SteelheadBee
Steelhead
I try not to get too post-happy but sometimes an event requires me to contemplate, journal, and share on what just happened before I start forgetting the details in the ether of my brain fog. My last post (less than a week ago) was about my daughter's personal best trout - I didn't fish much then as I was her personal assistant the whole time. She is recovering from wisdom teeth extraction this week, so I was on my own with a hall pass to the river.
I'm not out there to "slay" trout. We all pretty much catch and release native fish. Most of us have caught more fish than we can ever remember. So "one' trout is no different than "5 trout"(and they all kinda look the same)...I think the most important thing is enjoying the respite from the world issues. With that in mind, I try not to hassle myself or hassle the fish too much. I plod along the morning of the trip and eventually make it to the river. And this is the embarrassing part...
...Arrival to the river is sometime around noon. The conditions are perfect: air temp 70s F, water has dropped into summer shape with a slight tint of colour...not a whole lot of anglers. A pal built a spliced joint hollow bamboo 6wt and wanted some reviews so I rigged it up and tied on my Pig Caddis pattern.
I was raising nice trout left and right and no one was in sight - there were occasional naturals drifting down the river and awaiting trout would smash 'em. They were ready and competing with each other (it reminded me of 2pm at a sushi bar conveyor belt with too many patrons and one sushi 'chef'.... as soon as a dish was placed on the belt, the closest patron would snatch it away).
Now by all means it wasnt a fish every cast, but the refusals were just as fun to behold as actually hooking the fish. That's the embarassing part, I wouldn't even consider myself a fair-to-middling trout angler....half the time I'm fishing Steelhead Bees to res trout...but this kind of trout fishing was giggles fun.
The pal's rod was casting beautifully - a very smooth 6wt, light in hand but with reserve power: if pushed hard, it didn't buckle and it could hit seemingly mid river but it shined if you let it do the work. The spliced joint made it feel like a one piece rod. A lovely casting and fighting tool.
After a few nice trout under my belt, A drift boat floated down and parked less than 30yards above me. 3 anglers got out and I kinda scratched my head at their decision...but I was there to chill, so I decided to go back down a few yards and fish the same spots I had covered. After a little bit, my unexpected neighbours returned to their boat and I greeted hello as fish started rising around their Clackacraft. They pointed out the obvious and I said "yeah, I'm pretty sure they're rising to PMDs". As they watched me casting a Pig Caddis, they asked, "Do you have any PMDs?". I answered, "I think so, but I'm stubborn. I'll stick with this fly." And on cue, I raise., hook, and lose a fish. They laughed and we exchanged farewells as they floated away.
It was around 2pm and I lost my last Pig Caddis somewhere in the grass. Now should be a good time for a beer and lunch. I started to go back up the trail to the cooler when I heard a large watery "blooorp!" near some low overhanging branches. I paused with my attention drawn to the fading circles next to the bank deep inside the shade of the tree branches. Alright, a few casts and then beer....It slurped again as I was searching for a fly.
I was hoping that the fish would eat naturals and then would move below the tree for a more cast-friendly position but my first few short casts yielded nothing. There was only one angle to get my fly in to the deepest part of that structure and it required a sidearm cast that would maybe skip the fly into the target zone. Yeah...I'm not the guy for that...but there was no one else so I had to give it the old college effort.
After maybe the third attempt to skip the fly, it actually worked...the water bulged with something alive near where I thought the fly was located. I instinctively set the hook into something solid. The fish breached and swam its way out of the shallows into the deep. Its back was massive - at that moment, I knew this was no standard "big" fish, this was the big mother of canyon fish. It swam methodically upstream, not in a frantic way, but like it knew what it was doing. The headshakes were big and slow, throbbing the bamboo rod.
After about 50 ft of going upstream into the main current it paused and did the "Sayonara" big fish maneuver: swim across and downstream - sailing off with the river current. I stood there flatfooted watching the spectacle as it breached a few times peeling line off down stream. "Run after it, you dummy" I came to...and took off after my line. With the rod low, I was able to turn the fish and it started thrashing on the surface and swam back upstream. Reeling as fast as I could, I inadvertently pressed the spool release latch on the cheap reel, thankfully I was able to quickly pop the spool back in place.
It came in quick, swimming by the bank next to the grass. I caught up with it near my feet and then it tried to swim between my legs out to deeper water...I was a hot mess. Eventually I gained control of the moment and leadered this massive fish. I dont think the pictures can do it justice...I couldnt fit it in the viewfinder/screen while I was tailing it.
The reliable NoTwist Knot.
After releasing the fish and toasting the river out of the flask, I decided that was enough fishing for the day. I think I fished a total of 2.5 hrs. I went up to the rig and had a beer (or two), lunch, and a nap for a total of 2 hrs and drove home.
I'm not out there to "slay" trout. We all pretty much catch and release native fish. Most of us have caught more fish than we can ever remember. So "one' trout is no different than "5 trout"(and they all kinda look the same)...I think the most important thing is enjoying the respite from the world issues. With that in mind, I try not to hassle myself or hassle the fish too much. I plod along the morning of the trip and eventually make it to the river. And this is the embarrassing part...
...Arrival to the river is sometime around noon. The conditions are perfect: air temp 70s F, water has dropped into summer shape with a slight tint of colour...not a whole lot of anglers. A pal built a spliced joint hollow bamboo 6wt and wanted some reviews so I rigged it up and tied on my Pig Caddis pattern.
I was raising nice trout left and right and no one was in sight - there were occasional naturals drifting down the river and awaiting trout would smash 'em. They were ready and competing with each other (it reminded me of 2pm at a sushi bar conveyor belt with too many patrons and one sushi 'chef'.... as soon as a dish was placed on the belt, the closest patron would snatch it away).
Now by all means it wasnt a fish every cast, but the refusals were just as fun to behold as actually hooking the fish. That's the embarassing part, I wouldn't even consider myself a fair-to-middling trout angler....half the time I'm fishing Steelhead Bees to res trout...but this kind of trout fishing was giggles fun.
The pal's rod was casting beautifully - a very smooth 6wt, light in hand but with reserve power: if pushed hard, it didn't buckle and it could hit seemingly mid river but it shined if you let it do the work. The spliced joint made it feel like a one piece rod. A lovely casting and fighting tool.
After a few nice trout under my belt, A drift boat floated down and parked less than 30yards above me. 3 anglers got out and I kinda scratched my head at their decision...but I was there to chill, so I decided to go back down a few yards and fish the same spots I had covered. After a little bit, my unexpected neighbours returned to their boat and I greeted hello as fish started rising around their Clackacraft. They pointed out the obvious and I said "yeah, I'm pretty sure they're rising to PMDs". As they watched me casting a Pig Caddis, they asked, "Do you have any PMDs?". I answered, "I think so, but I'm stubborn. I'll stick with this fly." And on cue, I raise., hook, and lose a fish. They laughed and we exchanged farewells as they floated away.
It was around 2pm and I lost my last Pig Caddis somewhere in the grass. Now should be a good time for a beer and lunch. I started to go back up the trail to the cooler when I heard a large watery "blooorp!" near some low overhanging branches. I paused with my attention drawn to the fading circles next to the bank deep inside the shade of the tree branches. Alright, a few casts and then beer....It slurped again as I was searching for a fly.
I was hoping that the fish would eat naturals and then would move below the tree for a more cast-friendly position but my first few short casts yielded nothing. There was only one angle to get my fly in to the deepest part of that structure and it required a sidearm cast that would maybe skip the fly into the target zone. Yeah...I'm not the guy for that...but there was no one else so I had to give it the old college effort.
After maybe the third attempt to skip the fly, it actually worked...the water bulged with something alive near where I thought the fly was located. I instinctively set the hook into something solid. The fish breached and swam its way out of the shallows into the deep. Its back was massive - at that moment, I knew this was no standard "big" fish, this was the big mother of canyon fish. It swam methodically upstream, not in a frantic way, but like it knew what it was doing. The headshakes were big and slow, throbbing the bamboo rod.
After about 50 ft of going upstream into the main current it paused and did the "Sayonara" big fish maneuver: swim across and downstream - sailing off with the river current. I stood there flatfooted watching the spectacle as it breached a few times peeling line off down stream. "Run after it, you dummy" I came to...and took off after my line. With the rod low, I was able to turn the fish and it started thrashing on the surface and swam back upstream. Reeling as fast as I could, I inadvertently pressed the spool release latch on the cheap reel, thankfully I was able to quickly pop the spool back in place.
It came in quick, swimming by the bank next to the grass. I caught up with it near my feet and then it tried to swim between my legs out to deeper water...I was a hot mess. Eventually I gained control of the moment and leadered this massive fish. I dont think the pictures can do it justice...I couldnt fit it in the viewfinder/screen while I was tailing it.
The reliable NoTwist Knot.
After releasing the fish and toasting the river out of the flask, I decided that was enough fishing for the day. I think I fished a total of 2.5 hrs. I went up to the rig and had a beer (or two), lunch, and a nap for a total of 2 hrs and drove home.
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