Once upon a time I was a respectable trout angler. I used to spend hours tying nymphs and soft hackles; I named the wilted spinach after the salad my wife was making while I sat at the vice. I thought a 7 wt was a broomstick and I not only carried 6x tippet...I actually used it! I fished for trout in the rivers around whitefish, casting big, bushy dry flies. I paddled a pontoon around the reservation lakes in search of big bows and browns, and snuck around the tiny pools of the MN spring creeks, casting from my knees and delighting in the spots of the brown trout. My fishing life has taken a big turn the past few years and while carp have taken center stage, I would never deny the allure of trout. Monday night I was lucky enough to get back to some trout fishing with some good friends. While definitely rusty, the rhythm of dry fly fishing came back before too long. When looking at water like this things come together pretty quickly.
With the clackamas river, finding the trout is pretty easy. They are everywhere. All a person has to do is fling the right dry fly around and make sure it stays afloat in the swirling currents. I managed to find a small trout here:
Fishing my Paul Young Perfectionist taper cane rod makes the size of the trout irrelevant, which is a good thing on the Clack. I don't think I landed anything over 10 inches but each and every fish was a blast. And there were many. A rough estimate of fish to hand...no frills honest best guess? Fifty.
It was a great night on the clack. Nice to see some old friends in both the men who showed up and the fish who chased our flies. I will get back to the carp soon, I am already tying and dreaming of the next tailer, but going back to my respectable roots was a lot of fun.
1 comment:
Great post!!!
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