Sep 2nd, 2010
Fished the mid-reaches of a larger creek today. It’s still a small creek, but on the SSSI scale (Small Stream Stress Index 1-5) it’s a 1 –might as well be a tailwater. Ranges from 15 to 25 feet wide and lined with mature willow –the canopy is open and understory is relatively sparse. Still I managed to hang the same dead willow branch 4 times in the 2 hrs I spent at that pool! Two hours on one pool? And on a small stream?? I may be a “Type A” angler, but I am also patient.
Yesterday I had some time to kill, having work done on my Jeep, which ended up a bigger job than expected. So I wandered the creek that runs through town, sans tackle –just observing. I’ve done a lot of that in the past, and find it fascinating. This particular creek has a number of bridges over the water offering great vantage and if you are patient and observant, the trout put on quite a show. As luck would have it, a guide and his 4 sports were working the stream. I kept moving ahead of them and watching the results from on high.
All four were relative newbs, but three of them could handle their tackle just well enough that, if they knew WHAT to do, they could be in the show. But they didn’t. The guide didn’t either. He had apparently set them all up with those giant yarn indicators, while the water was low, clear, and full of fished over browns. They also appeared to have no idea that trout were spooky, or if they did, how to handle that. The guide was NO help, in fact he kept walking between the paired sports right on the bank over the pools they were fishing! It was a sad affair. When I asked how the fishing was, they all gave me thumbs down. I overheard the guide saying “they’ve got me scratching my head”.
At one large pool I spied several browns at drift sites. The angler stepped in and the two nearest trout bolted for pool center. The guide then proceeded to walk the bank of the pool and put the rest into flight, which formed a fright huddle -9 browns from 8 to 12 inches in the deepest cut just inside the bridge shadow. After the guide left to check on the others, I called down to the angler, “Care for some un-asked-for advice?” He seemed a little sheepish (it’s tough to learn to fish with an audience) but responded, “OK.”
“There are 9 browns in the back section of this pool. They are all in a fright huddle right here.” I pointed to where they were clustered. “Give them 10 minutes and they will drop back onto feeding holds. Then, you’ve got to be very, very, VERY, sneaky with them.” He nodded and I went upstream to watch unmolested trout. Later, on my way back down I saw the same angler, this time with no indicator, but still fishing too close. “Oh well," I thought. And I could imagine the discussion at the end of their day, "A tough day on a 'tough stream' I guess."
On my way out to get my Jeep, I passed a lone angler at the tail of a long shallow pool. Just by his positioning, below the lip of the tailout, I could tell he was potentially dangerous. His casts formed nice tight loops. But, he fished too fast, covering water, which made him sloppy. His casts fell heavily and his line was spitting spray. He received a take on a longish cast and struck too soon, missing. His head fell back as he moaned, “Ooooowwwwhhhh.” Instead of checking the entire breadth of the tail of the pool, he then moved up, too quickly, crushing cobbles and throwing a slight wake. He was fishing water, not drift lanes.
At the garage I got chatting fishing with the owner, Rob, who is a fly-fisherman and just about to head to Montana for much needed R&R. I told him about the guide and his sports, shaking my head. Rob said, “Yeah this creek is darn tough in the summer. They seem to have a sixth sense. Put a line in the air and it’s like the stream is dead.” I backed off: “Yeah, I guess I should have a fly rod in my hands before I start streamside coaching.”
So, today I went back to the same pool the tight looper was in. My goal, of course, was to catch a few, observing a few “rules”:
#1: Don’t spook em! If you do, the rest is moot.
#2: While easily spooked, most trout will resume feeding after a short time period. Patience pays off as well or better than stealth.
#3: Avoid micro-drag (by position and casting). This is where the game is made or broken, even on, (seemingly) calm water.
The pool begins at an undercut willow and has a long broad shallow tail that provides a good number of drift feeding sites. Studying the reflections ahead I could see a number of turbulences from larger cobbles unseen below the surface –potential drift sites, and trouble –in terms of micro-drag. Although it was overcast and cool and small Baetis should be on, I started with a visible #14 parachute with a fluorescent post. I was also testing a rod and wanted to see the fly well. Considering conditions –low, clear, and fished over– I would have recommended to anyone a small fly.
But I did not plan on spooking fish too much, and I can be mighty patient. I found fish using sites from just inches of nearly still water at the banks (not atypical of browns), to the main current tongues. They appeared (came back on station) about 15 minutes or so after I arrived at the scene. If these were brookies, 5 minutes would have done it. I then carefully plied several drift lanes and caught 4 from 8 to 10 inches on the parachute. The 10 from a slack water lie next to the opposite bank, where a straight cast caused drag, skating the fly -slowly, but not at bank-side current speed. I think a lot of anglers wouldn’t have even noticed the difference. I used a Humphrey’s underhand cast –very cool cast –that in this case acted like a reach cast for which little body movement is required. But that's not what's cool about it. It comes in really low the the water, developed by Humphrey's to get in under overhanging vegetation. The line fell across current from the fly, allowing the fly to languish in the slow water a foot from the bank. The fish came from the very edge of the bank to smack the fly. Very cool to see such commitment.
At one point a good one –in the 12inch bracket– appeared and occupied a site about 15 feet ahead of me, chasing two smaller ones in the process as if just for sport. The fish did not stay still however, and kept shifting –not much food goin’ on and he appeared restless, even irritable. Here’s where something really interesting happened. I tried to cover him but he moved just as I cast, and came directly at me, so I froze. At that point an apple core floated down to him and he rose and bit it! No kidding! I’d love to catch a good educated low water brown like that on an apple core fly. Wouldn’t that be cool? I didn’t catch that fish. It came nearer still until it was nearly beneath my rod tip and spied me. Educated trout CAN recognize humans, even still ones; I’ve seen this enough to be pretty convinced of it.
I was now running low on time so I decided to get more serious and I moved up a bit to cover the head of the pool where the main basin and undercut are. I gently pulled out, slipped up the bank, slid back in at a shoreline tree, and re-rigged. I added a foot and a half of 6X to my 5X and knotted on a #18 RF Baetis emerger/cripple (the "more serious" part). From where I was, just behind a turbulent submerged cobble, the current exiting the basin was virtually laminar. I was able to throw progressively longer parachute casts, covering the width of the back of the basin and catching another 10 incher. Then at about 40some feet out I had a soft rise, waited a full second and a half for handling, and tightened. A good splash appeared, my rod bent deeply, and I felt a longer fish writhe. “Oooooohhhh, that’s a good fish!” It came down quickly, began to slip below and by changing rod angle got him to turn back up. He then stale-mated me for a bit, remaining upright and strong, running circles around me. I missed once with the net, before I got him above me again, turned him back down and got him in the net. I pumped the air and heard a whoop: Two young guys had been watching from the nearby bike path and one raised both arms straight up gesturing “Score!!” The trout was a big bug eater for this stream, at 14½ inches, and in fine condition.
Stealth, patience, and judicious casting paid off big in "tough" conditions.