Another Underground Grand Slam: Let the Gloating Begin

Given that 98% of the time you spend fly fishing could be technically classified as a failure, then having expectations for the remaining 2% seems pretty far fetched.

So it’s probably accurate to say that going fly fishing with a lot of expectations in place simply means you think you know what’s about to happen before something else does.

After today, I’m all for spontaneity.

Wayne Eng holding my 19″ brown. Big browns are our friends.

Surprise!

Earlier this year I scored an Upper Sacramento River Grand Slam; browns, brookies and rainbows in one evening.

I would have laid odds on it being the last time it would happen, but - based on the photographic evidence below - I was dead wrong.

Sometimes it’s good to be dead wrong.

Dazed and Confused.

Wayne Eng and I headed to a part of the river I swore I’d fished in the past, but now realize I hadn’t. It was long ago and my only excuse is that I was younger and generally more confused back then.

I’m glad I finally made it.

Waiting for me was a 19″ brown trout who ate a #16 dry. And a pair of 12″ Brookies who ate #16 dries. And several colorful rainbows who ate #16 dries.

The Grand Slam. And you get to read all about it for free.

A closeup of our friend the 19″ Brown trout. He’s Brown-a-licious.

I love Brookies. They’re Brook-a-licious.

The rainbows here are beacons. They’re Bow-a-licious.

It’s tempting to wax philosophical about the whole affair as if you and I were sitting in the study wearing smoking jackets and drinking $100-a-bottle liqueur.

Instead, it was just normal fishing, even down to the Keystone Cops moment that erupted when the 19″ brown - which I initially thought was small - took off for Lake Siskiyou.

I needed to scramble over a couple of car-sized rocks to land him, and while I’d like to think I did so with aplomb and grace, an honest appraisal would probably include words like “elephantine” and “clod.”

Fine. You hook a big brown and see how many octaves your voice goes up.

I landed the fish, and Wayne even stopped laughing long enough to help, the sign of a good friend or a fisherman with priorities.

Wayne Eng fishing a dry. It’s Sac-a-licious.

As for the death of expectation, not only was I wrong about fishing that stretch before, but we set out thinking we’d score heavy with the spent October Caddis dry.

Naturally, we did better with a #16 yellow stone and a similar-sized olive parachute.

I was fishing an 8′ 5wt Steffen Brothers glass rod that Rich Margiotta built for me, and it was lovely.

Wayne said it cast like it was on ball bearings - a better description than I would have written - and I’m slowly building a case for the concept that low-modulus materials fight fish better.

I’ll let you know after a couple more years of testing.

The L&T Nancy and I are heading south for Thanksgiving (to a place tragically devoid of trout) so there’s little hope for another fishing report for a week or so.

Of course, that won’t necessarily stop me from posting. Or wishing I was fishing. See you on I-5, Tom Chandler.

Technorati Tags: rainbow trout, brook trout, brown trout