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Change of pace...

Started by Woolly Bugger, September 16, 2019, 21:00:58 PM

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Woolly Bugger

September 16, 2019, 21:00:58 PM Last Edit: September 16, 2019, 21:29:06 PM by Woolly Bugger

That night after checking the weather and TVA app, I decided to make a trip to the SoHo. I hadn't been in a while. I don't like the drive. It's about an hour too long now. I used to go early and fish late, often leaving at 5 in the morning and getting home around midnight. Next vehicle will have "lane assist" if not full autonomous driving! I wish...
Gary and Bob, the guys who were there when Driver and I fished there a while back and had invited me on a Montana trip which I had to decline due to life, had just pulled off in front of me and we spoke before heading off in different directions. They are fond of the slickwater of the big pool and I like the riffles down below. I was going to wet wade but the temps hadn't gotten out of the 60s and it was overcast.

Gary had mentioned seeing a few risers and he had intended to stay on the surface. I wasn't so sure and still had a dry dropper rig on the rod. Usual spots failed to produce but I finally started getting into some fish. Most were small for the SoHo, but bigger than the Smith River browns. I saw a few risers and clipped the dropper off and caught a couple on the comparadun. Later I went back to nymphing and continued to catch fish. I even hooked a large brown the worried me as he was right in front of a root wad on the edge of some deep and fast water. He held tight and all I could do was apply side pressure to wear it down. Left, to the left and then to the right, not too hard but don't let it turn and run if at all possible. By this time I had a witness on the shore, the old man who owns some property along the river called out to me, reminding of AB Sales and how he would call out instructions to those of us who fished his water on the Jackson. I switched sides once again and felt the fish move and then the hook popped out. I was heartbroken. It took a moment for me to put things in perspective and then sat down on one of the few smooth round rocks in the river and drank a beer. More fish were caught but the big one was still on my mind when I pulled another large fish off the far bank, it ran and then jumped and then it too was gone. I flailed my rod in the air and sighed heavily. More small fish came but they weren't enough to console me.

Things slowed down after the morning pulse moved through and I searched another section without any luck before deciding that I had had enough for the day. An osprey dove down in front of me and missed its target. It kept me company for a while from the treetops above the river. Bob and Gary played their dry fly game never moving from their spot except to gather and discuss fly patterns and other important matters that couldn't be shouted across the water.

I headed home around 3:30. Five and a half hours of windshield time and 6 and a half of fishing.

ex - I'm not going to live with you through one more fishing season!

me -There's a season?

Pastor explains icons to my son: you know like the fish symbol on the back of cars.

My son: My dad has two fish on his car and they're both trout!


"Why don't you knock it off with them negative waves? Why don't you dig how beautiful it is out here? Why don't you say something righteous and hopeful for a change? " <br />-Oddball, 1970


"The problem with the world is that the intelligent people are full of doubts, while the stupid ones are full of confidence."

― Charles Bukowski


Good going Woolly and good pics. I was also out there over the weekend and had one of those moments. Water had dropped after the pulse, catching still good with a good pod of willing fish in front of me.
I look up River and hear the sound of a kayak scraping the bottom. Yep, three of them with what appeared to be locals aboard coming my way. Surely they will stay to the far side of the river....these were not kids. With them still fifty yards upstream I hook up with the nicest fish of the day. Had the thing on 7x (both 6x spools were empty by this time, idiot ). I was getting the upper hand on the fish after several back and forth runs. When I hear "look he has a trout".  By this time all three kayaks are close by and decide it would be fun (?)to paddle over top of my fish in the pool to see it better. Of course this doesn't suit the big trout and it makes a sudden lunge and breaks me off! Did this really happen? I just stood there and my redneck spectators paddle on. When they were several hundred yards below me I hear three pistol shots from their direction, perhaps it was a good thing I did keep my mouth shut.

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