Cool, cloudy and rainy. In a nutshell, those three words aptly describe our spring this year. Though we’re already halfway through June, summer doesn’t seem to want to show up.
While the water rages in most area streams and rivers, keeping most fishing to a minimum, I’m reminded of a cool, cloudy and rainy Sunday several weeks ago. It proved to be the best fishing day I’d had all year.
I’d fished with some family the day before, but today everyone was cleared out and I was itching to get some more fishing in. The river looked pretty good as I pulled off the edge of the road in front of the bridge where we’d fished the day before. The rain was falling in a light drizzle. I was thankful for the lack of wind as I put on waders and a rain coat and rigged up my rod.
In wading to the spot where we’d gotten them the day before, I had to cross a side channel that fed a ditch headgate where several big rainbows were stacked up. I’d pretty much ignored these guys the day before, and didn’t really consider the idea of fishing for them today either. The rainbows were in this side channel because its gentle grade allowed for the accumulation of suitable sized gravel for spawning, gravel which was really limited in this otherwise steep, rocky river. They were actively spawning.
Sometimes I’ll fish for spawners off of their redds. They can be pretty fun to catch and sight fishing is always interesting. Some controversy exists regarding fishing over spawners in the angling community. It’s a perfectly legal practice out here, and over the years the biological data from our state fisheries agency has failed to detect any negative impacts to the population from fishing during the spawning seasons. Today I decided to walk right past the six or eight spawning pairs of rainbows to fish upstream for several reasons. First, spawning fish can sometimes be pretty finicky, and I was antsy. Second, I didn’t feel like harassing them just yet. Finally, we’d had some serious action on dry flies upstream the day before and wanted to see if I could get ’em again.
So I walked past the spawners and tried to fish the caddis hatch that was coming off upstream. A flurry of rising fish is tough to resist! After a few tries, I caught a trout. Somehow, though, the hatch didn’t seem as busy as I’d seen it before. Soon, fish stopped rising altogether, and I fished dead water for the next twenty minutes. The hatch was over. Strange. Based on hatch timing over the past several days, things should just be getting started here. Hmmm…..
There wasn’t much I could do. The fish were done rising. I could sit around and wait for the hatch to start again, try nymphing up here, or………I could try catching a few spawning pigs in the side channel.
I took a walk back downstream and approached the channel. Lowering my body and starting to crawl, I neared the water’s edge and laid on my side. I tied a small bead head nymph on a dropper rig below my caddis imitation and started getting after it.
Kneeling up, I began casting toward the head of the channel, well upstream of the spawners I’d seen. Several drifts resulted in nothing. This would be slow fishing. Oh well, there wasn’t anything going on in the pool upstream, I could see that clearly from where I was.
After a while, I got a strike and pulled in a pretty brown trout. Probably in the area eating rainbow trout eggs. It wasn’t a big fish, but certainly better than nothing. I kept fishing the head of the channel, hoping to catch someone else, but had no luck.
I started working my way down the channel. I was tossing nymphs in front of spawning rainbows without much confidence that they’d take. In fact, the most frequent response was a dart in the opposite direction when a fly floated past their noses. After a while, one of my drifts was interrupted with a stop in the drift and a tug in the line. I instinctively set the hook and the fight began. I couldn’t believe it! One of the rainbows finally couldn’t resist! Long story short, I landed a nice one.
After the first rainbow, I couldn’t help but fish over the rest of them. I was patient. Sometimes it took 30 or 40 drifts, but eventually most of the fish I casted over took the nymph and ended up at the other end of my line. I had some great action, landing some beautiful fish and breaking off a couple of huge fish I wish I’d have gotten pictures of.
I didn’t have a watch, but I knew I’d spent some serious time fishing the side channel. For the first time in a while, I looked upstream toward the big pool I’d fished earlier. Wouldn’t you believe it, the caddis were coming off and fish were rising once again! I rushed upstream to the previous post and proceeded to rid my line of the nymph and tie on a fresh caddis.
The next two hours were some of the fastest fishing I’ve ever had. Fish were coming out of the water everywhere, and I was catching them just as fast as I could get my line out after releasing the previous trout. It was great. I imagine I could have stayed there till dark and caught a hundred fish, but finally the hatch tapered off and the dry fly fishing was over.
After a full day’s fishing condensed into just a few hours, I drove through the rain back to the house with a smile. Days like these only come around every once in a while, but they’re a big part of why all of us fish.
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