It's not just the trees that are changing...

So is my outlook on my angling capabilities. I was beginning to get a little bored going to the same places and catching the same fish. I guess it has something to do with the steps of fly fishing. Beginners are happy catching one small fish. The next step is many small fish. Then its one big fish among the small fish. Then its just one big fish (or other difficult to catch fish, like a wild stream that has never seen a stocking truck or something).

With Bass I'm ready for one big fish. I mean, its not a bad day when I catch a bunch of average guys in the 10-12" range but really I'm not excited  unless  I come home with a photo of a big boy. I've had two big boys this season for the spot that I'm fishing (big for where it is) and two REALLY big fish in another spot. It has been a fantastic warm water season without question, but calling my cold water season lackluster is an understatement.


If you haven't noticed, my main focus lately has been salmonoids. Now that hunting season has started in my area the rivers are basically empty, both for warm and cold water fishing. I was supposed to go to that famous river I love so much but a strong weather pattern threatened flash floods and dangerous conditions in that area. Though nothing transpired, I am ok with the fact that I played things a little more precautious than necessary because if that river is known for anything, it is known for how fast it can come up. The good news is that it goes down at about the same speed.

I stayed north yesterday, fishing a river that I fished for sunfish when I was 10 and visited early in the season with a friend. The first spot I stopped had more promising looking water in a half a mile stretch of water than I've seen. The water was skinny but had absolutely perfect habitat for big fish and small fish alike.

I waded up stream from an easy entry spot where I saw tons and tons of bait fish clearing the water for mosquito's and midges that were coming off in droves. There was a constant but extremely sparse hatch coming off of what appeared to be a tan colored mayfly. As good as the water looked, I put in entirely too much time on it and it didn't give up its secrets.


For some reason it is difficult for me to walk away from promising looking water that I absolutely know has been under very hard fishing pressure and probably holds some spooky spooky fish if any at all. For some reason I get locked in on where the fish should be instead of where they aren't.

Before I left home I had made plans to move if the fishing wasn't good, but I realized how much time I had spent in a spot where the fishing wasn't good and immediately packed up and headed to my backup plan. Of course, most people's backup plans are to head to places that they know have fish and that they know they can catch them. "Most People" isn't a description that fits me, I guess, because when I moved I found that the place that looked great on the map had basically no access that I could see. I did remember passing a small, hidden sign that said fishing access so I headed back to check it out.

I arrived to one other car there parked in the anglers parking. I got out, readied my rod, donned my backpack, and walked into some THICK brush and a vague path that lead down to the river. I waved to an old man that lived there as I walked past his house, which felt a little strange, but he's the one who sold the rights so I guess he probably didn't mind.

When I got to the bottom I heard voices and snapping twigs so I stopped as I saw a couple of spin anglers throwing spoons from the shore and the shallow water. I stepped out and threw a few casts before they noticed me. They said hello and quietly walked over. They mentioned that they had been fishing that area for a while and that it had changed dramatically from the years past when they fished it. He said they used to be able to stand on an island that was there and catch their limit of nice fish in the 15 to 17" range for supper pretty regularly but that this year with the island getting smaller and more trees in the water that they hadn't been able to catch anything.  There was a deep channel followed by the island which generated some small falls, riffles, and pocket water that looked promising with its undercut banks but apparently didn't produce at all.

The gentleman mentioned that they had a spot where they saw fish all the time but couldn't get to take their spoons and that I should try it with my flies. They offered to have me follow them over to show me where it is and show me where to go, so I took the chance and went. As good as the water looked where I was standing the promise of fish was too strong. We all hiked out to our cars - they had parked in a different spot than I had - and I followed them into town. We parked behind a large building no more than 15 feet from the water where he pointed and said "There, right there, you can see a bunch of 'em swimming around and rolling their backs. I can't get them to take my stuff but maybe if you put something on the surface they'll take it. Good luck!" After a few minutes worth of discussion about how we both love smallmouth bass they left and I walked down to the bank and watched as a pond of rainbows kept ducking in and out of some cloudy water and chasing something around in the water. They never came to the surface but would look as debris floated over and then head back down. Funny little fish.

I threw on a dry fly and had a few looks but no takes. I switched to a nymph and had one of them hit my indicator (I really need to use two-fly rigs for nymphing). No takes on the nymphs so I tried traditional streamers. My confidence was quickly going down as I could see at least 4 or 5 fish and none of them were taking my flies. Ultimately it was a gold bead head black woolly bugger that they liked. My first hookup resulted in a nice, healthy, and beautifully colored fall rainbow. I kept fishing and could feel takes but didn't get a solid hook set. I had at least 3 or 4 more takes, which would either be one dumb fish or that I had hooked every single fish in that tiny little cloudy pool that I could see. As dark fell I decided to pack it in and head home. My mission had been accomplished and I caught one more trout this season. If I catch anymore during 2008 it will just be a bonus. I'll keep trying and that will still be my focus but I'm satisfied now.


OK, so I didn't catch them drifting a dry fly over a pool or swinging a streamer through a riffle but I'll take what I can get. I caught him fishing like I fish for bass. I guess I just did it my way.