Because … you knew I would not be able to resist, right?
Driving near the pass, today, I found myself with a rare combination of circumstances that came together, quickly.
- A pre-lunch call that ran very, very short;
- An afternoon meeting that became optional;
- A small lunch picked up in the pass, intended to be consumed in a rush, while on mute or between calendar blocks, still on the passenger seat; and, perhaps most critical of all,
- My rod and vest in the vehicle with me!
Yeah…a different lunch experience was in order.
Taking exit 47, I quickly found myself surrounded by trees and bathed in that green-toned light that only comes with being well within the canopy coverage.
A few twists and turns later, I pulled up to the same spot I had scouted the previous week, with no other vehicles around.
I’ve always loved how just seeing the water moving, through the gaps in the trees, immediately begins to relax me, and releases stress. Such a healthy kind of place to spend time.
I gear up, quickly.
Although I had my wading boots with me, my favorite fly and equipment shop didn’t have waders in stock for me, so we ended up ordering them, instead. They are coming from in-state, so I plan to hit Worley Bugger Fly Co., on my way back, as they may well arrive that quickly.
Anyway, I recalled that this spot had excellent bank space, so I knew I could easily get some time on the river, even stepping carefully.
The water was essentially at the same level as my previous visit, which was great to discover.
Such a beautiful spot.
I kicked off with working a #12 Adams that I tied … and unknown number of years ago. Great to cast with, rode nicely on the water, and it stayed reasonably dry.
Mostly because nothing wanted to bite it.
Nothing even took a pass to get a closer look.
Okay… time to take a peak at the water temp, then. Warm day (mid-60s as I drove in) and nicely sunny. Should be better than my Opening Day waters, right?
Right?
Maybe warmer by 1 degree, roughly.
The Adams may be a bit more traditional, but if I’m going to entice something to rise and take, in these waters, it would have to be a bit more “meaty.”
Next on was my #14 Stimmy, in burnt orange. Yes, a size smaller in hook, but tying them on 3xLong, natural bend hooks, and tying them well-hackled and dubbed, they come out far more plump than an Adams, even of a size larger.
Why the burnt orange? I like how dark they get, once wet, and have several insects in the waters closer to home that have reddish tones to them. I also found this, about the same time I was checking the temperature of the water:
It was the only one I saw, which suggested to me that they might be just starting to make their appearance. It looked fairly fresh, after all.
I know…
Red stonefly nymph exoskeletons should mean casting nymphs. I just didn’t want to give up on dries, so I tied on the Stimmy with the idea that the shell left on a dry rock suggests final phase shedding, which could put reddish adult Stoneflies in the air, around this area.
Besides, its fun to cast and looks nice floating by.
See that run, well below the churning pocket waters, off to the left? A bit farther down, the surface of the river gets yet more calm and gentle. This run lasts maybe 50′ then starts to accelerate into riffles, just before another stretch of turbulent pocket waters.
It was in that placid and gentle stretch that my dry fly addiction got re-ignited.
I had made a fairly nice cast, a quick mend to alleviate a bit of line drag, and was admiring the clarity of the water and the variations of the rocks at the bottom of the river, when one of them broke away, effortlessly and without haste, and drifted up. It bowed up the surface of the water, just as my fly arrived, and without splash or sound it took my fly and started to simply drift back down.
Of course, a fraction of a second later, it realized this was no insect and the gentle/calm mode went abruptly away.
Can’t blame it, really.
Beautiful Rainbow or Cutthroat. Somewhere between 10 and 12 inches long, but filled with determination, it pulled hard for its size, shook well, and eventually managed to dislodge my fly only about 5′ away from me.
Would have been nice to get it into the net, and maybe a quick photo, but more than happy to have my first visually-confirmed fish on the line, for this season, and that it was a dry I had tied that brought it to the surface.
Beautiful day. Beautiful river. Beautiful fish. I returned to the car to find my coffee still nicely warm, so I guess I really did manage to keep the stop to a reasonable lunch span.
That’s not like me.
Usually, all sense of time evaporates the moment my feet get into the water. Could it be that the fish have found a way to hypnotize me, to eventually lull me into falling asleep in the river, some day? Maybe my not having waders, which kept me from entering the current, foiled their nefarious plans?
Who knows. I’m definitely looking forward to new waders, so they’ll get their chance, for certain.
More to come.
Tight lines…