With Upper Sacramento River flows already spiking and multiple storms forecast for the next 2-3 weeks, it’s time to admit it: In a symbolic and literal sense, this sporting season is over.

When's the fishing & shooting season end anyway?
The coming snow storms will seal off access to most of the river, and the large BWO hatches tend to disappear by mid-January anyway.
In addition, the Upper Sacramento’s flows get spikey, though that doesn’t mean some fly fishing can’t be had – especially if you’re handy with a pair of xc-skis.
Still, the end of the season has a rhythm all its own, the hopeful portion of which includes getting things ready for next season – when it will once again be warm and sunny, big bugs will hatch, and the days grow longer.
For now, there’s a big pile of rod tubes in the Man Cave that need sorting (saving the two you’ll potentially fish on ski/fish trips or road trips to other rivers).
There are reels to unspool, lines to clean, and yes – waders to patch (time to fix the pinholes you’ve been tolerating).
Then there’s the other gear; a rifle & shotgun which need to be cleaned one last time, oiled against rust, and then locked away until the weather improves, the snow melts, and the local shooting ranges open.
Fly fishing and shooting are traditional sports practiced in a modern setting, which is probably why the act of drawing an oiled patch through a rifle or shotgun barrel – or unspooling a fly line and coiling it loosely – feels timeless.
The connection to the past is almost unbearably romantic, which is probably why I pay special attention to an end-of-season rite that – strictly speaking – isn’t truly necessary.
There are plenty of year-round places to fish within a couple hours drives, and while a good snow can close the Dunsmuir range, it also tends to melt out fairly early – and in some cases they even plow it so the local CHP officers can qualify.
And yes, I’m still shooting my 10 meter target airgun in the Man Cave.
In other words, the concept of “season’s end” doesn’t really measure up to the reality, and to those who couldn’t wait to point that out, I say the following:
Screw reality.
After all, ignoring inconvenient facts is also a traditional sporting concept, and in this case, it’s one I’m happy to embrace.
Thus, despite the fact I’ll probably fish several times between now and better weather, the fishing season is over.
And while I’m shooting pretty much continuously at home, shooting season is also over.
Simply put, I deny reality, and replace it with my own.
And I’m doing so because it pleases me, which is appropriate.
After all, I shoot clay “birds” which no one can eat, and bust my butt to catch trout – which I then release.
If observing an enjoyable – if largely illusory – milestone adds to either experience, then it’s time to embrace that milestone.
This season’s over.
Long live the season.




























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