Late TR: March 5, 2005 w/link to pix

I must have been getting ornery. About the middle of the week, SWMBO
actually suggested that I go fishing on Saturday. I didn't have to be
told twice.

Saturday dawned clear and cold. A beautiful late winter morning. I did a
few things around the house so as not to appear too eager then about ten
I gathered up my gear, piled in the car and headed out.

I expected to have my favorite stream to myself this early in the year
and was surprised to find vehicles at my first two starting spots. This
is not a stream that can handle a lot of fishermen. The fish spook
easily and stay down for a long time once spooked. I continued on up the
stream and finely found an unoccupied turnout. I rigged up and headed
for the stream, about a hundred and fifty yard tromp through the sagebrush.

I started at the head of a large beaver pond. I immediately noticed how
much more water there was than in the past couple of years. We have had
a good, drought busting winter and the creek was already showing the
affects. There was a fish rising not far from shore in the shallow water
of the mud flat on the inside of a bend in the creek. Not a usual place
to see a fish feeding. I tied on a Renegade and went to work. The
casting was a bit rusty but not too bad. I floated the fly over the now
silent feeder several times to no avail. Impatient, I moved upstream,
only to see the fish I had been casting to turn and move lazily
downstream. Dang, that was a nice fish.

It was a beautiful day. Cold, but sunny. I was surprised how many birds
were out and about this early in the year. I worked my way upstream,
blind fishing pockets and pools. I soon saw another fish rising, again
in the shallow water of mud flat. Odd. I carefully crept into casting
position and could clearly see a eight or nine inch brown feeding in the
clear water. “Careful,” I said to myself. I false cast out what I
thought was the right amount of line then let it go. I couldn't have put
that fly more squarely on top of that fish if had reached out and put it
there. Idiot! Surprisingly, the fish did not spook. The next cast was
good distance but a foot too far to the right. I let it float down so as
not to scare the fish. Suddenly it became clear that the fish had
spotted my fly and was interested. “Wait for it,” I inwardly screamed at
myself, but to no avail. From a good two feet away, the fish made a dash
for the fly. Sure enough, in my eagerness I ripped that fly right out of
his mouth. A Steller's Jay cackled raucously from a nearby bush,
seemingly mocking my futility as a fisherman.

I fished this section of the stream for another hour or so without so
much as a sniff at my fly and then drove upstream to a section that
always produces, so I hoped. I casually worked my way upstream, mostly
taking in the lovely day. When I reached the “honey hole” I got serious.
I crept up to the side of the hole, watched and soon spotted a couple of
fish feeding. I floated my Renegade over the lower one a few times to no
avail. I traded my Renegade for a #18 Parachute Adams and went back to
work. Again the lower fish ignored the fly so I went after the upper
fish. I floated through the feeding upstream fish and let it continue on
through where the lower fish lay.

The take was subtle. This time I was patient with the set. My rod tip
bent as the fish headed for the far depths of the pool, even pulling
some line off my reel. I applied pressure and he stopped and turned
downstream and then oddly just stopped. I quickly brought him to hand
with no effort, a pretty 14" brown. The fish just lay there like he was
dead while I took a couple of vanity pictures but the moment I put him
in the water he was off like a shot and headed downstream.

I fished for a couple more hours with no more fish but great
satisfaction and went home a happy man.


A couple of observations on the day:

I witnessed several fish holding and feeding shallow (6" to 9"), barren
mud flats where the water was moving very slowly--places you would never
see them during the spring and summer. My guess is that they were
holding there because the water was warmer there. The water in the main
part of the stream was cold, 42 degrees. I suspect that the sun was
warming the dark mud which in turn warmed the water flowing over it a
little. I could think of no other reason why they were there.

I have real mixed feelings about beaver. I admire their engineering,
their work and their strength. I love to watch them work. I hate it when
they surface behind me, spot me, get alarmed, whack their tail on the
water and scare the living daylights out of me. I also hate the way the
ponds that their dams create wipe out beautiful riffles and runs that
are so run to fly fish. The stretch of creek where my "honey hole" had
five new dams on it that were not there last spring when I last fished
it. Seems like they are going to dam the whole creek.

Anyway, here is the link to a few pictures I took that day.

http://www.sfcn.org/rmd/Fish030505.html


Thanks for the ear,

Russell