Observations

Watching the water is something I truly enjoy. Perched high on a rock mid stream focused on a seam filled with all manor of debris can be a very educational way to take a break from the casting and high sticking. Taking time out to watch the water can pay dividends too.

Such was the case yesterday on a Western Pa tailwater. Rusty and I started early at day break to find the river smoking and fog filling the valley. We found a nice spot with great flow and perfect depth for nymphing. I started with my huge golden stone by itself and Rusty started pitching some smaller nymphs that I can’t recall.

We fished hard for a good 2 hours with no fish between the two of us. I had gone from my stonefly to a #16 then #18 pheasant tail, then an egg pattern, and finally pitching streamers. Nothing was working. As the day progressed, we moved through different water, and not so much as a bump.

This is that time when you wonder what you’ve done wrong and all sorts of things start running through your head. Mind you, this river for some reason has been running extremely warm! In the 60’s to be exact (locals should know what river this was by now) and has been running at around 60-64 for the last few weeks. This is tolerable water for bows and browns though, and they should’ve been used to it by now. We even discussed moving to another stream nearby, but we knew it was too low to safely fish.

We pressed on, and just after lunch, were rewarded with the first fish of the day. A tiger trout I managed on a white streamer. We fished that section hard for a good hour until we decided to explore further down river. As we were walking down to a section that I wanted to fish, we stumbled on a beautiful hole. We decided to start pitching streamers there. As we did, my mind seemed to be playing tricks on me. I swore I saw several fish rise in the head of this pool, but aside from some midges and the occasional brown/tan caddis, nothing seemed to be hatching.

We fished for a while more until it became apparent that they were starting to take pretty heavily on top. Then we saw them. What looked to be black caddis, but upon closer inspection revealed that they weren’t. I’m no entomologist, so I have to research after the fact. I’ve seen plenty of black caddis in my day, and this most certainly wasn’t a black caddis. It’s wings were laid flat on it’s back, vs the “tent” wing configuration of a caddis. The other glaring difference was the absence of the signature caddis antennae.

Of course, after seeing this, I re-rigged my rod to fish dries, and my first obvious choice was a black caddis dry to match the black caddis cousins littering the water. My first few passes over fish produced nothing. I’ve been doing this long enough to know that if a fish that’s feeding regularly ignores a seemingly perfect imitation on a perfect drift on water that receives little pressure, that they’re taking something else.

That’s when I stopped to observe. It only took a few moments to realize that the takes were subtle and the dorsal was more evident than the head, so they were obviously taking emergers. Keeping with the black flies, I used a black soft hackle with a green abdomen (though the black flies had black abdomens) and sunk it just below the surface film. The first cast produced a strike by a bruiser who broke my 6x tippet cleanly. I would’ve liked to have seen that fish!

For the next hour or so, it was just fun. It embodied why we fly fish. That moment in time made the whole trip worth while. We didn’t “slay” fish by any means, but to figure it out was just as much fun. A later long cast into the head of a pool resulted in a beautiful rainbow breaking the surface gently with his back and a perfect hook up. The fish put on some acrobatics for us and I got him to the net.

I don’t know how many fish I missed, or how many I actually netted, but that window of opportunity made the whole trip worth while. I would’ve liked to have been into fish in the early morning, and what caused the fish to shut off is still a mystery. Maybe they wanted black nymphs earlier, a practice both Rusty and I avoid. Maybe it was the sauna like conditions of the river. Maybe the old “you can’t catch fish when there’s fog on the water” thing was true.

Regardless of reason, the fact is that they weren’t feeding early morning, then something happened that turned them on. More than likely it was the hatch, and they wouldn’t have fed all day if it didn’t happen. I’ll never know, and I’m fine with that. The few fish that I managed, and the breath taking scenery made it all worth while.

Philip

Presentation is #1

     Did you ever find yourself on the stream getting skunked, and wishing you had a specific fly?  Well I’m sure you all have at some point.  Most people know that the way to catch more fish is to match the hatch, but my belief is that presentation is #1. 

     The reason I find this to be true is that so many times my good friend Philip and I would catch fish from daylight til dark on the same fly, while most people switch with the fish activity throughout the day.  We will usually start the day with what is a confident fly of ours, or what we know has worked in the past(keep a journal).  Even as the temperature heats up and the BWO hatch starts, or whatever is coming off that day, you can still catch you share of fish as long as you present the fly to the fish in a natural and enticing way.

     The way that I began to believe this theory we had was when I first realized how to read the water during every drift I would make.  After a while of tossing cast after cast to feeding trout with no luck, you will start to learn.  It’s kind of hard to explain, but I know when you figure it out it is one of the greatest rewards in fly fishing.  It’s almost like your force feeding them but without the force.

     The best way to learn this is to figure out what was different with the cast that caught the fish, and the casts that didn’t.  Fish a nice run or riffle that you know produces trout, with a fly that you wouldn’t think of using any other time, but this time trust it and fish it with confidence and close attention and I’m sure eventually you’ll figure out how to read the water.  Because remember, matching the hatch isn’t everything, presentation is #1.

     And as for now and always “tight lines”

     Rusty Foreman

The magic of the partridge

     Well it is now cooling off and the trout are starting to feed on some very interesting flies.  Some people will do well on the tradition egg pattern, some will stick to the old stand by, the San Juan worm (Philip), and others will hopefully find the magic of the soft hackle.

     The soft hackle to some people looks like a sparsely tied nothing, and I agree, but how the fish look at it is another story.  This time of year a lot of the trout are taking some odd presentations, and I’m about to tell you another one that works great for all eastern trout.  The traditional way to fish a soft hackle is on or just beneath the surface film, well pinch on some split shot and start to dredge.  Yes, I know it doesn’t sound right, but a soft hackle drifted deep and slow can pick up some large trout this time of year.

     Now all you need to do is pick a natural and productive color from the past and give it a shot.  The best way to tie a soft hackle is with partridge, but various other birds will work as well, like starling and chukar. The abdomen of the fly should be thin and not to bushy because the soft hackle on the fly will give off plenty of movement  in the water.  Just remember when tying a soft hackle that it doesn’t have to look appealing to you, but to the trout.  It’s pretty simple, fish them like you would fish any of your favorite nymphs and I believe you’ll be surprised by the results. 

     And as for now and always “tight lines”

     Rusty Foreman

Back to Basics

It’s easy to do.  To get caught up in the technical aspect of fly-fishing.  There are so many products out there, so many aquatic insects, so many different types of streams and so much equipment.  It’s easy for a person to forget the the basic wonder of fly-fishing.

I think it’s the time we have on the water.  Most of us are caught up in our careers, or our life off the stream in general.  We look for any angle we can to improve our catch totals or to help ensure we catch fish in the limited precious time we have on the stream.  We get lured into buying that $700 rod because we think it will help us catch fish, thus ensuring our morning time on the stream will result in a fish slaying adventure.

Sure, it’s about catching fish, but don’t get so focused on catching fish that you forget to enjoy the scenery, or enjoy the fact that you’re standing waste deep in a roaring river, and not sitting in your chair at the office, or breaking your back at the factory.  Don’t forget that people have been catching fish since the dawn of time, and that Orvis was just founded recently relative to that amount of time.

I’ve been focusing on enjoying my time out, keeping my fishing gear simple and still catching fish, though catching fish is really just an extra for me.  This held true on a recent trip (the photo below actually) where my fishing partner Rusty Foreman and I fished a popular eastern tailwater.  We got there early on Saturday and fished through the am and into noon with one fish between the two of us.  Something was obviously wrong.  We were fishing water we’d had success on in weeks prior, and fishing flies we knew were working on the river.

The key for me was not getting too caught up in the fact that we weren’t catching fish, and to just enjoy being where I was versus where I typically am.  We walked out in the mid day and started talking to others on the river.  We soon discovered that nobody was catching fish.  One group of eight guys had one fish in four days of fishing!  We fished the evening, and picked up one more fish between the two of us.  We hit the river hard at daybreak the next morning, and managed one each before the river was bumped to unwadable conditions, and the fish shut down.

What caused the no-bite conditions is a mystery still.  Monday at work, I scoured the interent in search of an answer.  My journey led me through moon phase charts, barometric pressure theories and river temperature thoughts.  In all of that reading, I came away with the feeling that people tend to read far too much into this.  The truth is that the fish we seek are complicated creatures.  I know from keeping thirteen aquariums in my home and dozens of fish that they are complex animals with needs and wants that we can only guess at.

Rusty fished on Thursday this week in our “home waters”, under conditions that my research had pointed to as “unfavorable conditions”, though my instincts told me that the conditions were perfect based on past days on the stream under those conditions, and he made a killing.  Managing a 22″ + bow and landing close to 20.  Proving that the moon phase, and barometer aren’t sure fire ways to know the fishs’ tendancies.

Just enjoy your time on the water.  Even if you’re skunked.  We never know what tomorrow brings, or for some of us, even the next time we’ll fish, so take every moment for what it is, and if a fish blesses you with a strike, then great.

Philip Light

First Post

Welcome to thehighsticker.com! This is the first post for the site.  Just wanted to get something up.  I’m working on an article on nymphing techniques which should be out this week.

tight lines…