----- Original Message -----
Sent: Friday, March 07, 2003 10:19
PM
Subject: I found your fly on the Sol Duc
this morning
I left work Thursday night after all of my 36 residents had their meds
and were tucked into bed. Caught the ferry at 10:30 pm and arrived in the
Beaver Creek campground by 1:30 am. Got 4 hours of sleep and made coffee. Had
some Old fashion doughnuts and went to my hole below Sappho. I was almost
through the pool when I looked down and saw a fly hooked around a rock. At
first I thought it was my fly that I had lost a couple weeks before, but it
was different. I looked across the river and the other flies I had lost were
still in the trees. My fly, or version of the Aleutian Prince/Queen Hareball,
has pink shoulders/purple body/ purple tail. Yours had purple shoulders/cerise
body/silver flashabou tail. Actually it was a crinkly flashabou like MOP
strands. A kind of hareball flasher. I retrieved it from the bottom and tucked
it into my box. While that fly was in the water, it had such great action and
look, that it just made sense. I thought, what a great spot to trade flies as
I had left some pink ones for you. I finished that hole without losing any
flies and dashed off to the hole by Shuwah, mixing Old fashions and beef
jerky. I walked in and started fishing at the top using my cop car wannabe (by
tying from vague descriptions, I ended up with a white hareball with cerise
hare tied wing style and flanks of cerise golden tippet with jungle cock
eyes). No luck, but I really thought the hole had some potential so I started
over back at the top. Your fly was calling my name and I said, OK. Half way
through and wham, but as soon as I had the hit, it was gone. It was the most
significant evidence, other than sightings, that there is big Steelhead on the
peninsula. Slowly stepping back, I started over 30 feet up. Wham, another hit
with no connect. This time it was 10 yards farther downstream and away from
the bank. About this time, a gear chucker appeared and started fishing my run.
I cast 115 feet across his line (thanks Goran Anderson, Andy Murray, Tim
Rajeff, George Cook, Steve Choate, Way Tin, Mike McCune, Scott Odonnell, Dana
Sturn and Dennis Worley) and then he realized I was there. He was kind enough
to move downstream, but it was too late. There were no more hits after that
chunk of metal had dredged my run.
I have a few questions for the maker
of the most important thing in my life this year (except my tax refund). What
do you call your fly? And what is your name?
Matt
