So Much Fall. So Little Time.

If it didn’t end up in the grips of a cold, get-out-the-snow-shovel winter, fall would be my favorite time of the year. The fall colors induce vacant stares, the fishing can be spectacular, the flows are reliable (unlike spring), and the falling temperatures give the air a cool, hard-edged feel.

Of course, fall has its darker side. The river’s often crowded, the weather can be touchy, and there’s simply too much to fish, and too little time to fish it all.

There’s so much happening from a fly fishing perspective that no human - even one with a trust fund and a seven-day-a-week fishing habit - could possibly cover it all.

Start at the Top.

The backcountry isn’t exactly closed yet, but all those alpine lakes (and a few small streams) are getting awfully cold at night.

A week ago a storm rolled through and left behind a light dusting of snow, and while nothing’s impassable, it does remind you that time is spinning out of control if you’re a high country fanatic.

It’s worse because you know what’s coming (a little like anticipating surgery - you simultaneously don’t want it to happen while wishing it was happening right now). Winter closes the higher roads, freezes over the backcountry lakes and keeps them that way until late spring.

Down Low

Meanwhile, the Upper Sacramento is fishing well, but the really steady BWO hatches are typically a month away (as are most of the cloudy, drippy BWO days), leaving you to chase the bad weather as well as the October Caddis and PED hatches.

The October Caddis is a big bug and you’d think the trout would be climbing all over the thing, but success on this fly comes sporadically and never quite how you think it would.

Meanwhile, the McCloud is forced to contend with the crowds of fall fly fishers jamming its banks, and the Lower Sacramento is experienceing the daily traffic jams of drift boats.

Steely Resolve

Steelhead are happening just to the north, and given the price of gas, I can say that I’m happy I’m largely a troutmeister; the local steelheaders are burning up a lot of gas running to places I can’t mention for fear of finding a burning spey rod on my front lawn.

Still, you have at least pay homage to steelheading, and admire those who catch big, big steelies and then somehow keep their mouths shut about it.

The Big List

To list everything that could happen here in the fall would bring down my Web server. What’s clear is this: if you’re looking for the big days, you’re doing a lot of driving based largely on rumors and raw hope.

Suffice it to say each fishing outing isn’t a carefree jaunt as much as an agonizing decision where you weigh a handful of contradictory “facts” and rumors, all of which is run through the fevered calculator that is the mind of a fly fisher.

The results, of course, are wholly random - you’re sometimes where you should be, but just as often you’re not, a condition that can lead to the cruelest of all emotions, regret.

Even a quick afternoon trip to the river becomes a mental wrestling match; the 6wt to boss around the big October Caddis dries, or a 4wt to throw the #22 BWOs or #20 PED spinners?

Downriver for the spotty-but-could-be-cosmic BWO or PED hatch? The McCrowd? Pocket water? Run north to the Rogue?

My head is spinning. Maybe I’ll just stay home.

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