So maybe I should consider a wading staff?

With the weatherman calling for an all day rain I dutifully set up shop in the garage and painted storms all morning.  When I emerged from the garage at noon it had stopped raining and the sun was out.  The weatherman and I are not currently speaking.

Left camp at 12:30 with the prediction still calling for afternoon showers and evening t-boomers.  Spent the afternoon pool hopping on the BK and UE.  Found fish in all but one pool and was entertained trying to convince them that my flies were good enough to eat.  Lost the only three year old I hooked but caught enough two year olds to make it a sweaty but enjoyable afternoon.

Then things got interesting.  Went to the BR  about six.  Fished the place I was headed to last night when all the trailers dissuaded me.  It was dead.  Nothing, no bugs, no risers, not even any boats. It had to be seven when I saw the first splashy rise ( an iso nymph chaser).  Soon thereafter flies began to hatch.  There were white flies, olives, isos and cahills.  The fish took note and began to feed.  It's now probably 7:15 or later and I've got targets and am hooking fish and chasing them downstream as backing vanishes from my reel.  It's a hoot!!!!  When it's "on" on the big river there's no greater rush for a fly fisherman.  Sorta like a cowboy riding a bull at the rodeo.

It's now probably 7:40, the fish are still rising and I walking upstream looking for risers when a large boulder caught my toe in mid stride.  Managed to get the foot on top of the boulder but my momentum carried me forward and required two or three more rapid steps replete with the flailing of both arms and the dunking of one arm to regain my balance. Stood up and a fish rose not twenty feet from me. My line was wrapped around my head, the leader was twisted around the rod and the fly? You know where it was - tangled in the landing net which had come over my shoulder during my fight with gravity. I untangled the whole mess and the fish obligingly rose again. I made the short cast, the fish ate, made two jumps and gave me back my fly.  Reeled it in, turned on my flashlight, crossed the river without further incident, climbed the hill and walked back to the car.  It was 8:05 when I started the car. That 45 minutes on the BR is why I fly fish.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

All my life's a circle.

  Headed down to the Lordville Estate about nine this morning after watching a nice buck decide  not to tend the scrape I was perched above. Drove through Deposit where the Troutfitter Shop was dark and closed for the season. My fishing equipment did not make the trip. Had far too many things to do in the few hours of daylight we are currently being allotted. The doe with two fawns was in the backyard when I arrived and was joined by the orphaned button buck who spends his time either bedded down in my flower garden or walking around under the peach trees looking for the peaches he grew so fond of in September. Arrived with a trailer full of wood hitched to Jean's car (it has the trailer hitch) and spent the first hour replenishing the wood I burned this season. As if by magic both wood piles topped out just below the garage windows. Was interrupted by the button buck who walked up between the house and the garage and stood watching the wood stacking operation. A river friend and f
Read more

IT'S GOOD TO BE BACK HOME AGAIN!

 It's Wednesday night, a fire is going in the fire place, an empty Perfect Manhattan glass is washed and back up on the shelf, 30 shrimp netted from Zane Gray Creek ((did you know that Zane Gray (famous fly fisherman and writer of westerns) was a dentist and that his office is now a museum that you can visit on the Delaware River?)), have been consumed by Jean and me, prior to the three pieces of venison backstrap that traveled from home to Florida and back, an early spring snowstorm is raging outside and most importantly, we're glad to be back home again! With that season opening sentence, Mrs. Haskins has no doubt thrown in the towel and disavowed all responsibility for my literary malfunctions. Run on sentences she could handle, but my never before attempted "double aside" was apparently beyond the pall. I sent her a "Go Duke" banner with apologies and hopefully she will cool off before the fishing heats up. Our trip back home was uneventful. Started at 2
Read more

A rational explanation escapes me.

 Yesterday after driving up and down the "Sulfur Zone" in the afternoon without seeing bugs or rising fish, I headed back to Lordville without even putting my waders on. Headed out again at 6:00, got into the river around 6:30 and had two hours of delightful dry fly fishing to medium sized fish eating duns in a good sulfur hatch. Today, I made the trip up to deposit at about 1:30 figuring the cloud cover would delay the hatch (if any), it did, but by 2:30 the afternoon sulfurs were going and the fish were up and on them. Enjoyed about two hours of good fishing with four decent fish hooked and landed, two yearlings landed and a passel of refusals. About 4:30 the rise forms changed to boils and my fly was ignored. Tried half a dozen flies without so much as a look from the still feeding fish. Was happy with the afternoon fishing, (a big step up from Sunday), and at 5:00 it was too late to drive all the way back to Lordville. Decided to get something at Wendy's (calorie capi
Read more