A Fine Day, at last

Sunday started off with some very excellent indicators…the smoke that had been hanging around our area for weeks had shown some signs of breaking up and dissipating, the cold front that had triggered this had also dropped us into almost autumn-like weather, and my afternoon was uncommitted.

The perfect kind of day to plan a quick fishing trip.

A good friend of mine had told me about a stretch not too far from one of my regular locations, where a series of pools offered some great opportunities. One of the things I like about smaller mountain rivers (or overly self-important mountain streams), is that the shift between riffles, runs, and pools is often compressed, allowing for multiple transition zones within a relatively short wade or walk. In contrast to the larger rivers, this means that a hatch, spinner fall, or other event that is focused on a certain type of water can be explored repeatedly, and a particularly lousy job of wading might only spook the fish immediately in front of you, where the same type of water 50 yards ahead is left undisturbed.

Believe me; this is critical for me, some days…

I found what I believed to be the parking area my buddy had described, geared up, and began walking in what I hoped was the right direction. The tip paid off very well, within minutes. The stretch of water was beautiful, with fairly easy banks to get to the water, and truly had a variety of water types laid out before me.

I moved downstream, keeping back from and parallel to the river, and found the beginning spot, where a set of trees made what could have been a territorial boundary across the river.

The first pool was cool, slow, and gentle.

My wading into it…not so much.

I had tied on my standard #14 Parachute Adams, my go-to or baseline fly, and found the pool not overly productive. A couple of splashy attempts/refusals told me that I had probably spooked all but the youngest fish in the immediate area. Despite this, the feeling of beginning to work my way up a beautiful river had already started to relax me, and just seeing fishy activity was enough for the moment. Moving up to the head of the pool, I found a bit more interest in my fly, as the channel narrowed and I was casting into faster waters.

A few casts into this stretch, my fly suddenly got snatched from the surface and the line was snugly tight! Heart quickening, I gave it a quick set, got a little movement, a strong bend in the rod, and then … it simply and solidly stopped.

Turns out, I had gotten focused more on the drift of my fly than the placement of the line and leader, and the belly of my leader must have gotten pulled under a log that was down on the side of the flow. The current pulled it through, gobbling up any available slack on the distant end, then yanked the fly under! I did not immediately realize what had happened, or perhaps I was daydreaming and the sudden pull meshed nicely with the mental image of “the big slab the could live in that undercut”, but despite the initial pull feeling like it gave a little…perhaps something I could drag up from the bottom…ultimately the bit of slack in the leader slid through, the fly caught on the wood, and my 9′ leader came back 5′.

One has to stop and laugh at a moment like this, when the “trophy Cutthroat” turns out to be current and fallen wood, because … well … it puts you back in your place. It’s as if the river was reminding me that my best is always required, but does not actually put me fully in control of anything. It’s humbling, and I am thankful for those reminders.

WARNING: Product review ahead.

It was after this that I slipped the broken butt end of the leader off my line (coiling it tightly and stuffing it into the “junk pocket” I designate for discards), and pulled out a new 9′, 5x leader I had purchased from Bozeman Flyworks, via an online retailer. The butt end was wrapped quite a few times around the coil, so I had to work at loosing up the corkscrew tendencies in that section, but the mid-body and tippet are very supple, easy to cast, and the tippet rolls over nicely (when my loop is good). Not one to usually plug a product, but I was impressed by this first try, and wanted to share it.

Leader replaced, I tied on a #14 Elk Hair Caddis, tied with burnt orange hackle, and resumed trying to gain interest from below the film. I moved up into the small pool above the narrowed stretch, and began casting farther up, towards the head of that small pool.

I noticed a sudden uptick in the frequency of splashy refusals, I assume because I had gotten far enough away from the first pool and my clumsy start, but could not convince them to take the fly. I tried a fan of casts, with some interest in several areas, but did not connect. Then I noticed some smaller insects skipping across the water, and decided it was time to swap the fly out.

Next up was the #14 Renegade I had tied the previous week.

Why not? As good a time as any to give it a try, as I knew there were fish in the area and I had not flogged the water too badly.

Wow! What a difference.

The same places I had cast when covering the angles produced solid hookups, in one spot the fish actually seemed to have jumped out of the water to snatch the fly before it hit the surface! I fished this little “rapids” for a solid 10 minutes, before the fish got the idea and started hiding from the fly. A great first try on a pattern that is new to me, but likely to remain in a prominent position in the dry fly box.

Slipping up to the tail of the next pool, I continued to connect with trout. At one point, I got hits on it on three consecutive casts!

At the beginning of the tail of the next pool, I slipped on a loose rock and almost took a bath in the river. Not my best wading, this day, but I managed to recover before fully going in. What I did not prevent, however, were the ripples making their way cross the entire pool. At 40-ish cfs in overall flow, the large and deep pools become excellent transmitters of missteps and mistakes. Without outside influences, the surface film is almost as smooth as glass, and any interruption is noticed by all. Again laughing at myself, I worked my way to the left bank and moved upstream. It was a very nice pool, with a deep trough as the water comes in from slightly to the left and bends around the tongue of volcanic rock that descends from the ridge line, and disappears into the bottom of the riverbed. Great place to perhaps tie on a nymph dropper, on a future outing, and try bouncing it through the deepest section.

Above this, I found a picturesque stretch of pocket water, that had me excited as soon as I saw it.

I am a sucker for this kind of fly fishing. Although you usually see smaller fish in this kind of water, there are some that surprise you; hiding in the pockets that turn out to be deeper or longer than you thought. I swapped out the Renegade, as the lowering light levels and far more choppy water would make it hard for me to track (Parachute Renegade? Hmmm), and tied on a fat #12 Parachute Adams, that had been tied with more hackle than usual. I spent the next while (ok, I lose track of actual time when I fish. Who doesn’t, when they are really enjoying it?) casting in quick motions to individual pools, sometimes with only about 5′ of actual line propelling the leader. I caught almost as many fish in that stretch as I did in the great little narrowed section, where I had first tied on the Renegade!

Eventually, I found myself within sight of the path leading back to the truck, caught one more fish as I waded across, and made my way out of the water and through the trees to the road. I spent a total of 2 hours on the water, if the time stamps of my pictures are accurate. Some exciting fishing, and more than a few chances to remind myself to take it all in stride, when things don’t quite go my way. All enjoyable, though.

I hope the weather trend stays true, going forward, despite being perhaps a bit early for the day to top out in the low 70’s. More importantly, I hope the air quality stays in a reasonable range, if at all possible. I also hope the firefighters working on the literally hundreds of fires that are creating the smoke stay safe, the cooler weather helps them, and that they get some rain to also speed up their task.

Tight lines…