Upper Sacramento

The Joys Of BWOs (When The BWOs Show)

November 4, 2011, by Tom Chandler 7 comments

I’d been sitting on a cold rock on the bank of a cold river for the last 1.5 hours, and when that first blue winged olive tumbled by on the surface currents, I didn’t feel as stupid as I had only a minute before.

Funny what a size 22 insect can do for a fly fisherman.

Thanks. I needed that.

The Upper Sacramento’s hatches are maddening; one day they’re gratifying. The next — despite perfect conditions — they’re nonexistent.

And yesterday’s conditions were were damned near perfect.

So I was prepared to get wet for no good reason at all.

Happily, at 1:15, enough BWOs showed to pull a few trout to the surface, a handful of which I tricked into eating my Quigley Cripple.

It’s a simple enough sentence, but fly fishermen read it and their pulse quickens.

Especially when the trout are, well… stunning:

In just the right light, they're stunning (better looking than your angry fingers)

Fall in the Upper Sacramento River canyon is easy on the eyes; half the trees are evergreens, yet the other half are turning red and yellow and orange, and those isolated riots of color stand out more than if they consumed the entire hillside.

The water is low and so clear it’s as if the river bottom is encased in Lucite.

It’s also a time when your hands sting every time you (foolishly) dip them in the water, and when the average size fish throw the hook before you can land them, you’re secretly relieved. Later, when you look at the photos involving fingers, they’ll be an almost angry red.

Our digits apparently are less enamored of fall than we are.

The Details

By the numbers? I had seven grabs, three of which turned into those “life the rod and feel them for a millisecond before the hook pops out” endeavors.

That leaves us with four hookups and three landed fish, all of which were in the 11″-12″ range.

All that happened on a #22 Quigley Cripple (the scaled-down Ed Engle version), the trout having already ignored the #20 Adams Parachute I’d started with.

I was fishing the Raine 8’3″ 5wt hollowbuilt I mentioned here, and as you’d guess, I kept pretty close tabs on its performance — right up until the first good drift over a trout was ignored and I switched to vengeful angler mode.

The verdict? It’s looking good, Undergrounders.

But more testing is needed. Lots more.

See you on the river, Tom Chandler.

An Exercise In Alien Perspective, BWO-Weather Style…

November 2, 2011, by Tom Chandler 6 comments

Some look at this and see bad weather ahead. The Underground’s Barbarian Hordes of fly fishermen look at it and see… BWO weather.

That's not bad weather. That's BWOs and rising trout...

It’s even possible I’ll hit this one a couple times on the Upper Sacramento (assuming the rain stays reasonable and the river doesn’t blow).

The L&T long ago gave up trying to understand the glee I feel when bad weather approaches in the fall.

It’s little wonder that fly fishermen — who go to great lengths to catch fish and then return them; drive right past big fish in pursuit of smaller remote fish; and buy thousands of dollars of fly tying gear to save a buck on a fly — are largely misunderstood among the general populace (if anyone bothers to try) .

See you on the river, Tom Chandler.

River Exchange Hosts “Intro to Fly Fishing Clinic” Sunday, August 21

August 17, 2011, by Tom Chandler No comments yet

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE:
Contact: Robin Singler
July 29, 2011
River Exchange
(530) 235-2012
robin@riverexchange.org

â€œIntroduction To Fly Fishingâ€ Clinic Sunday, August 21st, 2011

Local Guide Wayne Eng will lead instruction in river history, reading the water and more in Dunsmuir’s beautiful City Park
Hosted by the River Exchange’s Sustainable Watershed Series

DUNSMUIR, CA– On Sunday, August 21st, the River Exchange is hosting their â€œIntroduction to Fly Fishingâ€ Clinic on the grounds of beautiful Dunsmuir City Park, from 10am to 2pm. The clinic is a great way to be introduced to the river for anyone interested in learning about fly fishing.

With the help of other fly fishing volunteers, Wayne Eng, local fly fishing guide and river lover, will lead the clinic with lecture and demo instruction on various aspects of fly fishing in the Upper Sacramento River. Topics covered will include river history, casting techniques, reading the river and more.

Wayne Eng has taken hundreds of people on the water to hone their skills, from beginners to experts. â€œThe “Zen” of fly fishing is that you place yourself completely into the moment, using all of your senses and skills to be effective,â€ says Wayne. â€œNo matter what skill level you are, being able to immerse yourself in the art of fly fishing in such a beautiful setting is magical and inspiring.â€

Cost of admission is $35 per person, which is used to fund the River Exchange’s watershed education programs. Space for this clinic is limited; call the River Exchange at (530) 235-2012 or email them at mail@riverexchange.org to make your reservation.

The River Exchange is a non-profit 501(c)(3) organization dedicated to promoting healthy watersheds through community involvement in stewardship, restoration and education. For more information about the River Exchange, visit www.riverexchange.org.

The Weather, Work Hotting Up at the Underground…

June 20, 2011, by Tom Chandler 3 comments

The heat’s turning on up here this week, and not just in the work sense.

We’ve been treated to surprisingly stable flows on the Upper Sacramento and (especially) the McCloud, and local guide Craig Nielsen suggests the dry fly fishing on the McCloud’s been stellar.

That might be coming to an end:

Warming up....

As always, see you on the river, Tom Chandler.

Want to Fly Fish the Upper Sacramento and McCloud Rivers? It’s Better Now Than It Will Be Later…

May 18, 2011, by Tom Chandler No comments yet

The Upper Sacramento — which should be damned well unfishable right now — has fallen below 1800 cfs, and the McCloud at Ah-Di-Nah is below 500 cfs.

Neither is exactly ideal for wading, but both are wholly fishable flows (if you don’t mind walking a bit).

They’ll probably remain that way through the weekend, and if you’re thinking of heading north for a little cannonball-split-shot combat fly fishing, that’s the good news — especially if you stumble onto one of the few spots with trout rising to March Browns.

The bad news?

With our springtime weather apparently still on a train north from Cancun (the weather forecast suggests a 70+ degree day isn’t even on the horizon), you may not see those Ideal-For-Fly-Fishing-Normally-Late-Spring Flows until the middle of July (if then).

See, the real runoff event hasn’t yet begun, and in fact, we’ve added to the snowpack the last couple days.

I could write about the horrific effects that three days of mid-May snow have on a writer’s delicate psyche (and advocate heavily for some kind of federal creative disaster relief), but in a rare display of courage, I’m going to stop sniffling and hope the Underground’s California readers are taking advantage of this rare pre-runoff bonanza.

We’ll pay for it later in the form of some serious runoff, and when it happens, I sincerely doubt that the word “courageous” will be used to describe those posts.

See you hiding the tears on the river, Tom Chandler.

UPDATE: You can find the snowpack/waterpack figures here, which will tell you the high snowpack and cold spring mean the Northern Sierras are at… 253% of normal for this time of the year.

Welcome, New Trout Season (and, Good-Bye, Joe)

May 1, 2011, by Tom Chandler 4 comments

The L&T is on a biz trip and I’m Mr. Mom all this week, which means this blog post gets written during Little M’s short afternoon nap.

After which I bundle her into the car and we get the hell out of the house, because:

1) The weather’s nice (much nicer than yesterday), and

2) If we stay, she’ll drive me crazy

So much for the sensitive father.

The Opener

Yesterday’s general trout season opener saw crowds on the McCloud, a fair number of bodies on the Upper Sacramento, and a generous turnout at Joe Kimsey’s remembrance at Dunsmuir City Park.

(Which is a lot to cover during a short nap.)

A "Rough Skinned Newt"

Here’s the fly fishing story: Wayne suggested a place where he thought we could catch some trout despite the high water, and I knew exactly where he was talking about.

We’d both fished it independently over the years, both liked it, and this time, it produced (as it has in the past).

No real shortage of trout or rafts

With Joe Kimsey’s remembrance at 3:00 — and us the victim of a Meski-delayed start — we basically fished 150 feet of river — and had six grabs between us.

I even got one to eat a dry, but speed set him. Later, I nymphed one up, but he was downstream, and neatly wrapped me on a branch (I saw him just before he broke me off, which I assume was on purpose).

Just in case anyone forgot what I look like just before losing a trout...

Wayne got four grabs, landed one, and our time was up.

My take?

It’s pretty much as advertised; the river is high but wholly fishable… in places.

And in those places, the fish could be pretty good.

Still, with temperatures finally set to hit 70 degrees this week, we’re seeing the Upper Sacramento in what is probably the best shape it’ll be until most of the way through June.

In other words, enjoy it.

Joe Kimsey

At the Dunsmuir City Park gathering for Joe Kimsey, one person noted that all the elements of a successful Joe Kimsey day were present: cookies, cake, a trout river, and women…

Those that knew Joe will miss him. Those that didn’t might wonder what all the fuss is about, but how do you explain a true character?

Instead, here are a few photographs:

A few photos of Joe -- right in front of his Upper Sac (he let the rest of us fish it)

I could only fit a portion of the attendees into this photograph

See you on the river,
Tom Chandler

A Brief Encounter With A River (or, I Bail On Work, Ski Into The River)

March 31, 2011, by Tom Chandler 6 comments

Over the last 1.5 weeks, eight feet of snow fell on the town of Mt. Shasta, and not to put too fine a point on it, my back felt every inch of it.

That’s why it wasn’t that hard to convince the dutiful part of my brain (the Hippoworkus) to abandon the computer for two hours and ski into the Upper Sacramento for a quick hit of fly fishing.

The Wonderdog and Glacier Glove pack

It was hard not to get excited, though even someone with the self-delusional capabilities of a blogger would know this wasn’t a heavy-duty fishing trip.

More a lunchtime ski trip with the chance for a little fly fishing sandwiched between the sweaty portions.

Our record snowfall was disappearing fast under the impetus of 60+ degree days (purrrrrrr) and nighttime temps that stayed above freezing, and the river definitely reflected it.

The snow was soft enough that when I jumped off the snow berm, figuring I’d start the downhill stretch with some flashy downhilll speed, the skis simply stuck four inches into the snow, and I face planted.

Auspicious beginnings.

I was even reduced to double-poling my way downhill — a reality which suggested a painful slog uphill on the way home (I wasn’t disappointed).

Still, the Wonderdog was as happy as I’d seen him in weeks, and while he probably thinks his job is to sniff everything in sight, it’s clear his real job description includes “Reality Check for Owner.”

Mission accomplished.

The Fishing

I fished for only a half hour (you can take the boy out of the office, but you can’t take the office with you into the outdoors, and my big site project launches this weekend), and sad to say, no trout were harmed in the making of this fishing report.

At one point, I was fishing a micro mayfly nymph and the tiny bobbicator stopped for just a second, but because I’m like most dry fly fishermen (I fucking know better, thank you), I didn’t set the hook.

When it happened again the second time through, I did lift the rod, and for a few seconds, I experienced the undeniable reality of a trout on the end of my line.

Later, I’d tromped out of the water and was taking off my wading boots when a handful of BWOs went by, which stopped me cold.

It was sunny and rising fish were unlikely but I’m a sucker for a hatch, and apparently the BWOs know it because another cluster came off, and that was it.

I’m pretty sure they were yanking my chain (apparently BWOs have a Hippoyankus).

It’s looking like a busy weekend and while I’ve got plenty on the front burner for next week, there’s the near certainty of some kind of outdoor adventure.

See you there, Tom Chandler.

Record Snowpack Means… Record Whining From Fly Fishermen (or, Four Ways to Beat Early Season Runoff)

March 30, 2011, by Tom Chandler 5 comments

We can safely say California’s drought is over.

(Hell, just by glancing out my office window, we can safely say the downstairs door won’t be accessible for another week).

We can also safely say the fly fishing season — at least on our non-tailwaters – will be starting later than usual.

The lord giveth, and he taketh away.

Winter started with a lot of rain and snow, but that tapered off for upwards of six weeks, at the end of which our snowpack actually dipped below 100% of normal.

Those lackluster numbers (the cause of much apprehension among the state’s water users) are now history, and I’m seeing reports of a snowpack in the “160% of normal” range around the state.

Tahoe ski resorts are reporting record winters (“biggest in 25 years”), and gleefully extending their seasons — perhaps as late as the Fourth of July.

Their Gain; Our Loss?

All that water is good for most of the state — and high-water events are needed to rejuvenate bug and fish habitat — though most fly fishermen share humanity’s overall self-centeredness, so we’re not fans of the massive, long-lasting runoff that often accompanies record snowpack.

In a typical year, fly fishing the season opener in Northern California often meant watching the flows cruelly ramping up the week prior to the opener (end of April). I always suspected the late April opening date was evidence of a cruel sense of humor at Fish & Game, though the availability of year-round waters suggests at least a hint of humanity.

Typically we’re fishing the Upper Sac at something approaching worthwhile flows somewhere in late May to early June.

High snowpack changes all that, and in fact, one year (prior to my moving here), flows remained unpleasantly high through the Fourth of July (I believed the “optimistic” reports of a fly shop, and largely wasted the weekend).

We could easily see that again.

It gets worse – at least if you’re a small stream junkie.

Sorta.

Small streams overflow quickly and remain that way during the snowmelt, and worse, many remain unreachable long after the season “officially” opens (snow drifts are poor at recognizing the state’s legal authority).

Then again, some alpine streams clear up and become fishable before the rivers farther down the watershed, though in a wet year, a trip to an alpine stream could find you in the dentist-drill-esque company of a bazillion mosquitoes (see above for the “taketh & giveth” thing).

Saving The Early Season

First, you might give up on the idea of an early season trial for that new 1-weight rod. Yet the Underground — ever the California’s fly fishermen’s friend – will bravely suggest Four Ways to Beat The California Snowpocalypse (see, eastern media aren’t the only ones capable of sensationalizing snow):

Fish tailwaters, where flows will be high but controlled
Fish lakes, which — outside of poor water clarity — don’t much care about runoff (a good, if often overlooked, choice)
Learn to love soft-ball sized split shot
Leave the state and run (like some kind of pathetic sissy) to a less-rampant snowpack

Frankly, I’ll probably opt for #1 and #4 – gravitating to #2 as soon as I can. (Yes, I may be returning to Tennessee this year after a several-year absence.)

For now, I’ve got websites to launch.

See you under water, Tom Chandler.

We Discover What’s Wrong With Half The Country (and, The River Kinda Blows…)

December 6, 2010, by Tom Chandler 8 comments

It’s Monday morning (better check yourself for a pulse), and while my cold’s hanging on, the back’s better, Little M’s happier, and a very fast new desktop computer is on its way.

Writers, consultants and web types really don’t need what you’d call high-powered hardware (at least not these days – at least not when they run Linux, which is a damned fast OS to begin with).

But like most deviants (I did say “writers”), my need for speed is a very real – if wholly emotional – thing. That true even though writers primarily harness those galactic levels of computing power – in the long, (frequent) spaces between words – to do the following:

Make the cursor blink.

It’s a little like putting on $500 breathable waders and then never getting out of the drift boat, or buying a nano-death-tech, extraterrestrial-level $700 fly rod to ‘challenge’ 5″ brook trout on a tiny stream.

What’s worse, to my mostly male readership (and to me), the above makes perfect sense.

Many of you are probably shaking your heads right now and re-reading the previous sentences for a clue to what doesn’t make sense.

Which leads us to our Thought For The Day (At Least This Early in the Day):

Half the planet’s crazy.

The River? Forget It

It drizzled yesterday and rained all night, and with the watershed’s low-lying snow being converted from yard decoration to river water in a hurry, the predictable’s happening:

Upper Sacramento River Flows (click for latest update)

(Don’t forget – links to local river flows, weather and road conditions here on the Underground.)

Planning to go fishing?

Better plan to go elsewhere. Me? I’m trying to finish a piece for the Blood Knot e-zine, offer some help to folks using point-and-shoot cameras, and yes – I’ll soon have a new computer to rig.

I hope it’s really fast.

See you anywhere but the river, Tom Chandler.