12-05-2007, 02:26 PM
A great day of fishing even with a bum leg..
The morning was clear and cool for a California November. The lake was calm with the last remnants of mist dissipating slowly as the sun rose higher in the sky. This was a day of fishing that would bring my heart closer to understanding some of the mysteries surrounding fly fishing and my brain continually asking “What do those fish want?”
I arrived at the lake and was standing on the shoreline of a promising spot by 7:00 a.m... As I said before the water was calm with a dissipating mist on the water. I had selected a spot with a large reed bed extended from the shoreline and jutting about twenty feet out into the water. This reed bed was on my left as I faced the water and the rest of the lake open to me on my right. To get to this spot I had to step down off a low embankment to the shoreline. Please keep this embankment in mind as the story progresses.
As I looked over the water I could see an occasional rise of a fish on the water proving this, to me anyway, a good spot to start. I rigged up my fly rod and opened my fly box trying to remember all the advice I had read on my favorite fly fishing site. I decided to “test” the waters with a small wooly bugger. Since the water was calm and relatively clear I opted for a lighter green #10 fly. I had hopes this would at least catch the fishes attention. As the morning went on I tried several colors of the buggers and different fly patterns such as the royal wullf and the hares ear nymphs.
As I had read I cast in different directions and pulled my line back in. Since I especially sure that the reed bed would best bet at catching a fish I did tend to favor the water in that area.
Due to the closeness of trees and bushes behind me, plus my being a novice to fly fishing, I kept getting my fly snagged in a tree limb or on a low lying bush. On several occasions while trying to reclaim them I would end up losing them. Each time I had to go fetch a fly I would have to step up the small embankment and walk my way uphill to the fly loving tree branch or bush. On the return trip to my spot Id have to step down from or jump off the low embankment.
All was going as well as could be expected considering my skill level and general fishing abilities. Once again on a back cast I snagged yet another pine tree branch. I turned and tugged lightly on the fly in hopes the branch would be nice and release my fly. So, mumbling my frustrations under my breath I stepped up onto the embankment, slipping ever so slightly, and walked up to the tree and ended up losing my fly all together. My frustration rose a point with the thought of losing yet another fly and having to start it all over again. As I walked to the waters edge my mind was more on my frustration then where I was going. Without realizing it until it was too late I stepped down in to a muddy area of the shoreline. As would be expected, and looking back was probably forewarned on my slight slip going up the embankment, my left foot went out from underneath me and my reaction was to try to catch myself on by putting my right foot down quickly. This forced all of my weight to be quickly shifted to my right foot. I immediately felt a hard pull on my right thigh. In reaction I all but jumped up and again forced all of my weight to come down on to my right leg. As I grimaced in pain, muttering a series of words I cannot repeat here, I realized that I had pulled the thigh muscle. Being the hard headed Irishman that I am I walked back and forth on the shoreline trying to ease the throb in my leg. After a few minutes I had convince myself that it would be okay and to continue fishing.
With all that had occurred I made the decision to move to a different location in hopes of doing better. I gathered my gear and gingerly walked up the embankment and headed to the walking path that surrounds the lake.
As I walked the path slowly I realized that in order to continue to a new spot I would have to navigate a series of large boulders that were part of the path. Taking my wading staff in hand, tightening my lips in determination I climbed over the boulders and up to the continuation of the hiking path. I paused briefly to rub my thigh and to look over the water from this higher vantage point. As I scanned the water I noted a large reed bed and decided to try my luck there. I proceeded along the path, favoring my now throbbing thigh, and used my wading staff to continue aide me in keeping my balance.
To my dismay I got to the area of the reed bed and realized I would have to negotiate myself about twelve feet down a larger embankment to a small shoreline area whose center piece was two large flat stones that would allow me to stand at the waters edge while fishing. I briefly debated the pros and cons of going down the embankment and decided to do a Rocky Stallone and “go for it”. I hobbled, slipped, cussed and eventually worked my way down to the two large rocks, but in doing so almost fell into the lake. My last step down the slope and my momentum caused me to do a quick ‘’two step” to the rocks where I fought and eventually won the battle of keeping my balance. The battle was won but it further aggravated my leg.
As I stood on the rocks I noted my surroundings. Immediately to my left was a very small shoreline area where I could set my thing down and have a place to rig up my fly line. The area was about eight feet long and about four feet wide at its greatest width. The step down between the rocks I would be standing on and this area was a few inches. I rationalized that it would not cause a problem even with my sore leg. Thankfully, I was correct. To my right I could almost see the area I had just come from. A much smaller reed bed and a few plants and bushes I do not know the name of caused a minor obstruction to my being able to see the “old” area completely. I realized that this obstruction, especially the bushes and small trees, would provide me cover from the fish being able to see me or my shadow as the morning wore on. In front and slightly to the left of me was the large reed bed I had noted on the hilltop. It was about ten feet deeper out into the water and extended to my left at least twenty feet. The reeds were tall and green and very dense. I figured that if I had a chance to catch any fish this would be the area. Since this new area was more open than my first spot the sun shone on me and I basked in its warmth an rubbed my thigh in an attempt to keep it loose and working. As before the water was clear and got to at least two feet deep or more only a foot or so off the shoreline. In my mind this would be a prime fishing area for that huge trout or bass I had dreamed of the night before.
Determined now to see the day through I scanned the water and could see several fish rising at either end of the large reed bed. Looking closer at the water inches from my feet I could see numerous small fish swimming. I could not identify the species from this vantage point but felt my heart beat rise a bit at the chance of catching a few fish. Since the water was very clear I could see the fish clearly swimming around but realized that if I could see them, they could probably see me. I stepped back a few inches and tried to blend in more with my surroundings and continued to watch these little “fellers” swimming back and forth.
I decided on my course of action and rigged my line with a #12 royal wullf and cast it off to my left. As I let it float in the water I would give it a gentle tug. It slowly sank below the water and as it got closer to me I could see the small fish swimming over to it, give it a glance or maybe a slight bump, and then swim away. Some continued checking the fly out each time I moved it.
After retrieving my line in I cast to my right, and then in front of me. On each cast and retrieve I noted with a
the same reaction by the fish over and over. A good look see, maybe a light nudge, and then move away. I continued the left, right, and center casting sequence for a bit but the fish simply would not take the fly. They showed an interest but it was just not what they wanted.
I decided to change out my fly and try again. As I looked in my fly box I noted a selection of bead head hares ear nymph I had gotten in from a mail order site a week or so earlier. As I looked at the fly I recalled FG and others telling me that it was a good to fly to use when the fish just don’t seem interested in other flies. I figured I could not do any worse so I selected a #12 and tied it on. As I prepared to cast it out for the first time I whispered a small prayer to the patron saints of fishing (and whoever else up there that would listen to me).
I cast out to my left as I did before and watched as the fly hit the water and sank slowly to the bottom. Initially the fishes reactions were the same as before where the fish would “check out the fly” and then swim away. I retrieved my line as before where I kept the fly on the bottom or close to it. This kept the fishes interest but not to a point of wanting to take a nibble.
After several casts in all directions I started to get a little bugged about the fishes reactions. I knew they were telling me that I was not quite right on with the fly but was not sure why. I decided to look into my fly box again and see what I could come up with.
The fly that caught my attention was the group of bead head flashback pt nymphs that I had gotten in with the same shipment as the hares ears. The only difference I noted between the two flies was the flashback. They looked so similar in size and design that I had not noted it before. Once again my thoughts ran to online comments made by FG and others on this also being a go to fly. I figured I had nothing to lose so I tied on a #12 and got prepared to cast and see.
Again I cast to my left but this time I let the fly settle completely before starting my retrieve. Frustratingly I was getting the same reaction. I was just about fed up when a miracle happen. As I was retrieving my line my nose started to itch so instinctively I reached up to scratch it. As I did this the fly came up to just below the surface and then settled back down. The reaction by the fish was immediate and hard. I as I watched the fish seemed to swarm the fly, especially as it slowly sank to the bottom. Noting this I decided to give a good tug on the line in an attempt to make the fly rise and fall as before. I tugged a little harder than before and the fly came toward me as it rose and then slowly fell back down. I was actually startled by the fishes reaction. When they saw the fly move away and up they just could not resist it and actually chased it until it hit the bottom again. I repeated the tug/pull motion and the fly did as before. The fish chased it as before but then something unexpected happen.
As the fly was moving forward a second group of fish came out of the reeds. This group attacked the fly. It seems they had been lurking and saw something they liked. One of fish of this group hit my fly really hard. It took me a moment to realize I could no longer see the sun glinting off the bead head or the flash back. I lifted my rod slowly keeping tension on the line. I felt a good twitch and then a tug and knew I had a fish on. I retrieved the rest of my line steadily keeping the rod tip up. I knew it was not a large fish but my rod had a slight bend in it and I could feel the fish fighting. As it the got closer I realized it was a small one but he did have amazing fight in him.
I got the fish to hand and with a great big on my face I noted it was a small bluegill that I had hooked into. He was just under palmed size but feisty as could be. He wiggled and tried to jump in my hand. He was small enough that his movements kind of tickled my palm. I removed the hook and gently released him back into the water. He shot back to the reed bed like a rocket.
I noted to myself that I had finally heard and understood what the fish were trying to tell me. Or had I? I assumed it was the fly that got the fish going but in reality it was not. At one point I decided to try the hares ear nymph again and just use the same retrieval technique. I cast and retrieved that fly for about a half hour only to see the fish doing the same thing as when I first started. They would follow the fly, kind of sniff at it, and then go on their way.
I did switch back to the bead head flashback pt nymph and spent the rest of my fishing time catching one small bluegill after another. The story the fish were trying to tell me was that they wanted the fly with the flash back and they wanted the retrieve where the fly rose and moved away from them. It was almost as if they were in a mood to play a game of chase with a shiny new playmate. It just took me a while to figure out the rules of their game.
In all I caught and released at least twenty five of the palm sized fish and probably missed hooking a good seven to ten more.
I came away from that day of fishing with a good lesson learned on how to listen to the fish talk. I learned it is sometimes as much technique as fly selection or maybe a combination of both. The biggest lesson I learned is to keep experimenting until you get the fish to pay attention to and decide that your fly is the one they want for that meal.
Oh, and one last lesson I learned was to watch where I was stepping so I don’t pull a leg muscle and almost not make it home because of it….. but that is a completely different part of this story that may be told another day..
[signature]
The morning was clear and cool for a California November. The lake was calm with the last remnants of mist dissipating slowly as the sun rose higher in the sky. This was a day of fishing that would bring my heart closer to understanding some of the mysteries surrounding fly fishing and my brain continually asking “What do those fish want?”
I arrived at the lake and was standing on the shoreline of a promising spot by 7:00 a.m... As I said before the water was calm with a dissipating mist on the water. I had selected a spot with a large reed bed extended from the shoreline and jutting about twenty feet out into the water. This reed bed was on my left as I faced the water and the rest of the lake open to me on my right. To get to this spot I had to step down off a low embankment to the shoreline. Please keep this embankment in mind as the story progresses.
As I looked over the water I could see an occasional rise of a fish on the water proving this, to me anyway, a good spot to start. I rigged up my fly rod and opened my fly box trying to remember all the advice I had read on my favorite fly fishing site. I decided to “test” the waters with a small wooly bugger. Since the water was calm and relatively clear I opted for a lighter green #10 fly. I had hopes this would at least catch the fishes attention. As the morning went on I tried several colors of the buggers and different fly patterns such as the royal wullf and the hares ear nymphs.
As I had read I cast in different directions and pulled my line back in. Since I especially sure that the reed bed would best bet at catching a fish I did tend to favor the water in that area.
Due to the closeness of trees and bushes behind me, plus my being a novice to fly fishing, I kept getting my fly snagged in a tree limb or on a low lying bush. On several occasions while trying to reclaim them I would end up losing them. Each time I had to go fetch a fly I would have to step up the small embankment and walk my way uphill to the fly loving tree branch or bush. On the return trip to my spot Id have to step down from or jump off the low embankment.
All was going as well as could be expected considering my skill level and general fishing abilities. Once again on a back cast I snagged yet another pine tree branch. I turned and tugged lightly on the fly in hopes the branch would be nice and release my fly. So, mumbling my frustrations under my breath I stepped up onto the embankment, slipping ever so slightly, and walked up to the tree and ended up losing my fly all together. My frustration rose a point with the thought of losing yet another fly and having to start it all over again. As I walked to the waters edge my mind was more on my frustration then where I was going. Without realizing it until it was too late I stepped down in to a muddy area of the shoreline. As would be expected, and looking back was probably forewarned on my slight slip going up the embankment, my left foot went out from underneath me and my reaction was to try to catch myself on by putting my right foot down quickly. This forced all of my weight to be quickly shifted to my right foot. I immediately felt a hard pull on my right thigh. In reaction I all but jumped up and again forced all of my weight to come down on to my right leg. As I grimaced in pain, muttering a series of words I cannot repeat here, I realized that I had pulled the thigh muscle. Being the hard headed Irishman that I am I walked back and forth on the shoreline trying to ease the throb in my leg. After a few minutes I had convince myself that it would be okay and to continue fishing.
With all that had occurred I made the decision to move to a different location in hopes of doing better. I gathered my gear and gingerly walked up the embankment and headed to the walking path that surrounds the lake.
As I walked the path slowly I realized that in order to continue to a new spot I would have to navigate a series of large boulders that were part of the path. Taking my wading staff in hand, tightening my lips in determination I climbed over the boulders and up to the continuation of the hiking path. I paused briefly to rub my thigh and to look over the water from this higher vantage point. As I scanned the water I noted a large reed bed and decided to try my luck there. I proceeded along the path, favoring my now throbbing thigh, and used my wading staff to continue aide me in keeping my balance.
To my dismay I got to the area of the reed bed and realized I would have to negotiate myself about twelve feet down a larger embankment to a small shoreline area whose center piece was two large flat stones that would allow me to stand at the waters edge while fishing. I briefly debated the pros and cons of going down the embankment and decided to do a Rocky Stallone and “go for it”. I hobbled, slipped, cussed and eventually worked my way down to the two large rocks, but in doing so almost fell into the lake. My last step down the slope and my momentum caused me to do a quick ‘’two step” to the rocks where I fought and eventually won the battle of keeping my balance. The battle was won but it further aggravated my leg.
As I stood on the rocks I noted my surroundings. Immediately to my left was a very small shoreline area where I could set my thing down and have a place to rig up my fly line. The area was about eight feet long and about four feet wide at its greatest width. The step down between the rocks I would be standing on and this area was a few inches. I rationalized that it would not cause a problem even with my sore leg. Thankfully, I was correct. To my right I could almost see the area I had just come from. A much smaller reed bed and a few plants and bushes I do not know the name of caused a minor obstruction to my being able to see the “old” area completely. I realized that this obstruction, especially the bushes and small trees, would provide me cover from the fish being able to see me or my shadow as the morning wore on. In front and slightly to the left of me was the large reed bed I had noted on the hilltop. It was about ten feet deeper out into the water and extended to my left at least twenty feet. The reeds were tall and green and very dense. I figured that if I had a chance to catch any fish this would be the area. Since this new area was more open than my first spot the sun shone on me and I basked in its warmth an rubbed my thigh in an attempt to keep it loose and working. As before the water was clear and got to at least two feet deep or more only a foot or so off the shoreline. In my mind this would be a prime fishing area for that huge trout or bass I had dreamed of the night before.
Determined now to see the day through I scanned the water and could see several fish rising at either end of the large reed bed. Looking closer at the water inches from my feet I could see numerous small fish swimming. I could not identify the species from this vantage point but felt my heart beat rise a bit at the chance of catching a few fish. Since the water was very clear I could see the fish clearly swimming around but realized that if I could see them, they could probably see me. I stepped back a few inches and tried to blend in more with my surroundings and continued to watch these little “fellers” swimming back and forth.
I decided on my course of action and rigged my line with a #12 royal wullf and cast it off to my left. As I let it float in the water I would give it a gentle tug. It slowly sank below the water and as it got closer to me I could see the small fish swimming over to it, give it a glance or maybe a slight bump, and then swim away. Some continued checking the fly out each time I moved it.
After retrieving my line in I cast to my right, and then in front of me. On each cast and retrieve I noted with a
the same reaction by the fish over and over. A good look see, maybe a light nudge, and then move away. I continued the left, right, and center casting sequence for a bit but the fish simply would not take the fly. They showed an interest but it was just not what they wanted. I decided to change out my fly and try again. As I looked in my fly box I noted a selection of bead head hares ear nymph I had gotten in from a mail order site a week or so earlier. As I looked at the fly I recalled FG and others telling me that it was a good to fly to use when the fish just don’t seem interested in other flies. I figured I could not do any worse so I selected a #12 and tied it on. As I prepared to cast it out for the first time I whispered a small prayer to the patron saints of fishing (and whoever else up there that would listen to me).
I cast out to my left as I did before and watched as the fly hit the water and sank slowly to the bottom. Initially the fishes reactions were the same as before where the fish would “check out the fly” and then swim away. I retrieved my line as before where I kept the fly on the bottom or close to it. This kept the fishes interest but not to a point of wanting to take a nibble.
After several casts in all directions I started to get a little bugged about the fishes reactions. I knew they were telling me that I was not quite right on with the fly but was not sure why. I decided to look into my fly box again and see what I could come up with.
The fly that caught my attention was the group of bead head flashback pt nymphs that I had gotten in with the same shipment as the hares ears. The only difference I noted between the two flies was the flashback. They looked so similar in size and design that I had not noted it before. Once again my thoughts ran to online comments made by FG and others on this also being a go to fly. I figured I had nothing to lose so I tied on a #12 and got prepared to cast and see.
Again I cast to my left but this time I let the fly settle completely before starting my retrieve. Frustratingly I was getting the same reaction. I was just about fed up when a miracle happen. As I was retrieving my line my nose started to itch so instinctively I reached up to scratch it. As I did this the fly came up to just below the surface and then settled back down. The reaction by the fish was immediate and hard. I as I watched the fish seemed to swarm the fly, especially as it slowly sank to the bottom. Noting this I decided to give a good tug on the line in an attempt to make the fly rise and fall as before. I tugged a little harder than before and the fly came toward me as it rose and then slowly fell back down. I was actually startled by the fishes reaction. When they saw the fly move away and up they just could not resist it and actually chased it until it hit the bottom again. I repeated the tug/pull motion and the fly did as before. The fish chased it as before but then something unexpected happen.
As the fly was moving forward a second group of fish came out of the reeds. This group attacked the fly. It seems they had been lurking and saw something they liked. One of fish of this group hit my fly really hard. It took me a moment to realize I could no longer see the sun glinting off the bead head or the flash back. I lifted my rod slowly keeping tension on the line. I felt a good twitch and then a tug and knew I had a fish on. I retrieved the rest of my line steadily keeping the rod tip up. I knew it was not a large fish but my rod had a slight bend in it and I could feel the fish fighting. As it the got closer I realized it was a small one but he did have amazing fight in him.
I got the fish to hand and with a great big
on my face I noted it was a small bluegill that I had hooked into. He was just under palmed size but feisty as could be. He wiggled and tried to jump in my hand. He was small enough that his movements kind of tickled my palm. I removed the hook and gently released him back into the water. He shot back to the reed bed like a rocket. I noted to myself that I had finally heard and understood what the fish were trying to tell me. Or had I? I assumed it was the fly that got the fish going but in reality it was not. At one point I decided to try the hares ear nymph again and just use the same retrieval technique. I cast and retrieved that fly for about a half hour only to see the fish doing the same thing as when I first started. They would follow the fly, kind of sniff at it, and then go on their way.
I did switch back to the bead head flashback pt nymph and spent the rest of my fishing time catching one small bluegill after another. The story the fish were trying to tell me was that they wanted the fly with the flash back and they wanted the retrieve where the fly rose and moved away from them. It was almost as if they were in a mood to play a game of chase with a shiny new playmate. It just took me a while to figure out the rules of their game.
In all I caught and released at least twenty five of the palm sized fish and probably missed hooking a good seven to ten more.
I came away from that day of fishing with a good lesson learned on how to listen to the fish talk. I learned it is sometimes as much technique as fly selection or maybe a combination of both. The biggest lesson I learned is to keep experimenting until you get the fish to pay attention to and decide that your fly is the one they want for that meal.
Oh, and one last lesson I learned was to watch where I was stepping so I don’t pull a leg muscle and almost not make it home because of it….. but that is a completely different part of this story that may be told another day..
[signature]