Watching the BWOs Float By (or, Fly Fishing, Expectation, and Reality)
Original Post:
http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TroutUndergroundFlyFishBlog/~3/259217420/
Yesterday found me staring out the window at perfect BWO weather, the precipitation evenly split between rain and snow, seemingly unwilling to commit.
Rather than continue staring, I dragged together the big pile of all the stuff you take on winter fishing trips, piled it into the truck, invited Wally the Wonderdog along, and left.
March Brown. One of two I saw…
It all looked good; the Wonderdog and I drove to a remote stretch of river (actually, I drove; Wally sat in the back and issued directions).
Once there, he attempted to sniff/mark/dig out pretty much every bush while I rigged up and rooted around the bankside brush for clues.
Encouragingly, I found a handful of medium-sized stonefly shucks and a pair of March Brown adults.
Good signs, and like hopeful fly fishers everywhere, I immediately laid it all out in my head; I’d pound up a few trout on a big dark stimmie before the BWOs started, then switch to #18 dries and pound the rising fish (there’d be hundreds).
Once the little bugs faded, the March Browns would start hatching, and I’d catch a few more (bigger) fish on a #12 parachute.
The plan. You gotta love a man with a plan.
Stonefly shucks, but no trout.
What could go wrong?
The stimmie failed to attract even the briefest attention, and though the Wonderdog and I fished a fair amount of good-looking edge water (the river’s up, so the edges tend to fish better), nothing happened.
Still, we made it back to the "technical" water in time for a sizable BWO hatch, and I — like the Wonderdog — was licking my chops.
Unfortunately, not a single trout rose to eat the bugs. Or the micro-mayfly I hung under the stimmie. Or the March Brown dry I tied on in desperation.
Those March Browns? The slackers never showed up.
While all this happened, Wayne Eng and a friend were fishing only a short distance above me (I didn’t know it), yet when we spoke on the phone, it was if we’d fished two separate rivers.
They saw few bugs, but lots of redds, and the few fish they caught fell to egg patterns. I saw what looked like a few redds, so I’d say yeah — it’s started.
I’m not much for chasing fish on redds — a holdover from my bass fishing days when targeting spawning fish felt a little less than sporting.
After all, they can’t simply give you the fin and glide away, and the battle becomes one of persistence rather than skill.
The good news? There’s a lot to fish up here, and I’ve been itching to try some different water. With local guide Steve Bertrand back and dusting off his fly rods, I’d say we’re looking at something different relatively soon.
See you elsewhere, Tom Chandler.
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