Glory Hallelujah!: Vacation Days >> A rare time off...
23 June 2004
Got up this morning, knowing I had this time off
(after all I
had
requested it), but no clear plan with what to do with
it, other than I was going fishing. Really, though,
that's kind of the way I prefer it -- the old
”flying by the seat of the pants”
thing.
Flying solo, as it were. Rhee had to work and I had to salvage vacation days or lose them, so that's how it came to be that I had time off completely all to myself. Definitely not used to it. But I can think on my feet and come up with something. (wink, wink)
My first thought was to get into a place known as ”Big Bend”. While driving up there, I had this deja vu experience kind of: a whitetail doe decided to cross the road just before I hit the turn-off. It reminded me of a TV show I used to watch called Northern Exposure, where a moose calf is shown walking about on Main Street, or whatever the street is. I got on the brakes and she made it across in her own sweet time. Evidently she knew it wasn't hunting season. This holy place was disclosed to me by a fellow who maintained an apple outlet on the way to the river. It was an annual ritual that we stopped for our apple replenishment and I was always eager to see what I could find out from a local whenever possible. He told me that this place was known as one holding trout of an impossible size. And that he had hooked into more than one that had the audacity to break his 20 lb. test line like it was thread. (Oh God, please don't tell me things like this, please...)
Of course, I had no choice after that. I had to go there. And investigate for myself.
Well, like so many other tales of big fish this one also didn't pan out, but it did prove to be a beautiful spot. It is also a great spot to backpack into and spend a couple of days on the river.
Today, however, after hiking downhill nearly a mile I realized that I was facing an immediate return trip because the river was up fairly high and pretty discolored from some recent heavy rains. It did not look appealing at all. But then, neither did the thought that I must now hike back to the truck. Straight uphill. One mile. Up. Ugh. Oh, man... this is gonna take a few rest stops, as in more than one -- a lot more.
My reasoning for not fishing here? I thought that maybe, just maybe, my old place up the river would be more appealing. I don't know why but I just did and so that's where I went. And once there, I got in the river upstream from the bridge up at the next bend, but nothing materialized there. Not too surprising, just puzzling. As nice as that spot looks, it does not often produce anything for me. I just have not found the secret yet.
Back to the bridge. In my spot where I have been successful, I worked it with a #14 partridge hackled nymph pattern of my own creation. Maybe I am just more patient in that place, I don't know, but I was able to connect a number of times and put 5 nice rainbows in the creel. Released a couple before I decided that I might like to keep some for a meal, and others got off by themselves. An SLR (short line release), if you will. Short because most of those were hooked practically at my feet. I was in the water.
It also may have been directly related to the weather which was forecast for scattered thunderstorms in the afternoon. And for once, the weatherman was right. But that is not hard to do in the mountains. Summertime there nearly always has rain on a regular basis. The sun was gone, it was overcast, and showers came and went every few minutes and I didn't care because this was trout fishing as I loved it. And the fishing was really quite good at that point. It didn't matter a whit that I ended with not a dry stitch on me. Heck, I had even forgotten my hat.
It is also the reason that I did not take a camera this time. I was by myself and traveling light. All business. So unfortunately, no pictures for today.
There were not many people there today, but again it was Tuesday. The few out there like me were also probably on vacation. At least two guys with a little boy (who badly wanted to get in beside me) were. They had been watching me from under the bridge and realized that the weather really should not be a deterrent when the fish are willing. I normally do not like the thought of fishing elbow to elbow and will not, myself, intrude on another's spot. It is old school etiquette also that one should leave plenty of room in the direction that another is moving along the river as well. If a fisherman is working upstream, you do not get in the river and begin fishing the pool immediately above him. An exception being if you are with a buddy and the agreement is to leap frog each other up or down the river.
Another side of this fishing etiquette thing is that although you should have, and be permitted, that respect of space, you also should not be greedy. And so, I relented after one more fish and told the boy and his companions that they were welcome to take over that spot. They wasted no time either. Before I could get the last fish into my creel, the boy had landed two. They were using worms which I did not object to at all. I have nothing whatsoever against the use of live bait. I most emphatically do not look with favor on the use of corn. That is just wrong. Sorry. It is my opinion and I will stick with it until I am no longer able to fish. And even then I will not give it up. Use artificials designed to simulate natural trout foods, or use live bait, but corn is not in a trout's diet, period, end of discussion. The worst thing of all is that so many corn users leave the cans on the bank or in the river. May lightning strike every one of them.
Crud. This has the flavor of a rant and is definitely not the way to end a good fishing trip.
Later...
W O O F
