I’ve spent the last couple of very long days typing away as if my food supply depended on it (which it does), but at some point, you gotta rear up on your hind legs and tell the world… you’re going fishing. Wayne and I discussed our options on the phone, and I told him I was beat, so I’d be happy to find a nice quiet stretch of river where one fish would be plenty. Of course, no plan survives first contact with the river, and I was on my feet all evening… catching trout.
Scale samples; a closeup of an Upper Sac rainbow.
Don’t cry for me…
I know; right at this moment, many of my readers are getting all dewey-eyed out of sympathy for me. I appreciate your thoughts, but don’t get all misty on my account. I’m tough, and when the call goes out to catch better than two dozen fish on a dry fly in a single evening, I’m there to answer it. I’m the John Wayne of the fly fishing world.
Wayne, Dave Edmondson and I converged on a stretch of river that has it all; faster water (loaded with fish), smooth water (loaded with good fish), and a difficult tailout (loaded with monster fish). This is not a stretch that typically fishes easy, but if you hit it right, it can fish well, and with some real bruisers thrown in. I was amazed at how the evening went; I showed up before Wayne & Dave, and tangled with a Cool Eddy clone who… well, acted like a Cool Eddy (helpful hint: don’t step into the river 10′ away from me and then ask “which fly do you use to catch fish here?”).
Ahh, the Beetle Bug – this one chewed by many, many trout. The Beetle is powerful. It is great. It is our friend…
If he’d asked nicely, I would have told him the Beetle Bug is one way to go when you don’t know what the hell else to do. After Wayne arrived, I started fishing the faster water section with a Beetle Bug, and with little fanfare, hooked a good two dozen fish in an hourlong Dry Fly Festival. Every bit of water I could cover yielded a couple of strikes, and after many nice fish and three in the 13″ range, I figured I was done for the evening.
It ain’t over ’til it’s… really, really dark.
I yielded the fast water to Wayne and wandered downriver to talk to Dave. He was working some tough fish on the far bank and got grabs from both of them, but wanting more, he headed upriver. That left me standing in the water, and after a few minutes a couple fish started working, so OK, I wasn’t done for the evening.
Instead, I proceeded to catch a bunch more fish on a #16 PMD parachute, including several of the large fin crowd who always come out to play when it gets darker. The final tally included a pair of 14″-15″ Brown trout (a rarity on the Upper Sac) and one “fish-zilla” that I never saw, but judging how he felt, I’m kinda glad I never got near him. He did his best “midnight train do Dunsmuir” imitation by heading irresistibly downriver before wrapping me up and breaking me off. Breathtaking stuff. A couple other notable fish at my #16 PMD parachute, including a 15″ specimen right at dark.
Trouty Smorgasboard
It was a smorgasboard of bugs last night: lots of midges, a few caddis, a smattering of Golden Stones, a few PMDs, and even some spinners at nightfall. I did OK just using the Beetle Bug and PMD parachute, but Wayne wandered to the tailout (where the deer and the big fish roam) and caught two sharks (18″-19″) on a rusty spinner, putting a smile on his face and a slight set in his cane rod.
Topping off the evening was Edmondson’s last-ditch fish, a nice 15″ rainbow that ate his dry three feet from his road tip. In a brilliant example of an anticipatory hook set, Edmondson lifted on him and had him in the net in seconds. It’s a great evening when you get out on the river and the weather’s perfect, and it’s a great evening when you catch a few fish, and it’s a great evening when you catch a lot of fish and a few big ones, but it’s a perfect evening when you and three friends accomplish all of the above.
The Raine Road Trip; it’s Tourist Time…
As near as I can tell, they fished the Firehole, but I have no idea what happened. If the unbelievably current fishing report at the Yellowstone Fly Fishing blog is to be believed, they probably caught some fish. Still, instead of vital fishing or slaw dog information, I’m getting the following:
Yup. That’s a bison muffin on the right. Also a picture of Old Faithful, the geyser that erupts on a regular schedule, producing the ultimate tourist attraction. It’s back to work for me. And I’ll see you on the river (you can bet on it), Tom Chandler
So now – with flows continuing to fall and the fish apparently eating – you gotta ask yourself: “What am I doing next weekend?†Or even today. After all, it’s Fly Fish Friday at the Trout Underground.
The Beetle Bug claimed one bite, but nothing else, and I got desperate enough to hang a weighted Hare’s Ear 18†under the dry, which is how I got my next four hookups (and a few misses, if the dry is to be believed).
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