With more bad weather heading our way, and yes – the snow level is forecast to fall below TU/Man Cave World Headquarters this weekend (it’s hailing right now) – I’m doing the only thing I can to forestall madness.

I’m going fly fishing.

I own plenty of cold-weather gear (with a high of 39 degrees in the forecast, I’m going to need it), though it should have been packed away upwards of a month ago.

And no, I’m not saying where I’m going.

Mobs of screaming groupies spook the trout, and since my hand-scribbled, eyes-only map involves a new, unfished-by-me stretch of a small stream, I’m going to man up and simply say the following: I don’t want to share.

After all, small streams don’t benefit from publicity and crowds the same way panty-less starlets do.

And another admission: I’ve heard the words “up to 16-inch trout” whispered in connection with this small stream.

Phrases like that tend to induce lockjaw – if not outright hostility towards the rest of humanity.

That’s just the way it is.

In other words, expect a lot of smiles – and heavily doctored photographs.

Meanwhile, The Invasion Begins

The stoneflies are crawling over Dunsmuir in siege-like numbers, and one wag suggested it seemed like a prelude to an invasion (yes, they’re that ugly).

Fly fishermen love the things for the effect they have on trout, but even we can’t quite bring ourselves to say they’re cute – especially when one lands on the back of your neck.

Sadly, the Upper Sacramento’s running pretty high.

The locals are mostly waiting things out, though you can fly fish the Upper Sacramento – if you’re willing to walk a lot and pick your spots.

The payoff could be the biggest dry fly trout of the year.

It could also be a speeding ticket if you drive here – CHP is continuing their aggressive enforcement efforts on I5, so make cruise control your friend.

Today’s Fish Story

Fred Gordon – local guide and kickass ceramic fish maker (you don’t necessarily see those two phrases stuck together that often) – told me he was fishing the McCloud last week when he stuck a good fish, which he promptly broke off.

Frankly, I was relieved.

I’m not the only one who breaks fish off, but Fred didn’t tell the story to make me feel better about my shortcomings as a fly fisherman.

It runs out he wandered a good 100 yards upstream – through some rapid bits and another run – and ten minutes later, hooked and landed the same trout.

The fly he’d just tied on and lost was stuck in the trout’s jaw, as was a couple inches of leader.

At the Underground, we report, you shake your head and wonder.

The Weather Videos

In honor of the cruelest spring I’ve experienced in the 11 years I’ve lived here, I’m throwing Bonus Underground Content your way – a pair of weather-related videos that feature not a single fly fisherman.

The first is an entirely apocalyptic video from Oklahoma, where hailstones the size of baseballs barrage someone’s back yard.

It starts sanely enough, but at the one minute mark, things get a little crazy. At 1:45, I caught myself ducking underneath own desk.

All I can say is this: I’m glad didn’t have a car parked anywhere in Oklahoma that day.

Video two is today’s kinder, gentler entry – a nature video about frazil ice in Yosemite valley.

Some call it the slush hatch, and dammit – I’d love to see someone get a nymph through that stuff. Fascinating in a Sir Richard Attenborough way.

Finally – in yet another Surprise Bonus Video We Intentionally Didn’t Tell You About So It Would Remain a Surprise - comes something we found via Moldy Chum: Dennis Leary with a fly rod.

Frankly, if this scene had been subbed in place of the “shadow casting” scene from A River Runs Through It, fly fishing would still be the tiny, backwards sport it used to be.

Damn.

See you on a small stream (unless I see you first), Tom Chandler.

Adding one more hideously over-equipped body to the scrum isn’t likely to tip the scales from simple overcrowding to elbow-to-elbow fishing, but then, Steve Bertrand did take one of his weekend guide trips to Mossbrae Falls, which was overrun with tourists.

As he relates it, a half-dozen photographers were clicking away at a scene that’s so postcard-perfect every fly fishermen’s seen it a dozen times – even if they’ve never been to Northern California.

I’m always happy when the local tourist industry enjoys a banner weekend (which by all indications it was, suggesting people are vacationing as much, but traveling to exotic locations less), but that doesn’t mean I want to be a part of the crowd.

I did manage to sneak out and visit a nearby small stream where the fish are small and the “prime” water widely dispersed – a reality which guarantees the bare minimum of competition.

It went largely as expected; the water’s still a teensy bit too cold for the trout to abandon all caution, but a few small fish rose to eat my dry fly (and one large one I’d say was a stockie).

Sadly, my camera found a temporary home on the kitchen counter (waiting for the return of our pond-diving bear), so there are no pictures of this tiny stream – or the tiny, parr-marked trout that inhabit it. (Everybody loses when the cameras stay home.)

The Upper Sacramento River

Word has it the Upper Sac’s been fishing on the slow side of OK, though more than one hopeful sort suggested it’s getting ready to pop in the way you only find for a couple weeks in spring.

You know the drill: flows are down so the whole river’s fishable; the water’s warming and the bugs are getting serious about procreation; and with the bigger bugs starting to hatch, the bigger trout start to look up.

That kind of thinking focuses me on a few spots on the Upper Sacramento that I know hold big trout, but can’t be fished well with streamer or nymphs.

The big fish hidden there are really only vulnerable when they’re willing to slither out of their log jams to eat a big dry, and yes, we’re probably headed for one of those stretches soon.

Naturally, you’ll hear all about it here – but mostly after the fact. After all, I’m a writer, not a psychic (or a fool, though some have trouble telling the difference).

Time Exists So Everything Doesn’t Happen at Once

Einstein said “The only reason for time is so that everything doesn’t happen at once.” That might be true from a cosmological standpoint, but it’s a damned lie when it comes to fly fishing.

Everything does happen all at once when you’re a fly fisherman, and sorting out the possibilities is either a joyful exploration of potential, or a reminder that we’re all going to die long before we cram in enough fly fishing.

How you view it is your choice.

I’m starting another 1.5 weeks of a burdensome work schedule (anyone but a freelance writer might consider my schedule “normal”), and then my ability to make the best “it’s all happening right now” decisions will be tested – both by my clients and my willingness to drive farther than the eight minutes to the Upper Sacramento.

You could say I’ve got several destinations in mind, but that the savvy fly fishermen waits until the last minute to make those decisions, carefully piecing together the slices of fly fishing intelligence that comes his way.

The backcountry’s opening? The Salmonflies are a week late? Pink Alberts already? Green Drakes?? There are crowds here, but Stream X is empty?

That kind of thing.

I’ll let you know. And – assuming I remember my camera – bring you along for the ride.

See you on some river, Tom Chandler.

While the Upper Sacramento River is open year-round, the day retains a lot of its former meaning to the fly fishermen and residents of the area. Don’t believe me? Read last year’s pre-opener post.

It’s as much about the promise as it is the reality, which often includes high water, storms, crowds, and reluctant trout not yet tempted to the surface by the bigger bugs of spring.

A winter trout that's presumably still in the Upper Sacramento for opening day.

Some anglers are heading up to fish the McCloud River (which really is opening) or one of the smaller streams (which I’m not going to talk about here). In short, there are a lot of choices. In this economy, will there be a lot of fly fishermen?

What can you expect if you do come?

The Fly Fishing Forecast

Like all forecasts, this one’s almost certainly wrong (no fly fishing trip plan survives first contact with the trout or your fishing buddies), but the Underground’s not afraid to make the tough calls for our readers.

Forecasts of stormy weather and snow storms have passed into oblivion, and while it’s expected to be cool (highs in the low 50s, chance of rain), the weather actually looks pretty good.

Big Bugs

Yes, there have been scattered reports of adult stoneflies (the prehistorically named Pteronarcys Californica) buzzing around the river, but are the trout on to them? Somebody knows, but they’re not telling us.

With the weather forecast running colder (it’s been 80+ degrees the last two days – near record highs), the stoneflies might not be much of a factor the coming weekend, but anyone who shows their face in the area without a few of the dries and nymphs in their box will be shot (yes, we’re legally allowed to do that up here).

Need to stock up? Head for the Underground’s Fave Wasting Time Hangout (the Ted Fay Fly Shop in thriving downtown Dunsmuir)

Big Water

It happens every year; the rivers sit empty – and wholly fishable – prior to the opener, and the week before the opener, the temperatures climb, sending enough snowmelt through the system to make the rivers no fun to fish.

Right now – with a couple days of high temperatures – the Upper Sacramento is running near 2400 cfs, and is off-color. With a couple of cooler days forecast (highs in the low 50s, below freezing at night, so bring warm stuff), the flows will likely fall.

Naturally, the downside is the colder it gets, the fewer stoneflies we see. Optimists suggest we could see some decent BWO hatches in the cool, cloudy conditions, but those are the same Pollyanna’s who still believe in the Easter Bunny (bring your BWO boxes just the same).

And yes, the snowpack is already seriously depleted, so while we’re not going to see a big blowout runoff period (well, probably not), we are going to suffer some seriously low water come late summer and fall – especially in the smaller streams not buffered by a lake (like the Upper Sacramento).

All in all, I’d happily take the runoff now, but when life gives you lemons, you make lemon tarts (because we like them better than lemonade).

Big Fun When You’re Not Fishing

I’m hardly Dunsmuir’s tourism coordinator, but I do realize the Undergrounders aren’t one-dimensional creatures with a singular focus on fly fishing.

Some of you are interested in sex and food too.

I can’t help with the former, but food’s a different matter, and here’s the Underground’s Quickie economic stimulus post for an economically depressed area fighting 18% unemployment Guide to Eating in Dunsmuir.

Fast Food

Want to eat and run? The Burger Barn (11:00 am to 7:00 pm) is an Underground Fave (south end of Dunsmuir’s “downtown” area, right next to the fire hall). I suggest the classic triple cheeseburger (check that health insurance first), or the very tasty “combo” sandwich (ham, turkey, roast beef).

You can also grab a Subway sandwich in the gas station just north of the Central Dunsmuir exit, and if you find yourself a couple exits south of town (Castle Crags), don’t overlook the “couch potato” burritos at Ammarati’s gas station (a runner up to the slaw dog as Fly Fishing’s Ultimate Fuel).

Slightly Less Fast Food

In this category, we got choices.

Underground Fave The Wild Thyme is a cool new shop we reviewed here. The descendant of the much-loved Gandy Dancer Cafe from years ago (regulars are licking their lips already), the Wild Thyme is open from 10:00 – 3:00, and if you don’t try the Jamaican Jerk or Cuban Steak sandwich, you’ll be shot (again, we’re legally empowered).

An Underground Fave, the Wild Thyme Cafe open 10:00-3:00 Thurs-Sat

Regulars in the area will also know about the Cornerstone Eatery (big lunches), and the Brown Trout Cafe (on Sacramento Ave) also ranks high, though more for snacks and breakfast than huge meals.

And yes, you’ve got other choices, but I’ve never actually eaten at a couple of them, and yes – this is a blatant Underground “favorites” list (so sue us).

Want Breakfast?

The Cornerstone, Brown Trout, the Hitching Post (just north of Central exit) are Dunsmuir’s breakfast spots, though Saturday’s early risers will have the option of eating at the volunteer fire department’s traditional Fishermen’s pancake breakfast/fundraiser (at the fire hall downtown).

The Pricey (but Tasty) Stuff

You want a really nice dinner? Seng Thong’s (right by city hall) and Cafe Maddelena (Sacramento Ave – across from the rail yard) both deliver in spades – though you’ll need to make reservations on opening weekend.

Otherwise, diners will be treated to the spectacle of your face pressed up against the glass, salivating over the great meals being served.

Seng Thongs is a justifiably famous Thai/Vietnamese restaurant (the two-doors down Blue Sky Room bar also feeds people right out of the same kitchen).

Cafe Maddelena’s serves really tasty Mediterranean fare, though dinner for two at either restaurant will likely spiral up towards the $75 range.

Conclusion? Great food, but make reservations.

Special Bar-B-Que Rib Event!

Uber-bamboo fly rod builder Chris Raine will barbecuing (the real slow-cooked stuff) his famous ribs on Saturday night (5:30-8:00) in front of the Brown Trout on Sacramento Avenue – a fundraiser to help repair the famous Dunsmuir fountain.

Special Bonus for the Undergrounders: Stop by, buy some ribs, and mention the the Trout Underground, and Raine will give you one of his $2000 bamboo fly rods right there on the spot for free. We are not making this up (yes, we certainly are making this up).

What’s the Underground Planning?

Last year I fished the Upper McCloud with now-famous brownliner Singlebarbed, and while I love that river, I won’t be repeating that experiment (too many people, too few trout).

Everything, it seems, depends on the flows, and yes – there might be a small stream in my future. As always, expect to hear about it afterwards (I’m trying to avoid the crowds of nubile young groupies who follow the Underground’s every public move).

See you on opening weekend, Tom Chandler.

The fly fishing on Rock Creek has been excellent; the trout were jumping on our Golden Stone dries non-stop.

Yesterday found me holding my first pure-strain Westslope Cutthroat (pretty thing) in the net. Today it was non-stop brown trout, with a few cutt-bows mixed in to foment suspense.

Adding to the Extreme Fishing Situation (imagine a rock soundtrack playing under this report) was the oddly pleasant high-modulus “crack” generated when a high-end graphite rod simply snapped in half when my big, burly, sinewy, extremely manly arms attempted a hookset into a big, big brown trout.

Us writers are slight, but wiry.

Later, we pulled out [name redacted]‘s mini-drifter, but when we arrived at Stony Creek campground, the hissing from under the truck’s hood was audible.

The upper radiator hose had passed from this plane of existence, and if we were going to drift Rock Creek tomorrow (Monday’s the last day you can fish it from a boat), we needed a replacement. Fast.

Fortunately, we had the Subaru shuttle car handy.

Which is where it gets a little weird.

Montana’s not exactly bereft of Ford pickup trucks. In fact, they’re pretty much everywhere, but apparently, nobody feels the need to stock this particular hose.

After three hours of driving, we discovered the only hose in the area was back in Missoula — our starting point Saturday morning.

We made the 2.5 hour drive back, retrieved the Extremely Valuable Radiator Hose, then swung by the [name redacted] homestead for a quick shower (yeah, we needed it), a little beer, and a lot of food.

With two more hours of driving still to come, I sat down and added up the chilling figures; by nightfall, I’ll have spent 26.5 hours in a car seat since Friday morning.

I think I’ve seen as much of the world from behind the windshield as I care to – at least for now.

We’re almost back out the door.

Back… Wednesday? Probably. Should have a few pictures, but Rock Creek’s not exactly a leisurely float; the river is moving fast, there are damned few places to eddy out, and you’re focused on hitting the slack spots on the bank.

All of which leaves little time for photos. But because you are my friends, I’ll endeavor to shoot a few.

See you on the water, Tom Chandler.

Though I’d love to describe the effort in terms that elevate it to the level of crossing the prarie in a Conestoga wagon, the truth is rather simpler; I just drove a lot.

In the west — where things are rather far apart — that’s how you get from Point A to Point B.

I’m at the house of the Underground’s Anonymous Fly Fishing Benefactor in Missoula, and we’re throwing gear in the car for a camping trip on Rock Creek.

The stones are still coming off, the creek’s coming down, and for once, it looks like the Underground’s timing is damn near perfect.

Naturally, expecting big fish on top of the perfect timing represents a kind of hubris that can only lead to trouble, so I’m only going to say it’s beautiful up here, The Benefactor’s fun to hang with, and if we catch a few small fish, well, that’s just icing (looks around furtively).

I’ll likely be out of touch for a couple days. But don’t cry for me, Undergrounders. It’s the kind of out-of-touch fly fishermen live for.

See you in Montana, Tom Chandler.

The backcountry’s opening up, bugs are flying around the Upper Sac like confetti, and when I called Oregon Guide Dave Roberts from the river to taunt him about catching trout on a Pink Cahill, he fired right back with the news he’d caught 30 Rogue trout on a stonefly dry.

Damn.

Of course, we’ve got a few stoneflies of our own:

Yup. The Golden Stones are playing the Upper Sac.

Normally, I try to find a philosophical underpinning for my fishing reports, but today’s crazy, and the time I spend writing this means less time writing paying work, which means less fishing down the road.

You get the drift.

So here’s the scoop:

• #16 Pink mayflies (we creatively call them the "Pinks") started somewhere around 10:30-11:00
• Golden Stones were much in evidence, though the fish apparently tune into them a little later in the day
• There are many rumors circulating about Green/Brown/Gray Drakes – and the fish who eat them
• The Upper Sacramento is still a bit high, but eminently fishable
• Wayne and I left at 4:00 (things to do), but the fishing was supposed to be better later in the day
• I fished my 8.5′ 5wt Steffen glass rod (soft tip for pocket water casts, but enough guts to pull a fish out of fast currents)
• Bring sunscreen

I had ten grabs over the course of four hours of fishing — all on a #16 pink cahill. Sadly, I only landed one.

Wayne had fewer grabs on his golden-stone sized stimulator, but actually managed to get one into the net:

Pretty Rainbow Trout who made a simple mistake; that ain’t a stonefly

The Upper Sacramento is all green and gorgeous, and a after a long winter and an interminable spring, the color simply dazzles my weary, monochromatic eyes.

Wayne Eng on the newly green Upper Sacramento River.

Decisions, Decisions

The problem with spring is that everything happens all at once; I’ve twice put off my alpine small stream trip to fish other venues, always reasoning I’d fish it next.

Of course, now the week is half over, and Saturday and Sunday are spoken for (a shot at a pair of alpine brookie lakes).

So in addition to staving off divorce and making a few bucks, I’m faced with a choice between Rogue stones; a ready-to-break-open Upper Sac; and my poor, neglected alpine stream (for those counting, that’s essentially four choices, but only three days).

I know most the Undergrounders are in tears; my plight has almost certainly touched you deeply.

Wayne Eng fishing the far side of a current tongue (1 grab, no fish).

Never fear, Undergrounders. I’m a survivor. I’ll make it.

See you somewhere (I simply haven’t decided where yet), Tom Chandler.