My apologies.

For most of the last week I've been playing the role of single dad, and because that wasn't quite challenging enough, I decided to also come down with a bad cold.

Apparently, this parenting thing is like Olympic diving; it really only becomes newsworthy when you add significantly to the degree of difficulty.

It doesn't matter much; small stream fly fishermen in my neck of the woods wait breathlessly for opening day, and then we wait approximately another month for the waters -- which rose just prior to the opener -- to fall back to fishable levels.



 

So after we were finally free to do so, the increasingly gimpy Wonderdog and I took a nice up-and-down hike along one of my favorite little waters just yesterday, and though I brought along a fly rod, it never escaped its tube.



 

The Big Bugs

Last week Little M and I created our own little adventure on Hedge Creek, which flows into the Upper Sacramento just below Mossbrae Falls. I introduced her to the big black stoneflies (she didn't think they were cuddly in the least), and because she's 3.5 years old, didn't really understand when I tried to explain why fly fishermen love the things to death.

Perspective clearly remains the province of the holder, though I can say she got excited when -- in the first decent pool of the creek above the Upper Sac -- we spotted a pretty good sized trout.

I'm never sure how trout move up upcreek through the jumble of rocks, mini-waterfalls and deadfall that define Hedge Creek's confluence with the river (that alien perspective thing again), but they clearly do.

Oddly, it reminded me of another Upper Sac tributary I wanted to fish but haven't.

Maybe this is the year.

The Work Thang

The upcoming week qualifies as a "better get it done/written/submitted" week for Tom The Working Guy, who last week made lame excuses involving kids and colds and didn't exactly peg the productivity meter.

I'm working on two pieces for the Underground (also two for my writing blog), but what you're seeing right now is the fly fishing blog of a very busy writer who isn't fly fishing much at all due to high waters.

Thus, the silence is explained.

On Tuesday I should be surveying Hat Creek with several of the men who originally helped restore it in the 1970s (CalTrout's founders), and after that happens, you can expect at least a picture or two headed your way.

Hat Creek has once again fallen on hard times, yet it's nice to know that (once again), someone's got a plan for putting it back together.

The Snowman Melteth

From our second story family room, I can see both Mt. Eddy and the ridges surrounding it (Mt. Shasta is out the opposite window, but screened by trees).

The snow that is feeding the runoff that is putting my little streams out of reach is disappearing quickly, especially if you squint a little and don't look at the northern exposures when you're driving south on I5.

The weather has been cool and the Upper Sac has fallen below 2000 cfs, though (finally) 70+ degree temperatures are back and the white stuff will disappear more quickly.

Meanwhile, I'm crediting myself with a certain level of cunning by combining small stream reconnaissance trips with dog walking and child care duties.

I'm a crafty one, no doubt. Crafty enough to not make any bold predictions about this year's runoff, though evidence suggests things will get better sooner rather than later.

See you on the little rivers, Tom Chandler