I guess this is a pretty good fish finder. Tells me where there ain't any fish anyhow.
Or at least no fish that were surface feeding.
In Logan Canyon, Utah, the Logan river has a large, slow hole, actually a type of dam, where a wooden ramp was built along the deeper edge of the river to provide fishing access. This ramp follows the river for perhaps 100 yards, and when the water is clear you can see the fish stacked up in the deep water. It is a beautiful little stretch of river designed for urban fishing and handicap access. Naturally these fish see a lot of people and a lot of spinners, bait and occasional flies (there is no back casting room, so any fly fishing requires roll casts).
I usually stop there about once a year to fish, primarily to see how fish react to various versions of flies I have been tying. The typical response is immediate interest, closer investigation, and then rejection. About every 10 minutes or so a particular fish decides to take one of the flies. But if the fish have been "put down" they can hunker down in the weeds for a long time without showing any interest.
I suspect most of us would be amazed at the number of fish in a deep hole that simply ignore our flies.
I saw the largest Brown I have ever seen in this hole. It was a monster, maybe 20 or more pounds (and I'm not exaggerating, I just finished wrestling with a 23 pound turkey, so I have a pretty good idea of how big a fish would have to be to weigh that much). Any way, I was swinging wooly buggers past this monster (which he mostly ignored), but at the end he rushed for one, then stopped short, just about giving me a heart attack. Then, to mock me, I suppose, he leaped completely out of the river, showing me his large hooked jaw and huge girth, making sure I could see exactly what I didn't catch. After that he swam away, leaving me smiling in admiration.
Tom Davenport
