soft water pocket pool on about fourth swing.. fly is tracking perfect. BLAM.. Blasted and connected to a tail walking Brown in 1/2 seconds time! He was one of those special fish that register a lasting impression. Hard charger, jumped hard two more times then was landed. All roads merged as one and things were perfect at that moment in time.

Yesterday: spent six hours with the long rod standing in cold rain with WIND about two hours by car downstream from this spot. My hopes were high. Saw one chrome beauty of the 10 pound class roll in the surface even with me, about 60' out.. water I'd just swam the fly through a few minutes prior. Not long after I felt life force up through the line.. things and timing felt right so I swung -and missed- my solitary opportunity of the day. I'm blaming that one on the new "Connect Core" runner from RIO.. that additional feel screwed me ..lol..

Attention! delayed arrivals. ETA unknown..

Mother nature fooled all once again. The 'false summer' of early - mid March stalled.. into a looong extended COLD spring. Lack of precipitation has had the expected result.

 Conditions were set up perfectly for a favorite trib early in the third month. With the unexpected heat wave at same time I was caught up with instant work concerns and the narrow window closed before I could make it. History repeats itself all to often.

A little over a week later I was fortunate enough to find a couple fish on a different trib. Postponing my annual B-Day fishing due to conditions paid off with a dime bright fresh in fish followed by a supreme 24" Brown Trout. Those were the only takes over a long day.. my good fortune continues to replay as day dreams while awaiting the next solid head shaking connection.

Friday 04-03-15 was not it. What it was though was a great day showing a good fishing friend one of my special reaches of water, high up on a connected trib. Plenty of snow yet in the woods and evaporating with the first rays of morning sun created an aura you could taste and feel. Dense cedar flats combined with hardwood ridges makes for a nice atmosphere. Ours were the first tracks in many places. The river was surprisingly high with a little stain. Good fortune from a few years of decent water has restored the ground table supply. When I first fished this trib you could only cross at very specific points and you'd better not stub your toe. Usually there was a beaver stake or two stationed near by in the shape of a perfect wading staff. You picked one up and crossed, then left it handy on the other bank. It's been several years since wading this water due a couple reasons I wont delve into here. I've missed it. It was nostalgic looking over the bank on the run a good friend and I were gifted with our first hook-up  ever. A big Buck that shell shocked us with casual display of raw power.. and promptly severed the fragile connection we had only just established with barely enough time to recognize before it was gone. It was enough. We were hooked. Pic from 04-03-15 below

Do you believe in kharma?

Today I bailed on a family Thanks Giving Dinner and went fishing.. but not without guilt. The end result was extremely exciting though. Conditions just don't often cooperate for winter fishing, especially when your working full time. That seems to stiffen your chances of hitting a decent day on a week-end considerably. That being the case when the odds favored us I didn't hesitate much. The river had just received a BIG push of water less than a week ago and was almost settled back in to the same flows. Late November - and all through the next month have proven to be my best luck with Steel on this particular tributary. Typical of me I was off to a too late start but had the perseverance to stick with the plan. Made the hike in and rigged up. Stepping into the water and making the first casts, a little higher than necessary to hopefully shake out any cob webs before reaching the real holding areas. Casting was pretty solid. I'd drug along my 12'6" 7/8 Guideline Lecie and Loop Danielsson 8/11 reel which is 4.25 inch diameter (for reference) A couple years ago I'd picked up a RIO Scandi Short Versi-Tip 6wt and this head is a very good match for the rod. Earlier this fall I'd added a Intermediate body to the kit and coupled with the 10' type 6 tip it was a spot on match for the water conditions, which are very decidedly UP from the past few seasons. I'd forgotten to put my thermometer back in but the water feels alarmingly COLD already. It's not that uncommon to go into December still above 40* but I'm pretty sure it was well below that. The first run I hit has the best and historically most productive water beginning not far below the start, there's a nice lengthy crescent shaped divit in the bank that offers an additional current break. I worked it slowly and made sure it was covered well, losing one fly to the bottom in the process. There's a distinct feature in this run that averages a half hour - forty minutes to reach and signifies the furthest down I've ever taken a Steelbow. It's always a bit depressing once you reach it without a pull. However,there's a considerable amount of water still below it, and I have taken some VERY nice Browns from it through the years. There's an area that's slowly but surely been evolving over the seasons. Changing into a deep but ultra slow center channel run. I'd gotten a good start on it and my swing was coming across right in the gut when it got picked off. Not the light 'tick' variety nor the full on slam, but an assertive take that ate up the loop I was carrying under my index in short order. When it came tight to the reel I gave it a solid 'pop' to be sure.. and all hell broke loose. The first run was long and continuous, surging heavily with boils near the surface. I was certain it must be Steel, seemed way to rowdy for a Brown. With no advance warning the fish jumped, WAY upstream of where my line had just been but was no longer! Reeling like crazy I caught up and was still connected. The fish began jumping and running, definitely Steel.. BIG steel. He shredded the pool to a froth and jumped so many time I lost count. Then the moment was at hand, I had him whipped. What the hell? Where did that line come from? There was extra mono in play! Yikes.. well wrapped into the lower head and sink tip. It was touchy business but I was able to untangle my line from the refuse, at one point I had to release all tension to the fish and thread my rod through the stuff. Thankfully it came up tight again and in short time I swept him into a little pocket just inside the shoreline break. WHAT A FISH, my god he looked enormous, waves of elation were washing over me and increasing the intoxication. WHAT A FISH!

Shell shocked I quickly shot a couple pics and pulled the fly. A small Olive Sculpin that shows up when image is enlarged. My Deer season Buck faded back into the depths..


The Kharma: That's when I notice my feet are still tangled in line. The same piece of crap I feared would prevent me from landing this incredible fish. I started chasing it down, I never leave something like this in the water or bank side. I couldn't come up with an end? I tracked it waaay up-stream and dead ended my self in water to deep to wade with the line solidly lodged on something still well up above me. Thinking that was the terminal end I reversed direction and chased it downstream well beyond the place my fish was landed in. I was and am STILL blown away by the amount of length involved. By this time I'm hoping there's a rod on the downstream end! After braving going out on a submerged sweeper a long ways over deep water I made some headway and got the line cleared. It is without doubt BY FAR the longest full section of line I've ever removed, easily exceeding 200 yards and covering two bends of river. It was a job retrieving it and ate up well over an hour that could have been spent fishing. But I stuck with the task hoping to balance the scales of kharma. I'm not sorry I did.. How could you improve on the day?? Oddly, there was no hook, shot, or lure at either end. What kind of a person just lets 200+ yards of about 12 pound mono spool off in a pristine river? I'm ever puzzled with stupidity.

The fish measured 35" and had not missed a meal since leaving the spawning redd. I'm guessing him at about 17 pounds.. a little heavy for length but his girth supports it. My largest to date Steelbow and may never be bested. What a beast and incredible gift to briefly touch.

Where does time go..

Has it really been just over two years since I've written a blog post? Many apologies for anyone that's checked in here and seen only the same. Mourning the death of our old XP desktop has been tough.. Windows 8 I could live without!