Fly Fishing in the Heat I: The Band Didn’t Play On

Made a trip up north and camped on the river for one night–connected with Mac who was camping not far away. We fished the normal spots to no avail. Hot weather had kept the fish down. I fished for the longest time to some small rising brook trout, I conjecture from previous experience there. Nothing doing. Then switched to a dry/wet fly with CDC, aka “Cul de Canard:” that’s fuzzy stuff from the duck’s neck. The fly sits on the water and looks delicious and sinks slowly. That was the key–hit immediately. I’d been put to sleep by so much failure that once I hooked up, I failed–like a rookie–to keep the rod up. The brookie skeedaddled away. Mac and Mrs. Mac had less luck. After taking off for more promising pastures, I switched spots when I see small rises behind a rock in fast water where I’d gotten big fish before. Going back to the CDC after several long and inaccurate casts, he hit it IMMEDIATELY. One slight problem, though: I forgot I had switched to 6x tippet–very, very light! The bandit broke me off immediately–taking with me my last CDC-type fly.

Here, in any case, is a fish Mac got in the first day after a hike-in to new waters:

A Big Mouth Can Be A Good Thing

The story when Mac and I fished together this time went like this: we’ve got the whole big pool to ourselves and they’re rising like crazy! One on your left, I’d say–them Mac: no–right in front of YOU! Two o’clock high! Another! Wait–over there! It was like the Alamo,   which is what we called it. The takes were QUICK and we’d miss them–fast and furious, as the Republicans say, the action was. Then I said to myself–I’m not gonnna miss this one. And I sure was ready. The salmon hit on a number 18 griffith gnat fly and I WHIPPED the rod into the air for my patented quickset. So quick, in fact, that I whipped the poor guy right into the air, where he performed a double reverse back flip (9.9 according to the Rumanian judge) and threw the hook. As me and Mac said, this guy (here’s a picture of his brother) will never play the trumpet again:

Trumpet Career Over

All fish were returned to the water quickly–the ones we caught and the ones we didn’t. We’ll always remember the Alamo.

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