05-12-2006, 04:29 AM
Today was a red-letter day--the kind of day when I wonder why I don't spend more of my free time up higher in the mountains, with fly rod in hand.
I hit a fairly small stretch of river several miles up Spanish Fork Canyon today. It can't take a lot of pressure, so if you don't mind, I won't say exactly where I was. However, this report could apply to nearly any clear-running stretch of river with trout in it, up nearly any canyon in Utah.
Though I won't disclose where I was, I will report exactly what I used, for all you fly flingers reading this. From about 9 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. today I had very steady action nymphing, using a sow bug with a pheasant tail trailer. The sow bug I used looked very much like a potato bug, with its gray, fuzzy body. Both it and the pheasant tail trailer had red bead heads.
Hitting deep riffles and promising holes, I must have caught at least two dozen rainbows and browns today. Most were pan-sized, but three that I caught were between 18 and 20 inches. I caught one huge brown, with huge shoulders that took me about 10 minutes to land. He pulled me all over the river before he tired out and succomed to the bank. (I left my net hanging in the garage today--the only item I forgot.)
There's nothing like watching a small, fluffy strike indicator zip beneath the surface of the water, knowing that it's tethered to something explosive and wild. To raise the tip of a nine-foot fly rod in anticipation of feeling the weight and fight of a fiesty fish, and to have that anticipation rewarded, is something I'll never tire of.
I used to fly fish a lot but haven't regularly for a few years. I've been spending a lot of time bait fishing, since I often have my two young sons in tow. I hope that when they get older they'll want to learn to fly fish, though I doubt I'll be able to promise them too many days like this one.
With all the action I saw today, this day is definitely one for the journal.
[signature]
I hit a fairly small stretch of river several miles up Spanish Fork Canyon today. It can't take a lot of pressure, so if you don't mind, I won't say exactly where I was. However, this report could apply to nearly any clear-running stretch of river with trout in it, up nearly any canyon in Utah.
Though I won't disclose where I was, I will report exactly what I used, for all you fly flingers reading this. From about 9 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. today I had very steady action nymphing, using a sow bug with a pheasant tail trailer. The sow bug I used looked very much like a potato bug, with its gray, fuzzy body. Both it and the pheasant tail trailer had red bead heads.
Hitting deep riffles and promising holes, I must have caught at least two dozen rainbows and browns today. Most were pan-sized, but three that I caught were between 18 and 20 inches. I caught one huge brown, with huge shoulders that took me about 10 minutes to land. He pulled me all over the river before he tired out and succomed to the bank. (I left my net hanging in the garage today--the only item I forgot.)
There's nothing like watching a small, fluffy strike indicator zip beneath the surface of the water, knowing that it's tethered to something explosive and wild. To raise the tip of a nine-foot fly rod in anticipation of feeling the weight and fight of a fiesty fish, and to have that anticipation rewarded, is something I'll never tire of.
I used to fly fish a lot but haven't regularly for a few years. I've been spending a lot of time bait fishing, since I often have my two young sons in tow. I hope that when they get older they'll want to learn to fly fish, though I doubt I'll be able to promise them too many days like this one.
With all the action I saw today, this day is definitely one for the journal.
[signature]