06-24-2007, 01:07 AM
Back in the 
dle again I guess. I am red faced, sick and excited. Let's dive in.
The night before I am at my vice cranking out a fly I hear works wonders. In 15 minutes, I crank out 4 cracklebacks. 2 red, 2 yellow. Good looking flies that are supposed to do well in the summer. Easy to tie, great to fish. I will tie these for our next fly swap (hint, hint). It was great to hit the vice again, and staring at the flies, I picture myself on the river, hoisting 25 inch browns, ahhh, life. (Didn't produce on the river, but this fly would be hot in the Unitah's or when the hoppers are out!)
We got on the river about 8:30. It was cold and clear and there were bugs everywhere. Sweet, this is going to be good. No top action, but plenty of food. I waded in above a good hole and started casting. I started off with a tandem pheasant tail and copper john. Hit the deep holes, the drop offs, the runs, riffles, I threw those things everywhere. I switch, now I am using a hare's ear, scud. Again nothing. I switch to a fly called trout crack, nothing. I meet up with my cousin. Nothing. Around the bend, we run into other fisherman, no luck either. The river has shut down.
Two hours+no fish+15 flies=frustration. We regroup at the starting point and try to salvage something. I suggest we head down and hit a nice deep hole. Fish on. My cousin pulls in a very,very nice 22 inch 3 pound whitefish. Pulled up from the depths on a weighted prince. I continue floating a hare's ear through the hole. After his third fish, I promise, "on more drift through the hole and I'm switching." Fish on. A beautiful 8 inch drown is balleting across the water. To net, no skunk, whew. A few more whites, and we move down. I hit the honey hole next. Three quick whites from a hole, then another. Sweet. They aren't browns, but they are a bend in the rod. Down the river more, nothing. We return to the hole and I pull out 4 more whites from the same hole before it shuts down. I move up to the hole my cousin scored in and he has nothing. So I move just up stream and float my fly. BAM. Deep bend in the rod and 10 minutes later a 22 inch 3-4 lb fat whitefish comes to hand. Nice. I refloat the a little ways up, very deep bend, hard hit. This was not a white. It sulks on the bottom shaking its head. I try to dredge it up but it is stubborn. Finally it relents and comes to the surface. Lo and behold the fat side of a brown shows itself. Red spots the size of my thumbnail. It is beautiful and it is BIG. I estimate it at 22 inches. Why estimate? Because it went down again, shook its head and snapped my line. I sit on the bank sick. My gut hurts. I wish I didn't see it. I reel in and look at the end of the tippet and it is frayed. Big teeth on that fish. I re-tie, wipe the tears from my eyes and cast again. Another hit, another white, not as excited, another cast another hit. A brown this time, not as large, but a brown. He almost comes to hand before throwing my fly. Oh well, another day. We wrap up and call it a day. At the car, I remove my wrap around classes to expose my racoon red face. A nice reminder of a great day.
The day was not a waste, 10 fish (including a very large white) to hand--great day, and a good way to get back on the river. Felt good to have the rod in hand again, and it was nice to be in the water.
katghoti.
[signature]
dle again I guess. I am red faced, sick and excited. Let's dive in. The night before I am at my vice cranking out a fly I hear works wonders. In 15 minutes, I crank out 4 cracklebacks. 2 red, 2 yellow. Good looking flies that are supposed to do well in the summer. Easy to tie, great to fish. I will tie these for our next fly swap (hint, hint). It was great to hit the vice again, and staring at the flies, I picture myself on the river, hoisting 25 inch browns, ahhh, life. (Didn't produce on the river, but this fly would be hot in the Unitah's or when the hoppers are out!)
We got on the river about 8:30. It was cold and clear and there were bugs everywhere. Sweet, this is going to be good. No top action, but plenty of food. I waded in above a good hole and started casting. I started off with a tandem pheasant tail and copper john. Hit the deep holes, the drop offs, the runs, riffles, I threw those things everywhere. I switch, now I am using a hare's ear, scud. Again nothing. I switch to a fly called trout crack, nothing. I meet up with my cousin. Nothing. Around the bend, we run into other fisherman, no luck either. The river has shut down.
Two hours+no fish+15 flies=frustration. We regroup at the starting point and try to salvage something. I suggest we head down and hit a nice deep hole. Fish on. My cousin pulls in a very,very nice 22 inch 3 pound whitefish. Pulled up from the depths on a weighted prince. I continue floating a hare's ear through the hole. After his third fish, I promise, "on more drift through the hole and I'm switching." Fish on. A beautiful 8 inch drown is balleting across the water. To net, no skunk, whew. A few more whites, and we move down. I hit the honey hole next. Three quick whites from a hole, then another. Sweet. They aren't browns, but they are a bend in the rod. Down the river more, nothing. We return to the hole and I pull out 4 more whites from the same hole before it shuts down. I move up to the hole my cousin scored in and he has nothing. So I move just up stream and float my fly. BAM. Deep bend in the rod and 10 minutes later a 22 inch 3-4 lb fat whitefish comes to hand. Nice. I refloat the a little ways up, very deep bend, hard hit. This was not a white. It sulks on the bottom shaking its head. I try to dredge it up but it is stubborn. Finally it relents and comes to the surface. Lo and behold the fat side of a brown shows itself. Red spots the size of my thumbnail. It is beautiful and it is BIG. I estimate it at 22 inches. Why estimate? Because it went down again, shook its head and snapped my line. I sit on the bank sick. My gut hurts. I wish I didn't see it. I reel in and look at the end of the tippet and it is frayed. Big teeth on that fish. I re-tie, wipe the tears from my eyes and cast again. Another hit, another white, not as excited, another cast another hit. A brown this time, not as large, but a brown. He almost comes to hand before throwing my fly. Oh well, another day. We wrap up and call it a day. At the car, I remove my wrap around classes to expose my racoon red face. A nice reminder of a great day.
The day was not a waste, 10 fish (including a very large white) to hand--great day, and a good way to get back on the river. Felt good to have the rod in hand again, and it was nice to be in the water.
katghoti.
[signature]