The air was crisp
with autumn chill when I was startled awake by the light of day that managed to
filter through the thick grey clouds. Hurriedly I fired up the dragonfly
stove on the table of my Umtanum campsite and brewed a stout cup of coffee
before stowing my gear and hopping in the truck to head for a pool downstream
from Squaw Creek where I had decided to start the day. The fishing started
out slow and the water that seeped through the pinholes in the feet of my waders
felt colder than it did a week ago. The wading was relatively easy and
safe with the flows so low (590 - 610cfm at Umtanum). While
a mist turned to sprinkle turned to light shower I landed one
average bow around twelve inches and lost several others on a # 18 partridge
& olive soft hackle before deciding to head upstream ahead of the
crowds so that I could pick a better set of riffles and pools, and boy did
I.
The rain had stopped
and the air had warmed a bit when I arrived at a gorgeous gravel bar with a nice
seam and eddy at the upper end on the main channel and a beautiful run and pool
at the lower end on the side channel that it formed. I worked back and
forth, resting one, then the other, until neither one seemed to be producing the
way they should and figured that the fish had all decided that it's not wise to
eat olive soft hackles, at least for the day. As I contemplated my
options a spot in the riffle above caught my eye where I just knew a
few trout had to be scarfing nymphs, and indeed I picked up a couple more
fish in that soft spot in the riffle bringing my running total for the day to
fifteen fish, the largest at about fifteen inches but mostly around twelve
inches (normally I don't count fish these days but I only recently became
successful at fishing the Yakima so I decided this day to count). I
think it was in this spot that a fish finally decided that my #18
beadhead flashback hares ear was worth eating, everything else had eaten
the soft hackle which I worked as a dropper. This was also the spot where
I hooked something big that decided it liked the other side of the river better,
immediately running a beeline straight across and disengaging my fly about half
way there.
By this time it was
two in the afternoon and a few patches of blue peeked between the thinning
clouds while the air temperature was nice and comfortable and the fall colors
danced in the first real sunlight of the day. Around noon I had noticed
the baetis hatching and their numbers were increasing steadily but I had been
doing so well nymphing, why switch? I love fishing a dry fly, probably
more than most, and will sometimes be very stubborn about it even when it's not
productive, but that was not why I came to the Canyon this day. I intended
to (try to) find big fish.
I hopped back in the
truck and headed upstream to a set of rocks that I had enjoyed last
weekend. I knew well that I'd have to wade deep enough for the failing
seams near my waist to let in water and soak my pants but I waded in
anyway. Before heading down to fish the rocks I made a sandwich and
watched bighorn sheep across the river smash their heads together to see which
is the better. This they did continually until I left that spot after
fishing a few minutes and realizing I was at the wrong set of rocks... it must
take a good while for them to come to a conclusion. Sometimes my fishing
seems like smashing my head against something hard - but that's a
different story entirely. When I did find the right set of rocks I hooked
several fish and lost all of them, one of which was very large. I had
played the heavy fish for a good four or five minutes and the thought, "The
longer I play it the greater the chance that the hook will pop..." had just
played in my mind when - POP! - out came the nymph rig flying toward me in a
mess. Cursing and wishing for something more than fifteen inches I waded
back out and decided to head further upstream.
It was about 4:30
p.m. when I arrived at another favorite hole and started wading out to the
gravel bar. As I waded across the blue-wings were so thick that they were
landing all over me and filled the air as a thin cloud. Thinking there
were so many that maybe they were tricos I grabbed one and confirmed that indeed
they were baetis - running from about #20, maybe even #22, up to #18. At
this pool my total jumped from fifteen fish to twenty-one before the sun had
gone down. Working the soft water behind a rock I hooked a very large fish
that I lost, and continuing to work it landed my best fish of the
day. The fish had plenty of fuel and afterburners. It leapt
from the water shaking and flopping while the orange glow of an autumn evening
lit the hillside above. Every time I pointed my net at the fish it decided
it wasn't quite done yet and would shake its head, turn, and make the reel
scream once more. Eventually though it gave in to being measured and
admired. I held up the seventeen inch beauty for a couple seconds
to really take in how awesome these rainbows are and, after I ensured that
the fish was revived and it faded into the depths a voice from the road came,
"Nice fish!" I gave him the thumbs up and after he had gone took a few
minutes to admire the beauty of the Canyon in the fall. Eight to ten
bighorn sheep grazed on the hillside above me. At the peak of the hill
their sillhouettes stood in sharp contrast to the sunset sky. The oranges
and yellows of the trees were ablaze in the evening light and not a cloud
disturbed the scene.
When I reached my
truck the bighorn had retired for the evening before I could get my
camera. It seems often that this is the case, some scenes just prefer to
live in memory and hide from photographers. On my drive home I
contemplated what I felt was one of my best days of fishing that I've ever
had. Certainly these were not the largest fish I've
caught. And, certainly that was not the most fish that I've ever
caught. But yesterday had all of the elements that make a memory...
strong, wily, wild trout, beautiful surroundings made even more so by the fall
colors and good weather, wildlife doing its thing in the hills, a consistenly
tight line for most of the day, and one good size fish to test my abilities at
the end.
-tight lines
everyone-
Jim
Speaker
