I got a pair of those ponderous head shakes that tell you the fish is big (or he’s foul hooked), and then the reel went from zero to ohmigod speeds in a fraction of a second.

That’s thrilling stuff, but hardly Jack London-esque — unless the fast-moving trout decides to run under the only laydown on the whole run.

Well played, Mr. Trout.

It was cold and I was wet and trout were going everywhere, so this is the only pic I got (it's the smaller of the two)

I waded over and sized up the situation. The trout was still on, apparently hanging around just downstream trying to figure out what was going on.

The fly line dove under the tree and made a right-angle exit downriver.

I remember thinking “I can fix this. This won’t be too bad at all.”

Which is when things started to go sideways.

Hey, This Clear Liquid Is Cold

Sometimes — for brief moments — I fancy myself a Man of Action, though at my age, you’d think I’d connect those moments with what inevitably follows.

Which is generally humiliation.

I waded up to the downed tree, put the rod in my left hand, reached down into the water with my right (a lot farther down than I originally thought, which should have been a clue), and lifted the tree.

So far, so good.

But sliding the rod under the tree took me a little deeper than I anticipated, and that extra couple inches meant the top of my waders (and the side of my head, and the neck opening of my jacket) got… submerged.

At the time it happened I realized it was trouble, but I’d started and you know how it is — you’re already there so you decide to brazen it out.

I distinctly remember straightening up — a huge wad of wet, decomposing leaves clutched in my hand along with my still-attached-to-the-trout fly rod — thinking I had the fish and I was still dry.

Which is when the 39 degree water hit my skin.

It kinda takes your breath away.

Shrinkage was body-wide and immediate.

I managed to land that trout — the second of the day. It went between 18 and 19 inches (Raine put measuring wraps on my rod at 16″ and 18″, suggesting a distinct lack of faith in my ability to catch 20″ trout).

The other trout fell just short of the 18″ mark.

I was wet enough that I squished when I walked, though — thank god for the Nano Puff jacket — I warmed up a bit after I got past the shock, though my feet never really enjoyed the trip.

Taken as a whole, that’s still not a bad day.

The Nitty Gritty Details

The air was around 40 degrees, the BWO hatch was light and only lasted an hour, but I still managed to get seven rising fish to eat the bug.

At just under one grab every eight minutes, that’s Happy Hour as far as I’m concerned.

The hook popped out of three with only slight resistance (it’s a #22 cripple after all), and I landed two of the four I hooked.

That’s not a stirring percentage — and I sometimes catch myself wondering WWGD (What Would Gierach Do) — but the fish are big and the hook gape is probably best measured with an electron microscope, so I’ve largely done away with fly fisherman’s remorse.

The 8’3″ 5wt Raine hollowbuilt has confirmed its status as a killer BWO rod — you need to make longer casts than you think on this stretch because wading any closer means the trout simply stop rising.

Thirty feet is a gift. Forty is common, and casting at an upstream or downstream angle can leave you with surprisingly little fly line on your reel.

It’s cold up here (we’ve got two inches of snow on the ground as I write this), but we’ve reached the Bonus Portion of the year; the “real” Upper Sac winter when the little fish go into hiding and the big fish start eating BWOs — provided the hatches come, the sun stays behind a cloud, you’re on the right piece of river, and the fly fishermen don’t wade too close.

See you on the river (literally), Tom Chandler

Confused?

The Upper Sacramento River's wild trout could be facing a tough, tough year...

California’s Department of Fish & Game was forced to suspend stocking activities in 2008 by a 2006 lawsuit alleging stocking was damaging native species populations. F&G was supposed to have prepared an EIR long ago, but hadn’t, and the lawsuit brought the state’s stocking activities to an abrupt halt in most of the state.

While the stocking program may have halted, the original fish harvest limits remain in place.

That means no rubber trout are finding their way into the Upper Sacramento River this year, yet the five-fish limit remains in effect from Shasta Retreat to the Sweetbriar bridge.

Once the river drops to a fishable level again, I fear for the wild fish populations in the catch & kill stretch, which will bear the brunt of the fish harvest.

According to a Redding Record Searchlight story, several popular fisheries were recently added to the “OK to stock list,” and local fly fishers will recognize some of the names:

Baum Lake, Grace Lake, Lower and Middle Burney Creek, McCloud Reservoir, Middle and Upper Hat Creek, and Whiskeytown Lake in Shasta County; as well as South Fork Battle Creek and Deer creeks in Tehama County

McCumber Lake will probably be OK’d soon, and while all this is happening, Fish & Game’s been dumping huge numbers of hatchery trout in Lake Siskiyou (the lake that feeds the “Upper Sacramento River”), and catch rates have skyrocketed.

Time To Fix It

I’d love to see all but a small piece of the Upper Sacramento River managed for sustainable wild trout populations over rubber trout and stringer-filling harvest limits.

Wild fish cost us little or nothing when compared to rubber trout, and reasonable limits or catch & release fishing end the ridiculous – and expensive – put & take games that actually cost us money.

My thinking is this: If we’re going to offer up a five fish limit, then we’d better offer up the rubber fish to meet that limit – else our wild fish populations are going to take a hit.

I’d suggest it’s time for an “emergency” reduction in harvest limits on the Upper Sacramento – before the river falls and the carnage begins.

See you on the phone, Tom Chandler.

And because the giving never stops here at TU, here’s a summary:

They’re bumping flows up from now until Saturday, hoping to keep flows reasonable during the Memorial Day weekend.

If you want the longer version:

Lower McCloud River Interested Parties,

We have had a very good water year in the north state and the snowpack is approximately 254% of normal. PG&E has been taking careful steps to manage the runoff into McCloud Reservoir by monitoring the reservoir level and maintaining a low water surface elevation in Iron Canyon Reservoir to provide extra storage to accommodate additional runoff and running water through James B. Black Powerhouse.

To prevent a potential spill during the upcoming Memorial Day weekend, there is a possibility that PG&E will be bypassing an additional 600 cfs of water from McCloud Dam. This would begin starting May 25th through mid morning on Friday, May 28, when PG&E plans to return to our normal operating flows. Since the current, non additional release, action plan is based on the forecast which calls for relatively cool temperatures the next couple of days with moderate amounts of precipitation, a rapid warm up in with higher than expected precipitation would increase inflow into McCloud Reservoir resulting in the need for the increased release.

In what we’ll characterize as a typical PG&E move, the email offers up a link to the Ah Di Nah flow gauge that doesn’t work (this one will – make sure you scroll down for flows).

The Upper Sacramento Situation

Those with a hankering to fish the Upper Sacramento will note that its flows continue falling steadily (around 1600 cfs as I write this).

With light rain and highs in the lower 50s forecast for the rest of the week, it’s likely the watershed’s extremely impressive snowpack won’t melt, and it won’t blow out the rivers, and fly fishermen – among the whiniest of the outdoor sportsmen – will have little to complain about (except maybe the fact that the cold weather inhibits the stonefly hatch).

See you on the river, Tom Chandler.

At least if you believe what you read in National Geographic (I only get it for the articles).

They published their much-anticipated list of America’s Ten Most Dangerous Volcanoes.

It turns out I live smack on the flank of #5.

The Fifth Most Dangerous Volcano in America...

Surely, the vision of the keyboard that delights and amuses both my readers my massive readership lying mangled under tons of flesh-vaporizing, molten rock surely causes concern (if not outright consternation).

(Note to self: I always knew I was a risk-taker – one of those dangerous, bad-boy types that chicks should have thrown themselves at in high school. Sadly, proof of this comes 30 years too late.)

Here’s What This News Means To You

With both the McCloud and Upper Sacramento Rivers virtually certain to disappear under a 450 mph river of 1800-degree gas and debris – parboiling the trout and making rollcasting difficult – the Undergrounders are left with one inescapable truth.

Drop everything you’re doing right now.

And go fishing on the Upper Sacramento or McCloud. Before the volcano makes wading impossible. (Wading on magma: felt or rubber?)

See you casting into the fiery pit, Tom Chandler

My week has been consumed by work, teaching, and a really ungratifying series of computer hassles.

And people wonder why we fly fish?

The Weather

Up here at Trout Underground/Man Cave World Headquarters, the forecast high temp is only 65 degrees – and it’s falling over the weekend.

With only a couple days above 70 degrees so far this spring – and most of our above-average snowpack still squatting on the surrounding mountains – you don’t have to be a Wall Street trading program to know what lies ahead for the Upper Sacramento.

A long, long runoff event.

Normally, It’s a Race

Usually, the season opener (in late April) becomes a race between warm weather and the calendar.

If the calendar wins, the warm water doesn’t show up until after opening weekend. (The happy fishermen frolic and rejoice in their good fortune.)

If the weather wins, we typically get highs in the 70s and 80s, jump-starting the snowmelt and high water a week or two before the opener.

(And the happy fishermen don’t rejoice until the runoff ends.)

Not This Year

This year, we still haven’t seen warm weather (and won’t for the immediate future), yet the river’s been quite high.

With many, many feet of snow in the hills, most of the alpine lakes might as well be 5,000 below the ocean’s surface.

And many of the small streams? Unreachable – some for another month.

Yet I know of one stream that may just be fishable. Plans are being made. Equipment being readied. And negotiations begun over timing.

And while the Upper Sacramento may not be in prime shape, reports suggest the McCloud, Pit and other rivers are going big guns.

So there’s still plenty of room for rejoicing.

See you on the river (finally), Tom Chandler.

This year – due to an above-normal snowpack in California’s mountains and rainy/snowy spring weather, a lot of rivers will likely be high.

You Are Now Free To Move About Our Rivers

(Note I said “high” and not “unfishably high.” The last time I pronounced the Upper Sac “blown out and unfishable,” someone wrote to say they’d had their best day ever on the river.)

What follows is a loose assemblage of rumors, half-truths, guide promotion and outright lies.

At no time should any of my readers actually believe anything they read in this forecast (I’m a fly fisherman after all), nor change their carefully laid plans based on this information.

Void where prohibited by law.

The Upper Sacramento

It’s high. And with all the low-level snow still piled up in the hills, it’s likely going to stay high.

As of this writing, the Upper Sacramento is running around 3000 cfs at the Delta station (the bottom of the river), which means you’ll find fishable spots, but the midsummer program – wandering up and down the riverbank fishing every likely spot – is a non starter.

That said, local guide Craig Nielsen has reported some monster fish hookups, though I’d suggest some local knowledge of the best high-water holes is needed before you’re going to get your net slimy.

There are also rumors of a midday BWO hatch – which (according to Wayne Eng) went largely unmolested due to the speed of the water.

There were even rumors of salmonflies in the air during the warmers days, though the cooler weather has put the brakes on that hatch.

My take? There are going to be better opening-day opportunities than the Upper Sacramento, but if you’re bent on fishing it (tradition, jonesing for Dunsmuir, etc), be prepared for some heavy nymphing, pick your spots carefully, and recognize the simple fact that trout are often in the slower margins of the river, not the mid-summer central spots.

Click Here for the Upper Sacramento Flow Gauge

The McCloud River

For those who fish the McCloud River (and there are a lot of you), it really is the season opener, and if you go, you may come to realize the local’s nickname for the river (The McCrowd) isn’t entirely in jest.

Still, it’s one of the prettiest rivers on the face of the planet, and you ignore that reality only if your soul is already dead.

The rumors are flying thusly:

Bob Grace of the Ted Fay Fly Shop says a boulder blocks the road between the main drag and Ash Camp. The feds are supposed to blow it up before the opener (everyone who wants to see that please raise their hand), but that remains unresolved.

As usual, a big snow drift blocks the road to Ah Di Nah, though Grace thinks someone will blast through it by the opener (much of this comes via Rick Cox).

Finally, PG&E’s playing its usual games with the McCloud’s flows.

They’ve turned flows from the dam down to criminally low levels – something they do whenever Hawkins Creek is going good.

This preserves more water for power generation, everything looks OK on the flow graphs, but it can hammer the spawning trout population above Hawkins (this is one of the things CalTrout is fighting in the McCloud relicensing).

New this year is a McCloud River flow gauge at Ah-Di-Nah – a handy resource for anyone interested in fishing the McCloud. (Scroll down below the river stage numbers for flows.)

Obviously, there’s no fishing report for the McCloud, but the river’s so beautiful, it’ll draw a crowd despite the looming access issues.

The Upper McCloud used to be an opening day secret, but those days are gone, and in fact, my recent early-season forays there have found anglers camped on every rock.

Thus, I’m going to play up the dangerous wild animals that frequent the Upper McCloud instead of the fly fishing in the hopes I’ll one day get to fish it again (without taking a number for the prime runs).

Accordingly, the only real rumor I’ve heard was about the small scouting party who went in, but never returned.

They were reported attacked by a rare California wolverine before a herd of moose stampeded over their campground and a pack of wolves moved in to eat what was left.

Sad, sad stuff. Don’t go there.

The Pit River

The Pit’s fishing about as well as ever does (which is really good), and unfortunately, the word is out.

Pit River specialist Allen Blankenship told someone (who told me) that the Pit is fishing phenomenally – if you can find some open water.

Last weekend, every turnout hosted a couple of cars, though with more choices, perhaps the Pit – no longer a spring fishing secret – will loosen a little.

And oh yeah – bring your wading staff.

The Fall River

According to the rumor mill, the Fall River is in really good shape and generating some really good dry fly hatches, though the word is they may not last long.

A lot of snow sits near the head of Bear Creek – waiting to melt – and once it does, the river tends to muddy.

In other words, if you want to fish the Fall River, you might want to do it sooner rather than later.

Hat Creek

I have no information about Hat Creek. You’re on your own, Undergrounders.

The Klamath River

According to Craig Nielsen, conditions are perfect and a few steelhead are still hanging around (you can always fish for trout), but he’s been fishing the thing all winter, and like most folks, his attention is directed south to the Pit, McCloud, Fall, etc.

The Lower Sacramento

This industrial-looking river is apparently on fire right now (not in the same sense that the Ohio River once burned), and one normally reserved guide suggested it “was the best day of fishing I’ve ever experienced there.”

They couldn’t catch a small fish because the 17″-20″ trout were at their baits.

Naturally, the Lower Sac doesn’t offer the scenery or wildness of the surrounding rivers – and it can see a parade of drift boats – but the fish are big and the catching is good.

Your choice.

The Little Stuff

Most of the smaller streams are going to be high, and those that aren’t may be hard to access (no, I’m not telling).

[ad#OpenX-468 Horizontal]

See you on the water, Tom Chandler.

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.

You’re looking at a pair of Korkers Guide boots with a studded rubber sole on one foot, and the plain rubber on the other.

Studded rubber on one side, plain "sticky" rubber on the other (courtesy my cell phone camera)

This, I think, should prove interesting.

Next I plan to do the same with the Simms wading boots, and yes – the Korkers will eventually permit me to compare studded rubber to studded felt (these thing were made for testing).

With any luck, I’ll return (sans dunking) with pictures of big trout and a review of the real difference between studded and un-studded rubber – and some idea as to whether the Korkers studded rubber soles will cut it on the Upper Sacramento.

Naturally, all this is subjective (well, not the big trout part), but if it’s one thing fly fishermen manufacture in abundance, it’s opinions.

See you on the river (finally!!), Tom Chandler.

Sometimes, an unfortunate group of pumpkin-colored caddis sometimes mistake the I5 freeway for a river, forming up over the asphalt ribbon in ill-fated mating flights, and while cruel ironies are always appreciated at the Underground, I truly have little interest in seeing what an October Caddis looks like from the inside.

Big trout on October Caddis dries? Yep, but not as often as you think...

Still, the caddis were flying, but after better than two weeks spent literally on the other side of the globe (completely without Internet access), the disconnection struck me, and I had to ask: “How did the caddis happen without me?”

The Caddis-Go-Round

The October Caddis have become a milestone event on the Upper Sacramento and McCloud Rivers; the October emergence of these amberish-colored, small-hummingbird-sized caddis often occurs in front of the year’s biggest crowds of fly fishermen (several fly fishing clubs plan outings), yet the weather – while often cold at night – is still pretty comfortable during the day.

The result are a lot of fly fishermen throwing big, big dry flies (#6-#10s) at trout, some of whom will actually eat the things in splashy, aggressive takes.

Of course, no fly fishing hatch comes without its “gotcha” moment, and what’s true is that often, the big October Caddis don’t generate much in the way of interest from the trout. In fact, it’s common to fish a #18 PED through an October Caddis hatch and catch more trout.

It’s also true – when I first wrote about the October Caddis in 2007 (“Fly Fishing the Upper Sacramento in the Fall: An October Caddis Primer“) – that the best October Caddis fishing might be found in early winter, when the bugs are dying and falling into the water.

Presumably, the trout “know” that dead bugs won’t make a last-minute getaway, and the party (as they say), begins.

Now For a Real Expert

Everything I’ve told you about the October Caddis I’ve said before (but oy, nobody listens, nobody writes, nobody calls, especially you kids with your iPods and fancy-pants phones, and hey get off my lawn).

Still, I’ve always stopped far short of claiming expert status around the October Caddis, mostly because I may have caught a fair number of big trout during October Caddis season, but never with the kind manly, chiseled-jaw confidence I have when hitting the Green Drakes of spring.

And while it seems that becoming an online commando is all the rage these days, I’m going to defer to someone who hasn’t spent the last month on kid-related stuff: Craig Nielsen of ShastaTrout.com, who does the responsible adult thing and posts real fly fishing reports while I’m over here changing diapers and ruminating on the power of bikini photographs to change our lives for the better.

Right now, it’s raining hard at Trout Underground/Man Cave/Soiled Diaper World Headquarters, and the river’s starting to come up, though the line between an unfishable river and a refreshing plug of water that turns on the trout is finer than you’d believe; at some point, both conditions may be true. (What, you wanted easy? Take up checkers…)

Simply put, I’m back, and there’s more to come, though what “more” looks like is yet to be determined.

See you fishing the October Caddis, Tom Chandler.

The McCloud River – which may be earning its “McCrowd” nickname – is also seeing a lot of fly fisherman.

Apparently, it’s getaway time in the mountains of Northern California, and I might suggest we’re seeing a lot of fly fishermen who are ending up here instead of more exotic locales.

I’m always happy to see the local economy acquire a little spring in its step, but for some among the guiding community, the strain of guide trip after guide trip takes a terrible (terrible!) toll, leading to heart-wrenching scenes like this:

Wayne Eng at the Underground's Corporate Ideation Center

Yes, that’s Frequent Underground Character & Local Guide Wayne Eng crashing at the Trout Underground’s/Man Cave Official Corporate Ideation Center, where he napped (untroubled by killer Chipmunks) until it was time to eat.

The Underground Escapes

With so many fly fishermen apparently enjoying the Upper Sacramento, I’m heading off Sunday to a small stream in the area, hoping to escape some of the crowds.

It’s a gamble; it only takes one or two good (or clumsy) anglers to pretty much chew up a small stream for those who follow, and I tend to stay away from that kind of water on the weekends.

But damnit, there’s fish to be caught. And this time, I’m taking the camera.

The Wading Boot Testing Continues

And don’t think we’ve forgotten our wading boot tests – especially now that Korker has thrown its boots into the fray. They sent along a pair of wading boots and many, many pairs of their interchangeable soles, and we’ll see what happens in light of the Underground’s somewhat unhappy experience with a pair of much older Korkers (I wasn’t thrilled with the ankle support, but these look sturdier).

See you (anywhere but) a small stream, Tom Chandler.