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3. I'm glad no one else was there!

Went up to Clarks Creek today and it was as high, but good visibilty, as I've ever seen it. I decided to use my Carpenter 7' 6" cane rod with the vintage LRH. Well right off the bat the tippet got all wrapped around the tip section so I put the reel into the water. Well sand got into the reel and it sounded like a broken coffee grinder. So I took the spool out and rinsed the cage and the spool. I guess I didn't engage the spool retainer because on my next roll cast the spool fell out of the reel.

It was swift and just too deep to stick my arm into the water. So I said "What the heck am I going to do"? I figured I'd have to let all the line, and backing come off the spool and then shake it through the guides. So there I am letting 90 feet of fly line go down stream and another 50 yards of chartruese dacron backing. I'm so glad no one else was below me as it would of been very embarrassing. I was finally able to get the spool up in the water column and pulled it back towards me and retrieve it.

Then as I started to reel all the backing onto the reel I realized I had gotten the flies snagged on something over 200' downstream. So I had to walk down and reel at the same time until I go all the way down to the snag. I didn't want to lose the flies after all this so I stuck my arm into the water up to my elbow.

Oh, and no I didn't catch any fish either!

Hey, look on the bright side...you didn't fall in! CJ

That's a great story, Matt. One I know well, in many forms.

I came to call such periods, "episodes". They were seemingly so... improbable. And they happened just frequently enough (over the years) that I had to fix a label to it. That way I could catch an episode developing -like the perfect storm- and I'd say outloud, "Episode!", and I'd pick a log or boulder, sit right down and... essentially meditate -or as I described it, "Get my sht together."

It would take about 5 minutes of what amounted to deep-breathing exercises until tranquility and focus returned. Seems like a big waste of time, but an "episode" let run amok was worse!

It was kinda comical and I got a good laugh from it! Pretty much showed me I'm not so cool and collected after all.

Ah the dreaded "Episode". Hah! Thats the perfect descriptor for it Paul. Some days things just seem to go wrong. And for me it usually begins early in the outing with a tangled leader and from there quickly plummets into a series of events that somehow I always know it's going to be one of those days.

Too funny Matt, though I'm sure it was anything but at the time. Such "episodes" do make great stories though.

I had one a couple of years ago as it was getting dark on the Pine River. I did have a successful evening, having caught and released 18 trout if I remember correctly. Well, after the 18th fish, I suddenly discovered that my trailing fly line had gotten all tangled up in my trailing net cord, and then the whole mess had gotten wrapped completely around me, and I think that the tippet got into the works too. I felt like I was caught in a spider web! It took some time to untangle and extricate myself from the mess, at which point I decided I had fished enough for that night...

Jonathon

Sorry Matt! I know that wasn't what you were looking forward to. You and JohnW, and I were talking about you finding your Mojo and you start out like this.

We have all been in those spots where we are happy to be alone...Maybe that's why we all fish so much by ourselves. :)

My first fish on the Madison in 1995 was one where I was happy to be alone.I had fished a good length of time and not caught anything and I was thinking in my head, "I'm going to be here for two weeks! How am I going to deal with this raging river?!"

It was a 20" Bow and off it went! I started to follow it and almost went in with my 35mm camera! It took me a few days before I started to feel better wading there. I finally got the fish near me and it was bull-dogging down in a hole rocking back and forth trying to get free.

I pulled my dinky Au Sable net out and stuck it in the river only to spook the fish. He shook his head a couple times violently and away he went. Ping! I looked around and was relieved that I didn't see anyone watching this comedy. On returning to Ennis I purchased a waterproof throwaway camera and put the good one away.

It is big of you to share this...You could of kept it to yourself. :)

Spence

Spence,

"It is big of you to share this...You could of kept it to yourself. :)"

Ah, I'm bigger than my pratfalls.

That's why I sit down and … let some time pass. Kind of like a "restart" to the day -or at least to that moment in the day.

Successful outcomes in fishing (and hunting) are highly improbable events to begin with. They become much more so as we increase our skills and knowledge and refine our methods. Our expectations follow merrily along.

For me, an episode builds simply bc I'm moving too fast, hacking at a challenging world that won't yield to sheer will. Which, is why I just sit down, take some deep breaths, look off into the wonderful scene around me and just appreciate where I am. The fish can wait … a few minutes at least.

You know Paul, more often than not when fly fishing a stream, I just feel like a massive tangle waiting to happen, at any second...at the end of most nights I am thankful just to have not lost too many flies or broken the rod - or find the car missing!

Jonathon

Thanks Jonathan, that made me laugh. And I've known that feeling.

It is funny to hear other stories of these common fly fishing mishaps!! I've had a few epic f***-ups, a lot of marginal ones, and it seems always the little ones. They have definitely seemed to decrease in frequency the longer I've been fly fishing, but they still happen. You gotta just try and roll with the punches and get past them!

Still beats my day!

I've had my share of slips, falls, and water-over-the wader adventures, although one was strange enough to tell the story. I was on the Little Manistee last May, downstream of the campground at Old Grade. Working downstream I came to a narrows in the channel, 16' feet wide or so...it had a good current but not impassable so I went on through. A brown post was right in the middle of the channel, and since it was brown I figured it marked the edge of the National Forest. No sign, no markings, nothing- just a post. As I waded through the bottom was shifting under my feet, and I just figured it was sandy and the current was moving pretty fast. Couple hours later I worked my way back upstream, through the narrows and the same moving sand. When I got back to the campground the Host asked how I'd done and how far I'd gone. "Did you see the sign in the river warning about the quicksand?' he asked. Whoah, I said...he just laughed and cussed out 'the kayakers' who were prone to removing the sign.

Roguerat

I Peter 5:7 'Cast your cares upon Him...'