Posts tagged: fly fishing the upper sacramento river

The Fly Fishing Report That Includes: Food, Wally the Wonderdog, a Trout, and Extremely Dramatic Skiing Drama

January 29, 2010, by Tom Chandler 13 comments

First, a bug photograph:

A winter stonefly on the Upper Sacramento. Hmm. Wonder what the trout were eating?

Second, I really needed that.

Not the bug, or the photograph. I mean the ski trip into the Upper Sacramento River, where I tried some new gear, fished a bit, caught a trout, and then turned around and slogged skied back up the hill.

The trip (in order).

Ingress

Skiing into the river here shouldn’t be hard – at least if you could ski acceptably.

It’s downhill, and for the talented gravity slaves among my readers, that means smooth sailing.

Alas, when you’re accompanied by a big, clumsy dog possessed of both a need to be in front (the hunting dog instinct) and the very real tendency to get distracted by tree bits in the snow – resulting in a sudden stop right where my skis are pointed – “smooth” doesn’t quite describe the situation.

In fact – if you’re the skier – you tend to describe the situation with a lot of four-letter words, most of which you wouldn’t repeat in front of your pre-verbal child.

It doesn’t help that the “skier” in question isn’t exactly talented, and to say more would be to flog this horse long after it stopped moving.

And besides, all that’s behind me. Having fly fished and returned home to the bosom of my living family, I’m happy now. See?

The Trout Underground looking like a happy fly fisherman

That's me being happy (despite the snow jammed down my pants)

The Fishing Part

I won’t delve into the fly fishing overmuch. It was a lunchtime trip – one that actually included a riverside lunch – so my fishing time was limited to that stuff that didn’t include the following:

Skiing in
Getting skis off, removing jacket, removing snow jammed in pants (courtesy multiple Wonderdog-related crashes)
Getting into waders
Assembling fly fishing
Starting stove for lunch
Eating lunch
Sitting and grooving on intense, snowy, people-free beauty
Catching a 13″ trout
Taking photos
Re-packing gear
Slogging Skiing up the long, steep hill

I did fish long enough to catch a single trout on a nymph – a brilliant fly fishing decision made in part after I observed the following:

Ahh, Stonefly on a Stick - a new snack sensation.

Because I’m the very essence of the Scientific Fly Fisherman, I saw the bugs and immediately made a decision: I’d use a small, skinny black nymph.

(I can almost hear the Undergrounders shaking their heads in wonderment.)

Sadly, the Underground’s waterproof Pentax camera was stuck at home – the victim of a re-waterproofing attempt via some Marine Epoxy – so I was forced to bring the big DSLR, which doesn’t venture out onto the water with me.

Thus – while you no doubt expected one – there is no in-water trout portrait today.

Sorry.

You’ll have to simply trust me when I say the trout was sleek and pure and beautiful and strawberry-striped and leave it at that (you can close your eyes and imagine it if you’d like).

That was it for the fishing portion of the trip: one bite, one hook set, one bowed rod, and one fish.

And trust me, it was plenty. I was a happy man (see picture above).

And why not?

The only thing prettier than a trout stream in spring might be a trout stream in winter. Astonishingly – despite the yards-high piles of snow up in town – the Upper Sacramento wasn’t blanketed with snow, and in fact, a couple bare spots near the river forced me to take the skis off and walk around them.

Clearly, the Snowy Line of Doom for our recent “storm of a lifetime” ran just above the Upper Sacramento River.

The Gear Stuff

Because I often wake up at night wondering if I’m doing enough for my readers, I decided it was time to test-fire a 9′ 4wt rod and reel provided by the Redding Fly Shop – their own “Fresh H2O” private label brand.

How did I end up with this? At one point, I contacted St. Croix rods in the interest of seeing how their “new” Imperial fly rods compared to the much loved, smooth-tapered classic Imperial series.

It seemed like a natural story, and frankly it would have been grand – both from a “is this a new classic?” standpoint and a “where are the bargain-priced rods today” perspective.

Sadly, St. Croix didn’t bother to respond to the request, treating me the same way that cheerleader in high school did, and while I’m kinda misting up right now just thinking about it, I want you all to know I’m moving past the whole thing.

Just talk amongst yourselves for a minute.

…

OK. I’m back. And happy, dammit.

So when I had a conversation with the Fly Shop’s Mike Michalak about the McCloud relicensing – and he offered up one of his value-priced Fresh H2O combos for testing, I said what the hell?

The Redding Fly Shop's Fresh H2O combo. Testing begins...

He did just before I left for Ethiopia, and one problem with testing gear is that you actually have to use this stuff (at least here, though I have questions about some of the other reviews I read).

That I’m just getting around to it now says a lot about my unwillingness to part with the gear I already use and like, but that, my friendly Undergrounders, is the hell of it.

Because I only nymphed with the rod and didn’t actually air it out, I’m not going to craft a detailed report. Suffice it to say the rod’s plenty powerful for all-around fishing (has the high-modulus 4wt become the “standard” trout rod?), and the reel – while a bit on the heavy side – was impressively smooth.

In other words, this is the kind of combo that has high-end manufacturers asking questions about their onshore production lines – and the kind of bargain-priced (under $300) setup that should have been available during fly fishing’s boom years.

In truth, I’m not a huge fan of many of today’s graphite fly rods, but I do try to set that aside, at least so far as the Undergrounders are concerned.

More to come on this setup; I plan to let Wayne Eng loose with it for his thoughts.

In Other Gear Tests

The availability of really warm, really light, really weather-ready winter gear has largely revolutionized cold weather pursuits like skiing, mountaineering, ice climbing, backpacking, etc.

Yet the bleedover into fly fishing has been slow, though after last year’s Patagonia soft shell tests, I’m back testing some new cold weather gear – a pair of ultra-warm, ultra-light insulated jackets from Patagonia (disclosure: I paid for the things).

And I’ve come to some interesting conclusions, which I plan to publish next week.

Until then, let me tease you with a picture of a jacket so warm, comfy, silky and tiny that it was immediately stolen from my grasp by the gear-houndish L&T.

Gotcha! It's a jacket in a tiny packet - the Patagonia Nano Puff. So far, Tommy likes.

Divorce loomed until the L&T ordered a Patagonia Nano Puff jacket for herself (I had to dangle a new Nano in a far more interesting color, natch), and now that the Nano’s safely back in my grasp, I’ve proceeded with testing.

And yes, the word is good.

In truth, ultra-light backpacking and cold-weather gear isn’t often translated to the fly fishing world (or if it is, it goes slowly). Wading jackets are still (in many cases) bulletproof, but also heavy and bulky. Why is that?

Clearly, there’s more to come on the gear front.

For now, I’ll leave the Wonderdog partisans with this photograph of the ski-career-ending hound doing something mindless. Eating snow:

Wally the Wonderdog... eating snow?

See you on the ski trip in, Tom Chandler.

A Walk Along the Upper Sacramento River

January 14, 2010, by Tom Chandler 11 comments

Though the Upper Sacramento River was every bit as high as I thought it was – and no trout were hooked, seen, or even imagined – the fly fishing trip walk along the river (with Wally the Wonderdog) was exactly what I needed.

Well, actually it was a small, tiny piece of what I needed, but these days you take what’s given, and besides it was a fishing trip; no trout were caught, few casts were made, and yet it remains a smashing success.

For those who haven’t seen a pretty river in months – or haven’t seen moving water for weeks – here’s a photograph containing both:

No trout were caught, and my trip was a success. Could views like this have something to do with it?

After several days inside, Wally the Wonderdog never once stopped sniffing, running, whizzing or wagging, and because there’s little in life happier than a working dog who’s working, his huge dog grin says it all (this for the Wonderdog partisans):

(I know what you’re thinking. Not since Fellini has anyone so gracefully mingled the pathos and existential baroqueness of the canine universe. And you’d be right…)

The Wonderdog basically goes crazy anytime I get the near Underground’s BroncoFishMobile – a truck that’s seen many of California’s rutted dirt roads, and has barely lived to tell about it.

The Wonderdog loves the Bronco not because of the box of empty shotgun shells, or the fact the interior’s so dirty you could irrigate it (so he gets to muddy up the seats without fear of retribution).

No, he loves it for the places it takes him, which often include lots of stuff to sniff and critters to chase.

See you on the river, Tom Chandler.

Fly Fishing the Upper Sacramento For Hysterically Giggling Trout (or, The Icebreaker Cometh)

January 3, 2010, by Tom Chandler 10 comments

I fished the next-to-last day of 2009, and because I left the digital camera at home, had to make due with my cell phone camera – which does not take stellar pictures. Still, when you make like a Russian icebreaker so you can get to the moving water (where the BWOs are), then you’re not dealing with challenging subject matter:

I predict Orvis will release special "Icebreaker Waders" in the Fall of 2010

In that sense, my readers are lucky I only caught two trout in the 13″-14″ range; you’re not being subjected to really poor quality photos of average-sized trout (I simply didn’t take them).

The BWO hatch was heavy. The number of rising trout was few.

You don’t have to be a math geek to hate ratios like that.

It was a day I was glad I was alone – not forced to play nice with another fly fisherman (even a friend). I was able to chase the sporadically rising trout up and down the run, ultimately working pretty hard for my shot at four fish.

The trout, it seems, weren’t cooperating. Despite a strong hatch, one or two would rise sporadically for five minutes, and then stop (usually about the time you slow-waded your way into casting range).

A lesser, whinier fly fishermen would choose that moment to anthropomorphize the trout. “They’re doing it on purpose,” he’d say. “They stop rising when I get within casting distance, and probably start giggling hysterically with their damned trout friends while flipping me the middle fin.”

Like I said, a whiny fly fisherman might do that.

For sure I didn’t.

And yes, some days are like that. Some days you’re happy to share the fish, so when your buddy catches one while you stand to the side, it’s like you caught it yourself.

Other days, well… to hell with everyone else. I need a trout.

The obligatory Big Fish Story of the Day goes thusly; I drifted an #18 Quigley Cripple (Official Cripple of the Trout Underground) a long ways downstream, a nice fish ate it, I lifted the rod, and nothing happened.

Nothing.

That, my dear Undergrounders, is the kind of moment us effette, bamboo-waving dry fly fishermen live for.

Unfortunately, when something did happen, it involved two shakes of a big, big trout head, and the hook popped out.

Thus, one of the frailties of a downstream presentation rears its ugly head.

Sometimes the long, downstream drift is the best way catch trout on tough water, but the resulting upstream hookset means a lot of lost fish (more proof of an ironic – if not vengeful – god).

It was grey and lightly misting all day, and I was damned warm wearing my Micro Puff jacket (Patagonia). It’s an ultralight, highly packable jacket that deserves its own post (which it will get soon).

I’m largely old-fashion when it comes to gear, happily cruising along with slower fly rods non-cutting edge fly patterns, but I draw the line at being cold, and some of the latest cold-weather gear is startling stuff.

More to come on that.

See you (warm and dry) on the river, Tom Chandler.

The “Upper Upper Sac” Hatch Report (or, Why Wally the Wonderdog is a Better Fly Fisherman Than I Am)

December 28, 2009, by Tom Chandler 8 comments

Lately, Wally the Wonderdog has developed a pleading look in his eye. Though he’s getting daily walks with Little M, our fly fishing adventure count was down. Way down.

And while the Wonderdog is fine with a quick circle around the block, he’s not really alive unless he’s in the woods, sniffing everything in sight for clues to other animals.

So many bushes, so little time... The proud, noble (wet) Wonderdog surveys the Upper Sacramento

So the choice was clear: In the couple hours I had available, I could run downriver to a fairly reliable BWO hatch – a place the Wonderdog wasn’t welcome – or reconnoiter upriver, where the deer and the Wonderdogs play (though the BWOs often don’t).

Despite the spotty hatches, I stayed upriver, and Wally the Wonderdog and I had a fine adventure – a day out bereft of other people, disasters, bugs and yes – trout.

Let’s get the ugly bits out of the way.

From 12:30 until 3:00 – and on four different pieces of water – I saw the following bugs:

None.

From 12:30 until 3:00, I saw the following number of rising trout:

None.

From 12:30 until 3:00, I witnessed the following number of grabs:

One.

That last came courtesy the Big Bug – an October Caddis I tied on after the lack of BWOs became apparent. It’s a little late in the year for the big dry to reliably attract grabs, but in the absence of other clues, it’s not a bad backup.

Despite the overcast and constant light drizzle – perfect BWO weather – I never saw a bug.

In truth, the winter hatches on the upstream part of the river are far more sporadic than those of the mid-river region, and while I told myself I was scouting water in the hopes of finding close-to-home trout, I also knew it was a long shot.

Still, when Wally the Wonderdog reminds you with a searing glance that he hadn’t been fishing since the height of the October Caddis hatch, your priorities tilt away from trout and towards the dog.

True to form, the Wonderdog was like a racehorse breaking from the gate; constantly in and out of the water, he ran around like the Energizer Hound, sniffing every bush and shrub for signs that other animals might be abusing his wilderness.

The lack of snow is troubling - though not so much to the Wonderdog...

On a handful of occasions he spotted water drops falling from overhanging limbs and hitting the water, and – thinking they were rising trout – ran full tilt into the water after them.

If they had been rising trout, I’d have sighed and rolled my eyes. Because they were just water, the whole event became good clean fun.

If it’s one thing fatherhood is teaching me, it’s that you can rage against the universe when things don’t quite work out, or you can sit back and try see the humor in it all.

While us humans wrap ourselves up in a Gordian existence cluttered with expectation and righteousness and denial, the Wonderdog sees rings on the water and runs in after the trout that must be there.

He’s more excited than I am when I hook a fish, and he’s also (apparently) the more forgiving of the pair when I don’t.

Thus, today’s heavy-handed morality play; If a big, dumb dog can have the time of his life running up and down a cold, wet, apparently trout-less river, why can’t the big, dumb human with him?

The Gear Stuff

New on the testing front are a pair of Orvis “Sonic Seam” pack & travel waders (disclosure: Orvis – apparently knowing of my love for hike-in trout – sent these to me for testing).

Look for an introductory post soon.

Also, the Underground’s wading boot test is winding down, and while I’ve already made my preferences clear in prior posts, a final wrap-up is necessary in the interest of closure if nothing else.

Also, Orvis replaced my broken Zero Gravity 6wt with a similar Hydros model, and while it’s not exactly 6wt season up here, I plan to beat on the thing a bit to see what happens.

See you on the river (Wonderdog in tow), Tom Chandler.

A portrait of the blogger as a wet (but warm) troutless fly fisherman

Our Days-Old Fly Fishing Report (or, Good Fly Fishing vs Great Fly Fishing)

June 6, 2009, by Tom Chandler 9 comments

It’s rare that I run a fishing report 2.5 days after the fact (usually I just give up and move on). Given that the fishing conditions are of interest to a portion of the Underground’s tiny sizable International audience, I’m putting in the extra hours. Don’t say I never did anything for you.

The by-now standard TU fish portrait.

Wednesday afternoon, I went fly fishing. Wally the Wonderdog – eyeing the waders and fly rods as they came out of the Man Cave – wormed his way out a barely-open sliding door, and took up residence right in front of the truck’s driver’s side door.

Point to the Wonderdog.

Heading to the river in the Brown Bomber (my centuries-old Bronco, which has deteriorated to the point the Wonderdog’s muddy paws actually improve the interior), I figured the fishing would be good.

And potentially great.

Every once in a while, you hit the Upper Sacramento when all the big fish are looking for the big dry fly, and while that happens only a couple years every decade, we fly fishermen basically live in an Statistically Unreal Parallel Universe of our Own Making.

You know: the fly fishing was drop-dead great five times out of 300 trips, so odds are it’ll be that way tonight.

At least that’s how the inner conversation goes.

Even if the fishing's only good, the wildflowers are out

The reality?

I had fun, but few big trout. Right now, we’re experiencing the kind of fly fishing where – if you really bear down and you have some game – you will tap into a few of the Upper Sac’s bigger trout.

Or you can tie on a big dry, shove the drooling family pet into the truck, and just fish along the river, enjoying the challenge of making good drifts.

If you’d done that Wednesday night, you’d have experienced double-digit numbers of trout eating your dry fly, with the biggest being only 12″ or so. That’s a good evening by almost any standard, but one or two big fish short of “notable.”

The Wonderdog, however, suffers from no such size issues, and every trout is to be celebrated (and sniffed, and potentially eaten).

In fact – ever since the episode where Wally lunched on a brown trout that apparently fell from the sky – I’ve learned a net is an essential part of any fly fishing trip that includes the Official Sausage-Shaped Mascot of the Trout Underground.

In one gripping action sequence, where I was slowly fishing my way up a run to the sole working trout, Wally the Wonderdog saw the splashy rises, and – grasping the fact that I might want to catch that trout – sprinted up the opposite bank, perched on a rock, and then dove into the river after the next rise.

He did not catch the trout.

Neither did I.

Only a second before his Leap Into The River

After his attempt to retrieve a trout. He doesn't seem sorry.

The Facts

Because I was tired and basically craved the big dry fly experience, I hauled out my 8′ Raine Upper Sac Special – a rod similar in action to my beloved 8′ Phillipsons, though just a bit stronger (this is the first, solid-built version – not the same as the hollowbuilts currently being built).

Because I live in the same statistically unreal parallel universe my readers do, I was hoping to land a couple of 14″-17″ Upper Sac rainbows, and wanted a rod capable of making it more “interesting” for the trout than it did for me.

The often-empty parking lot was overrun with cars (including someone in a black Ford Focus rental who parked me into a corner), though that was related to yet another train derailment, this one just above Cantara Loop.

Alert Underground Reader A.M. said the machine used to un-derail the train cars woke him up later that night, and while nothing was spilled into the river, it’s an excellent reminder the Upper Sacramento lives with something of a sword hanging over its head.

The Fishing Forecast

With two days of on-and-off rain falling between Wednesday and now, the Upper Sac’s flows have swelled a bit, though not beyond the fishable range.

Reports from others are somewhat spotty; a couple guides said the fishing was generally good, though not always easy.

One tattered rumor suggests a lucky local stumbled onto a very brief Green Drake hatch, though on this river that usually means fishing working the emerger instead of the dry (hint: bring your Green Drake cripples, just in case).

Shucks on an Upper Sac rock. Interesting...

Simply put, it’s not a bad time to be fly fishing the Upper Sacramento.

See you on the river, Tom Chandler

p.s. – On Friday, I fished the year’s first alpine meadow stream. Report coming Sunday (though no pictures – I forgot my camera)

The Upper Sac Blowing Out (or, Might as Well Because I’m Working)

March 2, 2009, by Tom Chandler 5 comments

It’s rained pretty much non-stop the last three days, and as the low-altitude snow disappears, the Upper Sac keeps growing bigger and meaner.

This happens every time a warm storm rolls into town during the winter, and while temperatures could drop enough to generate a little snow later in the week, it’s clear there isn’t any Upper Sacramento fly fishing in my immediate future.

Chris Raine called with news of a four-foot hydraulic “pillow” replacing a favorite bankside fishing spot on the river, and we’re hoping to lay our hands on his photo of a helgrammite attempting to flee the carnage with an ill-advised crossing of Dunsmuir’s River Road.

In true outdoor writer fashion, I could pretend at outrage, cursing the elements for violating my inalienable right to fly fish (I’m pretty sure it’s guaranteed by the UN), but in truth, we need the precip, and if it’s gotta happen, it might as well happen while I’m hard at work developing and teaching an Online Marketing Boot Camp for a local economic development organization.

Like many of you, I remain amazed at how often work responsibilities cut into my valuable spare time.

Barring a few billion bailout dollars coming my way, it looks as if that ugly trend will continue. Damn.

See you anywhere but the river, Tom Chandler.