The L&T Nancy is back from her weeklong trip, which basically means it’s time to stop gouging dinner directly from the peanut butter jar.
Yes Undergrounders, the influences of the much better half are already being felt, though a fishing trip with cave men fly buddies Dave Roberts and Chris Raine doesn’t exactly reinforce most civilized behavior.
Sadly, our hardy little band of neanderthals picked the wrong day to get together; we stared straight down the throat of a post cold-front day — those cloudless, cold, windy days that mar the fishing after a front has moved through.
Past experience suggests the fishing would slow, and with rising fish already absent from the Upper Sacramento River, I didn’t exactly hold out hope for a banner day.
Once again, I was right.
I’ll spare you the grim details with this report: no trout, no risers, few bugs, no nymphed fish. There.
The bright spot was evidence of Skwalas and a water temperature that — 1/3 of the way down the river — was approaching 50 degrees.
That seems to be the temperature where bugs and fish become active, and we could be looking at an interesting pre-runoff fishing spurt. I’ll keep you posted.
Test-Flying a Prototype Bamboo Fly Rod
The bad weather was offset by the rod I was fishing; a prototype hollowbuilt bamboo quad rod by Raine.
It’s an 8.5′ 5/6wt that defies what everyone believes 8.5′ bamboo rods have to be; it’s surprisingly light in the hand, yet remains wholly capable of dealing with strong winds.
You’ll hear more about this interesting, two-tipped rod as I abuse test it (one tip is a 5wt, the other a 6wt).
The Ghost Warden
Those of you who reveled in our post about busted-trout-poacher Larry Baker already know of the Underground’s open admiration for "Ghost Warden" Joe Powell, who led the sting operation against Baker.
Powell’s the local warden who’s seemingly everywhere at once, drifting between anglers like a phantom.
We ran into him yesterday, and he’d captured four Skwalas in a glass jar — proof the stonefly shucks we’re seeing along the river aren’t fakes planted by trout to mislead fishermen (it wasn’t much of a theory, but…).
We got the scoop on the Baker bust, and frankly, if I was poacher, I’d find another region of the state to play in.
See you on the river, Tom Chandler.
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