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3. Redemption

The fish kept porpoising right in front of me, ignoring my fly, time and time again. Was it the modified nymph leader, made necessary because I took my gear bag with the dry fly spools into the house the night before and forgot to return it to the car? Or the flies, changed too often--or not often enough? Or just bad casting? Then, after what seemed like a hundred drifts it finally ate--but the hook set, fueled by built-up adrenaline, was probably too fast. The fly came out, ending an all too brief bend in the rod.

That was the scene a few nights ago. This evening, in the same spot, with a somewhat more sparse spinner fall, the right leader, a fly tied just for the purpose (Thank you Kelly Galloup), a slight pause before lifting, and possibly the same fish (same feeding pattern, anyway), it all came together on the first drift.

THAT is exactly why we love THAT river and those fish. Oh and the fact that it is gorgeously wild doesn't hurt either.

I can still sense the smile on your face my friend. Persistence may really pay off after all.

Good job, sir!

Spence

Yes!

Ditto!

Thank you, gentlemen. And while this fish has me wondering about whether or not size really matters, it did not hurt that it was the biggest brown I've ever landed on a dry fly. Icing on the cake, perhaps.

Wait a minute. You are holding out! There's more to this story....

Yes, Paul, the whole experience led me to wonder about what was more meaningful to me as a fly fisher. Had the fish been considerably smaller would I have just filed it away as an interesting, but not so memorable episode? The down and dirty fight was incredibly exciting, once I felt the weight and saw a few swirls of back and tail. And netting a fish that would barely fit in my 9X18 Fisknat San Juan put my heart in my throat. But hooking the fish, though not a simple task, took no more skill than with some smaller and perhaps equally memorable fish, and reflection brought to mind the old saw that some anglers first want to catch many fish, then big trout, then it doesn't matter, as long as the challenge tests the limits of skill. I finally may be moving on to this last category.

That was a nice story, Louis. What makes a memorable fish is more often related to the effort we put in to catch it. In fly fishing, challenges exist in every pool.

With that in mind, I'll post a story of my own, in another thread. It wasn't a big fish, and I can't say my presentation skills are worth highlighting, beyond the fact that it's easy to blow an individual fish, and if it's "a good one" you really don't want to blow it. It's nice when it works out.

I'll be looking for your next post, Paul. Your stories always entertain and sometimes amuse. I'll never forget the one about the trout who ran from flies like banshees and asked, "What are we, stupid?" Rough paraphrase, but you'll remember the tale.

OK, I went looking and couldn't find it. Spent a bit of time reading some excellent older threads, though, such as the "Leaping Brookies" one. Do you recall the title of the thread I allude to above?

And if you don't, folks can read an excerpt from the tale in the "Best of the Forum--most interesting quotes" [sic] thread. It appears I posted it up there some time ago. :)

Louis...I like that about you, sir...Always trying to push it a little further along...Understand a bit why we stand in the middle of a river somewhere, sometimes in crappy conditions, staring into our fly boxes. :) It could be a Zen thing, if I knew what that meant.

Spence

Louis - no picture??? Congrats in any case, sounds like some serious effort well rewarded! All the sweeter on a dry fly.

Jonathon

Lovely story! It is so gratifying when it works out the way you hope.

It sounds like you don't care about the size, but would you share how big it was? I'm still stuck in that big fish phase. Maybe I'll lift out of that after I have a few under my belt, but all in time.

Nice Louis! persistance pays off. I have a score to settle with a fish that I have hooked twice so far this year. I dont think its huge but im pretty sure it's pushing the 20" mark. I have stuck him twice and that was that. But I know where he lives and will be back.

I had a fish haunting (or should I say taunting!) me late last season on the Rifle. I had popped an 18-incher in this hole - my biggest yet - and I knew he couldn't be the only one in there. On my very last two trips of the season out there, I got so close to another fish of similar size that I could almost stepped on him, seriously I turned on the light to unhook a snag and there he was right in front of me. On the second trip he slurped, but did not get hooked on, a #10 "Lime" Royal Wulff (chartreuse floss instead of red). Now...same fish I caught and is just getting to know me, or another fish of similar size (he was close) in the same hole...??? Need to throw a few Hennies over him...

I'm still waiting for my official first trout fishing launch. Past weekend was nice but GEEZ the tourists were thick, as evidenced by a local campground just about packed with RVs and campers. I let the "downbelowers" as we call them up here have the run of the place. Kids were spooking the steelhead off their beds at Three Pipes...and there's a bunch of fish there, need to throw the 8-weight at them...

At least it finally looks and feels like SPRING. Wildflowers are blooming like mad, friends already found black morels, panfish & bass are hitting, just need to find a weekday with decent weather to avoid the tourist hordes.

Jonathon

Here is the one you were remembering, Louis:
http://www.troutnut.com/topic/6667/Turbulence-and-Trout-Heaven-and-Hell-in-One-Location

Louis, I wonder if the sparser fall wasn't part of the answer. The fact you mention it suggests you suspect this too? If the first night had a dense fall, fish could have been extremely myopic -and maybe holding closer to the surface with the miniscus obscuring vision over any distance?

Something I became aware of was how trout purposely expanded their view (via window and mirror) by dropping deeper. When an emergence was cooking along at a manageable pace in my small to mid-sized creeks, the better trout in the better pools would dominate the main current tongues. But they held about 2feet down which gave them the best view of the bugs sweeping in from the riffle above.

But spinner falls were often dense enough that the trout would often end up close to the surface and extremely myopic. That and the density made catching those fish more time consuming. But a light fall with more an easier pace to rise timing, made the catching much easier.

I'm sure this is well known to you, but I thought I'd put it out there for others and just to talk fishing.

Window size and rise timing can explain a bunch of such fish, but not all. Sometimes fish will categorize your fly as "not food" bc of micro-drag or it's just not fitting the search image. Then there are the fish we swear "know" our fly is dangerous. The srutinizers and flat out refusers.

Then there was a guide I met there that told me that fishing downstream solved a lot of presentation issues, in particular, the “lining” of fish in which the presence of the tippet or leader put jaded fish off. It did work, but was not always practical.

I used to fish the Big D with Ed Brothers, a very serious dry fly guy who caught a lot of big trout there. His fly of choice a simply parachute. His feeling was that presentation trumps ... most (along the lines of Ed Van Put's thinking).

Ed (Brothers) could be very diligent on an individual fish, and he often caught them -eventually. But I did see him once come off the river ashen faced and near tears -I swear his lower lip trembled as he wailed half in disbelief, "They...wouldn't...take ...ANYTHING! It was utter heartbreak, the life appeared to be drained from his soul. The ride back to Ithaca was wrought with explanations and justifications, then theorizing, and then … acceptance. I’ve often felt that every day I go through the stages of dying. And every now and then, I go to sleep in triumph. The value of delayed gratification is not lost on fisherman, but a survival tool.

Paul...:) Been there, done that. Most of us probably have as well. There are some fish I never figured out...I don't like to think about all the time I spent over them, the mass of flies tried, the furtive looks around, hoping someone's not watching me and laughing their behind off! :) The intense obsession that leaves you, like your pal Ed, questioning yourself. Asking yourself, "Why didn't I take to golf?"

My mentor Willy, would just shake his head, and yell at me to go find a more cooperative fish, one sitting in an easier spot, "Spence. We do need, eventually, to get back to the car."

A wild trout, in a feeding lane, actually rising over and over again...Well...To me, that's what its all about. The chess game of our pastime. Time slides by and there we stand, staring in to the fly box with a feeling that maybe, just maybe, its not in there.

Winning isn't always what its cracked up to be...I remember in high school a girl, a blonde, that would always smile at me when we passed each other in the hall. This went on for some time before I decided to approach her. I remember sitting outside her house with her and her girlfriend (they always seem to have a backup)...Before we actually spoke I let my imagination run wild, she was cute after all, and had created so many goofy 16-17 year old scenarios in my head...The year was 1971-72? I was going to be in that 18 year old group that were the first 18 year old's to be able to vote...As the evening progressed it came to light that she was a rabid Nixonite and at the time I was light years further left than McGovern, but was going to vote for him anyway...I got spanked twice that year! Lost interest in the girl, and McGovern barely carried his own home state! Ouch!:)

I guess what I'm saying is, it may all be about the process...Sometimes reality is a tad to real to bear! :)

There was a trout on the Madison in 1995...:)

Spence

Now that I look back at it, they did finally realize I was right about Mr Nixon and they sent him packing...Hmm...Guess I'll stand here a little longer, and maybe try just one more fly. ;)

Part of me wants to know how big it was, but at the same time I understand the sense of accomplishment...which trumps the size of the fish any day. Other users have have summed up this topic nicely, but I really enjoyed the story. It made me think of similar situations I've experienced in the past.

I'm not sure if there is anything better than getting a second chance in fly fishing, or in life really, and doing your best with it.

Louis -From what you've posted on here, it is interesting to hear how you're reflecting after catching this fish. Maybe it'll take a couple more lunker browns for you to really figure out where you stand!

Sorry for the silence guys, I've been up on another river Spence fished, staying a few days with a buddy at his camp. The fish in question was about 22-23," measured hurriedly along my rod before getting it back in the water quickly. (OK, not that big for a lifetime achievement on a dry fly, but for me a PB.)

As for better evidence, I simply lack confidence in my ability to pose a fish for a photo without increasing the risk it won't revive, so regrettably, no photo. The diminished spinner fall did seem a potential factor, among others. Ultimately the difference between success and failure seems a mystery that continually eludes me, though.

As for the size thing, while fishing the last few days, one evening the choice of fishing over some very well educated smaller fish or moving slightly downstream to a spot where bigger fish lurked presented itself. Other variables were in play, including an approaching storm and staying closer to the car, but I opted for the smaller fish and thoroughly enjoyed having some of them beat me up pretty well. Not sure the corner has been turned fully, but the turn signal is on.

Damn! That Spence guy is poking around in everyone's water! ;)

Maybe some day we should install a tracking device in his ear lobe.