The battle…
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A few days ago I went to a favorite stretch of river (any guesses what one?). I decided to just fish dry flies, even though the best success on this stretch is generally nymphs. In my heart I guess I’m a bit of a dry fly purist, and I needed to get back to my roots.
I walked up a section that is fairly slow and glassy. The river is quite low, and the river clear. The aspens and trees are radiant in blazing colors, and I enjoyed the experience of being in the mountains.
This slow section is usually fairly tough to fish because it is so low and clear. However, I spotted a large rising fish behind a rock on the far side of the bank. There were several conflicting currents between myself and the fish, so I slowly inched closer and closer so that I could make a cast. There was a hole in the rock, and the fish was rising to small caddis coming through that opening…making a very difficult cast. I slowly started to work the fish, trying to get the fly into the lane. The fish kept rising, and every once in a while I was able to hit the lane. Wrong fly. I switched to another, and kept casting. Wrong fly again. After working the one fish for about an hour, taking my time to enjoy the battle, I finally put a #18 parachute adams on, and kept working on getting that 6x tippet to float in the seam. Finally, I dropped it in…the fish turned, and smashed the fly. It was a beautiful, bright 16 inch rainbow.
I released the fish, and he swam back to his spot, and resumed his feeding.
I stood watching him for some time, then broke down the rod and went back to the car. A fine time on the stream. The dry fly part of my soul refreshed.
Nice post, PR. Know what you mean when it comes to dries — particularly this time of year. This morning on the South Platte I defied all known wisdom of that river by fishing a big, nasty rubber-legged stimulator, instead of the standard @22 copper john, or whatever. Sometimes I get some funny looks when I take this approach … and sometimes, like this morning, I get rewarded, big time.
I’d prefer catching two fish on dries to six while chunking lead. Just my preference. I don’t pretend to be a purist about it. Later in the day I was throwing streamers.
What I like best is making the fish conform to my wishes, instead of me conforming to theirs. Fish on.
WBM
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