Today I did some warm water fishing, first for redbreast sunfish in a mill pond. I used a white palmer dry fly. The fish were all tiny, so I moved to another pond.
The second pond is a bit bigger and loaded with big bluegill and bass. Coincidentally a heavy hatch of white caddis was on, with Bass and Bluegill rising to them. My size twelve white palmer matched them as good as anything. I was soon nailing good sized bluegill and the occasional bass. I caught fish well into the dark, and the caddis just kept coming. By the time I left it was to dark to see the fly, so I had it sunken and was using a figure eight retrieve. The fish ate it less often but it was easier to tell when they did.
I went to my home water today, this time by bike. I had forgotten how convenient it was. I reached the stream and was delighted to see the water level was perfect. The air smelled perfect, and the water clearer than clear. An assortment of typical small stream bugs were hatching: Hendricksons, little yellow sallies, midges.
The first fly used was a red Humpy. It was eaten by a fairly healthy brown and some salmon parr.
After failing for a while to get hits on the Humpy, I put on a dry dropper rig. I haven't used dry droppers often until recently, when I did I did because it was the only way to see rises to a small dry or emerger. I have to say that I have taken a liking to such a set up. Today a pheasant tail was dropped off of an Ausable Wulff. It killed. Though it took me a while to get in the rhythm, and I ended up missing an absolute hog. I would have to say he would go sixteen inches. For a small stream that is enormous.
When I did get in the right timing, the trickle of trout became a flood. To my delight among the browns and parr a native brook trout found the fly.
In one pool that I know to be very productive, I got two sizeable browns from a foam line on the far side. All of the fish fought well, but these two were particularly strong for some unknown reasons. As I fished the skies clouded over, and thunder rumbled in the distance. The fishing was good so I ignored the weather.
I was finnally ready to leave when rain began to spatter down. I was a wet ride home.
I decided to take video at one good pool and got one to eat the Bomber on video. It was actually the last of the day.
I mentioned a simple fly in the previous post. It is a soft hackle streamer tied on a size 8 streamer hook. The body is either gold tinsel or gold tinsel and yellow monofillament. I tie an antron tail on some. The hackle is either orange hen or pheasant crest. I have only used them a bit, but simple tends to end up being productive.
I don't like being out fished, particularly on a trout stream by my spin-fishing colleague. Dalton caught seven Brook Trout today on spinners. I managed one. Regardless of the fact that they were all stockers, they were pretty and fought well. One Dalton caught was pushing sixteen inches.
My lonely brookie took a size eight yellow bodied orange soft hackle. When they are attacking other's spinners, this fly is killer. I did get a few good fallfish on a March Brown, and was covering a rise when two beavers went through the pool and shut him off.
Today I wanted to fish a pond that can only be fly fished from a boat or kayak. Unable to do so today, I traversed the shore throwing spinnerbaits and top water lures. I got one largemouth on the spinnerbait, and one on a jig. Both took next to a sunken tree. Quit a few bass took the Heddon Torpedo.
I love bass, but little can trump the attack of Esox niger on a topwater lure or fly. They come in from the side and turn as they hit, sending an arc of spray into the air. Often the come clean out of the water in the attack. Unfortunately they are good at missing the lure altogether. I lost all but one of the twelve or so that charged the torpedo.
I also saw a bunch of big common carp hanging out in the flats. Some were sipping seeds, Alder Flies (these big caddis like bugs were fairly active, blundering into the surface on occasion) and vegetation
Looks like I'll need to get the dog biscuits and spun dear hair dry flies ready!
Today my fishing revolved around the use of weighted flies and tiny shot. The first location these were used was a small native trout stream, where an Isonychia pattern manged a good sized brook trout amid salmon par. He ate in a run at the head of a pool. The big boy did a few jumps and one good run. I got him in safely and he gave me a brief window of opportunity to take his picture. Back he went, his red fins the only part of him that was visible against the pebbled background.
On to a big stocked river I went, there the Iso did the trick, coming up twice with Rainbow attached. When it failed to produce the Copper John did, and a 15 inch brown trout came to my feet. The last fly of the day broke the rule, a bucktail. Several casts later it was taken by something big. By the bronze and red flash I knew it was a large brook trout. The line when slack. My heart caught in my throat. I hat loosing good fish. I stood silently or a while.
Looked down while kneeling by the pool and this guy was right by my knee.
I returned to the stretch of small stream that I call my home water today. It wasn't as high as I thought it would be, nor was it discolored. It was moving a bit, and that is always good for big dries. The chosen rigs were a Bomber and two dry dropper rigs, one with San Juan and Humpy, the other with Hare's Ear and Royal Wulff. The brown trout were taking either or, and the salmon par that are always prevalent selectively took the nymph.
None of the trout to hand were all that big but one of the bigger boys did come up for and miss the Wulff. Regardless of size the wild trout were full of energy and very colorful. I did get two stockers way downstream, they rarely make it into the best stretch of stream. When they do and I catch one after landing tons of gorgeous stream born fish, I am disappointed.
Can You Tell the Difference?
The walk home was a perfect one. Flowers in bloom, birds everywhere, green! green! green!!!
I heard some wrens making a ruckus. Looking up, a bard owl was no more than ten feet above me. Being that it was already dark, and I was shaking (its not often you get to be that close), I had to use a flash. An owl's eyes will glow red no matter what.
On the way home I stopped by a farm pond, and let the Edson Tiger fly. It came back with a gill attached. It was a good end to a very good day.
