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3. Got a story to share?

I thought it would be both fun and entertaining if we shared some stream side experiences. So let me begin.

Years back I was working upstream on a section of the Namekagon. It was a warm sunny afternoon in June, fishing was slow and there was no visible hatch. Out of the corner of my eye I caught a fish, leaping vertically, completely out of the water. I have seen this many times in the past and have always found it interesting. Of coarse my first thought was--- ah a fish! So naturally, I started to work toward that spot, one eye on my drift and the other, on that spot. Well, much to my surprise, I’ll be damned if the fish didn’t do it again. Now my curiosity was piqued. I ceased fishing and slowly made my way to the spot, halting short, so as not to reveal myself. I was studying the surface of the water, seeing nothing unusual, when the fish leaped; straight up vertically, completely out of the water, again! This time I discovered what was going on. The fish was catching Damsel Flies, as they were hovering, a good foot and a half from the surface.

Once again the Namekagon: It was a muggy and buggy late summer day just before dusk. I was swinging a nymph in anticipation of an evening hatch. The air was full of insecta, of the buzzing and biting variety. Less than a cast below me, in a section of very quiet water, I saw a nice Brown emerge. His mouth was wide open and the upper half of his body was visible from head to tail. He was slowly swimming, ingesting midges. I watched as he spanned about twenty feet of surface water, in this fashion, before disappearing. In all my years of fishing I have not witnessed that before or again.

And finally, on the lighter side: I was standing at waters edge, on an absolutely gorgeous spring day, at dusk, when lo and behold, three baby raccoons scampered up to my feet, and started to play.

Great stories, as usual, Falsifly. The way you tell them makes me feel like I'm there.

-Shawn

I was fishing my way up a northern Maryland stream catching the occasional fallfish. I was downstream of a young great blue heron, and as I got to within 50 yards or so, he would fly off and stalk his prey further upstream. This scenario repeated a few times.

I eventually got to an area where I picked up a small wild brown. Not far from the same spot, I caught another. As I was getting the hook out of his jaw, I sensed something, turned my head to the right, and damned if that heron wasn't within an arm's length of me moving in to take my fish!

Startled, I shooed him off by waving my hand, but he only backed off a little. I eventually picked up a stream rock and tossed it in his direction (not trying to hit him), and he grudingly flew upstream.

Another heron harassed me a bit on the Henry's Fork, but he came no where near as close as that little guy in Maryland.

Falsify wrote: "......in a section of very quiet water, I saw a nice Brown emerge. His mouth was wide open and the upper half of his body was visible from head to tail. He was slowly swimming, ingesting midges. I watched as he spanned about twenty feet of surface water, in this fashion, before disappearing."

I have never seen it myself, but I have read that during the white fly hatch/fall on the Susquehanna and some tribs, catfish have been known to pull that same trick.

An hour, before one of natures most magical moments, known most intimately to the night fisher of the fly, I wind my way along the path that follows waters edge, not so much in search of a place, but a moment in time----dusk. For reasons I’ve yet to understand, the urge compels me, when and where, to enter the theater for this evening’s performance. As I make my way to the stage I find a comfortable seat, normally towards the back, from which the stage reveals itself in its immensity, and my viewing pleasure is best satiated. I sit, making myself comfortable, fidgeting with this and that, waiting for the curtain to raise and reveal this evening’s play. With nothing but time on my hands I think back to all the past performances, and theaters, I have attended. In my younger days, like most kids, I was unable to sit quietly. But, now that the rough edges have been smoothed over in my latter years, not unlike the freestone-boulder on which I sit, I realize just how much of the past plays I have missed, in my haste. Though the theme is often similar, the cast is never the same. And, it can be mellow dramatic and of short duration, or an evening long frenzy of activity, requiring an operatic understanding to comprehend. Yes, the music is also there, but one must listen, attuned to nature’s harmonious way. As time slowly ticks I catch a slight raise in the curtain, a few cast members have revealed themselves on the stage floor, in balletic like perfection, then disappearing as if Peter Pan. The audience begins to stir with excited anticipation; will this be another command performance? But just as quickly the activity ebbs and the audience returns to quite solitude. I sit, having never left my seat, watching as the lights have gone from dim to completely out. I stand and stretch my aching back making my way to the exit. Tonight’s play was cancelled.

Regarding catfish suspended with their mouths open during the White fly hatch on the Susky - Yes, I have seen this many times when the White Fly spinner is on the water. There may be a pod of channel catfish, as many as thirty or more, and they just fin in the current with their mouths pretty much open sucking in the spinners. I also saw a picture of crayfish in the shallows with their pincers out of the water snatching the spinners as they floated by.

While stationed in Germany, I had the opportunity to fly fish a small stream not far off base. It was an early spring day, and the fish had not yet really started taking flies, but my fishing partner, Jan, and I had each picked up one rainbow apiece. Both were well over twelve inches.
As Jan and I were making our way up a small feeder to the main stem of the creek that had been good to us before, we happened upon two other fishermen. They had light spinning tackle and they were having a great time, laughing and joking.
As they saw us, one of them jovially asked, " Hey, how you guys doing?"
Jan answered, " Oh, not too bad." He really didn't want to let on that we were doing okay. " They really haven't started hitting flies that well, yet."
" Oh, flies, and not doing all that great yet, " He said, shaking his head.
"How are you guys doing?" I asked back.
"Oh we've already caught five," the other fellow said.
"Really!" Jan said his eyes growing wide.
"Yeah, maybe you two aren't using the right bait," the first fellow chimed in.
"Well, let us in on your secret," I said.
The second fellow announced, "Iowa worms!"
Well that was something new to me. I'd heard of red worms and night crawlers. I even remembered a time my brother-in-law had talked about red wigglers, but I'd never seen nor heard of Iowa worms.
Before I could say anything, Jan spoke up and said, "What the h*^l are Iowa worms?"
The first guy opened up the worm carrier on his belt, reached in and pulled out something. He kept it in his closed hand till he fastened the lid of the carrier. Then he carefully opened his hand.
When I saw what was there, I looked at Jan. His eyes were wide open and his jaw was nearly down to his chest. There, nested tenderly in the guy's palm were two kernels of yellow corn.
"You're catching trout on that?" Jan asked in amazement.
"Sure," the second fellow said. "These trout are just gobblin' them up."
"I'd really like to see those five trout you've caught or did you let them go?" I said.
The first fellow said, "Oh no, we got 'em right here on the stringer." He hauled the stringer out, and I watched as Jan almost fell over when that fellow held up the five fish and none were over four inches. To each his own, I guess.

Hey Softhackle,
Thats what I'm talking about. I enjoyed your story. thank you!

Iowa worms? Should have guessed.

It's a true story! If I get some time, I've got a few others I can tell, too. We'll see.

Mark

I was getting ready to get out of the water after a fishing a favorite spot on Connecticut's Housatonic River. I reeled in, took a last long look at the water for signs of rising fish, then slowly turned toward the streambank.

That's when I froze in my tracks.

I'll never forget the sight. In fact, I often replay it over and over again in my mind's eye.

In water barely covering its broad mahagony back, I watched a two foot long brown trout swim leisurely past me with a ten inch chub crosswise in its jaws.

My story:

I was on the river on a nice, quiet evening. Then a @#*&ing beaver scared the hell out of me.

Hopefully, what it lacks in specificity, it makes up for in familiarity.

Tail slap, Jason?

I recently told the story of how I gained the nickname Ol' Black Toe in another thread.

I'll bump up the "And then I hooked the fricken bat" thread if I can locate it to bring up a few stories some of the new folks probably missed.

It would be hard to fathom a trout fisherman unfamiliar with the Dragonfly. At the very least he would have to acknowledge its present’s streamside, or be severely lacking in perception of his surroundings; which in this case a trout fisherman he could not be. I for one, often watch with amazed amusement, its aerodynamic skills, and will take time out from my fishing to more closely examine its unique physical characteristics, as it rests upon my forearm, hand, rod, or any other place from which a closer inspection my be granted. I too, am familiar, and in great appreciation of its voracious appetite for that most detested blood sucking tenant of our beloved habitat, the mosquito; one of God’s creatures, ranking right up there with the tick, of which I can find no purpose. Even its imitation has benefited the fly fisherman partaking in the disguise of the hook, with that of the robust Odonata nymphal form. I have not, as yet, used this particular imitation to further my repertoire and I’m sure that I am lesser for it. As you may have correctly surmised, I am extolling on the benefits of the Dragonfly. But I have formed a deeper respect, and a close friendship with this creature; as a result of a rather bizarre incident. Standing mid stream with both hands occupied, all collective thought centered on the task before me, to the exclusion of all else, my trance was broken by that most annoying high pitched whine of the type emitted from the female of the family Culicidae. She was most obstinate in securing a spot to pierce my epidermis with that hypodermic proboscis, and inject the anti coagulant resulting in the incessant itch. I was not about to allow her to tap into my red blood cell supply in order to dispense more agony upon mankind. And just as bad were the antics necessary to keep her at bay. It’s difficult to fish while flailing away with rod in hand as you all know. Just as I was about to cease my fishing and administer my cease and desist decree, in the form of one less mosquito, she lit upon the very tip of my nose. As I tried to focus in on my foe with a cross-eyed maneuver, intervention stepped in. That pest was plucked from the tip of my nose by a Dragonfly.

Not sure if this is a story that everyone will agree with or will be able to relate to, but it took place this past fall and is by far, the most memorable experience I ever had while Fly Fishing.....

I was fishing one last pool after a long, fishless day on the Tioughnioga River here in Cortland, NY. I was fishing right behind a tree that stuck out in the stream about 10 feet, roll casting to the bank, and swinging two streamers through a deep run. Well, out of no where, I see a huge crank bait in my peripheral vision zoom past me and land at the tail end of the pool I was fishing.

Thinking the angler didn't see me, I stepped out a bit from behind the tree to make myself more visable. I didn't step out in an aggressive way, just in a way to let the guy know I was there. Wouldn't ya know it, he did the same exact thing again almost taking my line in with his retrieve. Now, the section of water I was fishing isn't wide at all (at the most, 15-20 feet), so it isn't like I could have moved very far away. So I said to the guy, "Excuse me, Sir, can I have a little bit of space?".

That must have ticked him off in some way, thinking why should some "kid" be able to fish where I want to, or something along those lines. The next thing that came out of his mouth kind of suprised me, as I wasn't looking for any trouble at all. "Oh, you fly fishermen think you're all so elite and f*#&^@% better than everyone else!". I laughed to myself and I told him, "You can have the hole, enjoy", and started walking away.

In order to get out of the spot I was fishing, I needed to walk in his direction. As I started walking away, he was staring at me, and peeled off his sunglasses like he was looking at something in awe. I said to him, "Do you need to say something to me?". Well, the next part of the story is where it gets a little scary. He tells me, "I got this knife boy! You don't want me to come over there. I'll make you pay!". That last statement I don't really remember to well, but it was something like that.

When this guy started walking towards me, I instantly freaked out. I was thinking, does he really have a knife? What else does he have? Should I hit him with my rod? I remember reading some stories on this forum about similar encounters with other rude fishermen, and I thought really quick what did those guys do?? I am 6' and 175 lbs. This guy had a couple inches on me, was in his forties with an average build. As this guy got closer to me, I reacted and put myself in the drivers seat. I threw my rod down, took two steps towards him, grabbed him by his vest, threw him on the ground, and hit him as hard as I could, and walked away.

I didn't look back to see if the guy was ok, but I had a fishing buddy check it out later that day just to see if the guy was still there - he wasn't. Basically, just a really bad experience on the water. I haven't seen that guys since. I was really shaken up afterwards thinking, "Wow, I just assaulted a guy". I later realized I was "in the right" in my actions, but I hope to never go through something like that again.

Thanks for sharing the story about the fight - I'll be sure to stay away from that stream!

Al514,

I'm glad the fight turned out well for you, though here's another way it might have turned out--and I'm not judging.

When he mentioned the knife you might have said, "Hey, I'm just trying to get out to let you have the hole since you seem to want it so bad, but I carry a gun for snakes, and if you pull a knife on me it's coming out." Then you could have reached in and unzipped an inside vest pocket. I'd guess he might back off, considering himself lucky to be able to move on and give you the spot. It might even make him think twice about being such an a-hole. Though, I'd bet that sore jaw will do the job as well.

Of course I typically have a pacifist solution for these situations not when I encounter them, but always after I've done something something very different. I have a short fuse and detest people who have no manners, and like you, I think they are always in the wrong and deserve a good stomping.

Martinlf,

If I thought of it then, that would have been something I would have thought about saying - I wasn't looking to get in a fight that day! I'm not sure if I was in the best position to bluff, though. It was something that happened so fast, when it was over, I honestly didn't even believe what actually happened.

It is a story, as my Dad says, "You shouldn't tell your Mother!"

Martinlf ; I ussually agree with alot of your opinions but I have to say trying to bluff someone with a non existent gun could have triggered the guy to strike first .It sounds like Al was trying to avoid a confrontation and might have felt like a cornered rat and if there was no way of avoiding the confrontation striking fast and hard sounds like his best defense.I applaud him for using just enough force to escape the situation and not dealing out a serious beating which it seems he was in a position to do at the point.Isnt it just awful that things like this and litter have to foul our beautiful nature and our peaceful outdoor sports?

I prefer to do my fishing with a lighter more sporting model. This one is my 28ga. with Bauer LM1

Haha, I love it. Thats great, Falsifly! Imagine the jokes you could spin off from that picture.....

"Any luck today?"
"Yea, I'm killing 'em."

Great story, Al514. That took guts. Anyone threatening someone else with a knife deserves what you gave him and more. Just glad it turned out so well for you.

-Shawn