How to Kill a Good Dry Fly Bite (Hint: Invite a Friend)
By Tom Chandler on Dec 3, 2006 in Fishing Report, Upper Sacramento
Nothing kills a good dry fly bite faster than calling a friend and telling him you got ‘em today and to “come along tomorrow - we’ll catch a bunch”.
Of course, nothing makes you forget the above rule faster than a strong dry fly bite.
Thus, the vicious circle.
It’s 1:00. The sun is shining. Hope is strong. But the fish aren’t biting.
The person I called is Ron Fritzke - a fly fisher who apparently doesn’t know the above rule of thumb. If he did, he would have hung up the phone without responding.
Instead, we found ourselves hiking two miles down the railroad tracks. I mean, if the October Caddis bite was good the prior day way upcanyon, then hiking a few miles downcanyon would make it even better. Right? I mean, right??
Wrong.
I’ll spare you the Jack London-esque details about hauling our butts up and down the embankment, and how each spot looked better than the last, right up until the point our flies bobbed happily (and unmolested) right through the “can’t miss” runs.
Oy.
I got an 8″ fish early, and later - as the temperature plummeted and my hands tried to dial 911 of their accord and report me for abuse - I got another 11″ fish.
I’m tempted to report that the second fish put on quite a show - skying twice and running downriver like a bonefish - but let’s face it: eleven inches is eleven inches, and that’s not a number that generates a wealth of drama in the fishing world.
Ron Fritzke. He should have known better.
Still, there’s nothing wrong with a hike down the canyon in winter. It’s spare, it’s beautiful in a minimalist kind of way, and Ron’s a pretty interesting guy to hang with.
My Immediate Future.
The weather forecast for the coming week is detestably good. Bright, sunny - the kind of weather that non-fly fishers think is just marvy. Those of us who chase big fish on tiny, tiny BWO flies think it kinda sucks.
And we’re right, damnit.
As always, more as it happens. See you at the rainmaking machine, Tom Chandler.
[tags]fly fishing, upper sac, upper sacramento[/tags]
Bamboo Addict | Dec 4, 2006 | Reply
Well, I hope by this that you giving up your seat for the trip on the Rogue today doesn’t jenks me becase I invited our own RRiver to go with me. He helped me in the shop yesterday cleaning and storing all the materials.
David
Tom Chandler | Dec 4, 2006 | Reply
C’mon Dave - the fishing up there is always great when I’m not around. At least that’s what you keep telling me…
Bamboo Addict | Dec 4, 2006 | Reply
No big report RRiver pussed out on me (only kidding Dave) stayed and put stuff away in the new shop. Lets try next weekend Tommy.
David
rriver | Dec 5, 2006 | Reply
Sorry Dave. I had just returned from Chicago (RSNA, the biggest Radiology convention in the world) and thought I had my inbox under control, but did not. Life is cruel.
I would have loved to have fished yesterday. I tied some flies last night with the materials I poached from you.
Do free flies float better?
- rriver
Tom Chandler | Dec 5, 2006 | Reply
rriver! Where you been? I was looking for your uploaded story the other week but couldn’t find it. Did you kill it?
rriver | Dec 5, 2006 | Reply
The run up to RSNA has me working with a number of radiology software companies, to the extent that I dream of running away and making $200 athletic shoes in sweat shop some where.
Upon re-reading my prose, I thought it could be better. I want to make a few more passes at it. I’m working on a few others also.
I’m also tying trudes and big caddis flies, hoping the fish in Borneo are stupid.
- rriver
Grizzly Wulff | Dec 5, 2006 | Reply
Tom,
Is that Dr. Fritzke I see wading the river? If so I know his parents very well, and his wife and mine sang together years ago.
Tom Chandler | Dec 5, 2006 | Reply
Yes, that’s Dr. Fritzke, though he’s more walking the bank than wading the river. Wally the wonderdog loves Dr. Fritzke.