Here is an article contributed by a reader.
When a neophyte returns to an old friendly past time, a fly fisherman to the stream after a three year absence, the joy of temporary success is a special event or Blessing. Often I have heard that many streams fish better with a subsurface nymph or emerger, yet I was fortunate to find friendly rainbows accommodating my dry fly passion. The dry fly allows the bamboo fly rod neophyte a chance for far and fine casting without the trouble of straining the power fibers with extra weight; split shot or lead. Today was a wonderful opportunity to fish a new pool with nice surface feeding rainbows who felt my micro caddis dry was a reasonable counterfeit of the real article.
I had hiked about a mile upstream from my usually haunt, a fine run with many trout, and had noticed on a neglected unfished segment the stream had a small run going into a pool on the far side away from the mid current. I smiled because I could see 3 to 4 small triangular shaped mouths, the fancy noses of surface feeding rainbows. Because this stream was a downstream bottom release river, it had deep gouged out channels, where this nice run of oxygenated water ran from right into left on the right hand side of the stream. I was poised to do a mostly upstream cast with a right reach cast in the air to delicately place a dry on their noses. I started low in the run with the closest fish first.
Darrel Martin in “Micropatterns,” a splendid treatise on fishing the small dry fly, midge, mayfly and caddis fly describes the smutting rise of the hydroptylia miccrocaddis genus where trout appear to be midging. Gary LaFonatine in “Dry Fly New Angles,” adequately describes the concept of behavioral drift in chironomidae or the midges to early morning and late evening smutting or midging fish. Today was late morning so I used the Bainbridge or pheasant tail caddis, a nice size 22 dry fly or when I am in a skillful capacity a dark brown elk hair caddis without a palmer hackle, all tied on big eye hooks from Orvis and on gentle fluorocarbon 6 X or 7 X tippet. Today was also unique in using a bamboo rod I had completed from a 8 foot 4 weight 3 piece two tip configuration.
Since I am new to the stream my ignorance or naivete’ allowed my experiment to the flush floating microcaddis and my cast with a “right in the air, reach” allowed tippet and fly to land gracefully to the left and in front of the closest feeder. He glided left and took the fly and a gentle raising of the rod, set fast the micro barb and the fight was in action. He moved left into the great main current of water and gracefully danced against the soft yielding bamboo. I was overjoyed thinking my humble creation could tempt a fish and that dry fly purism on bamboo wasn’t dead and gone. I could grow to like this soft subtle game of exactitude. He at time bounced against the rod, or went full bodied against the current, but good fortune was on my side when I could reach the nice fat bow, and wiggle the fly out of its mouth with a hemostat while holding him upside down in the water with a wet hand. His freedom brought a quick shake of a tail and abrupt departure and I was happy he seemed unharmed, by our little dance. I said a quick Thank You to the great fly fisherman above and reveled at my good fortune, small fly small fish, bamboo, and a feeling of completeness, somehow of reaching a level never thought possible. I was a poor farm boy from Pennsylvania, but now was dry fly fishing with a fine fly rod, better than I truly deserved.
My Dad was a fine fisherman, tied flies, built bamboo rods from Herter’s blanks but never dry fly fished with me. Only after many books and lunches with the Great Gary LaFontaine or seeing the great Al Caulucci in the upper West Branch did I see and feel the gracious love of these dry fly aficionados. Then we liked graphite to run and shoot to the big surface feeding browns, but later when all my dry fly rods were completed I started nosing around on the bamboo, the golden special dry fly implements of grace and precision. When we tied flies and I pulled off a beginners tie and looked at the lop sided wings, the poorly dubbed bodies and the overly large head obscuring the eye of the hook, Dad would look hopefully and with a smile pronounced, “That fly will catch fish!” It was funny our little sunfish did just that, and forgave all of my rookie errors in tying and casting, and we had some good filets to boot, but I never was able to fool the wary trout, the prime quarry.
Today was different, I was older, more matured, nice water, easier casting had bamboo, and maybe just maybe I’d now like to catch one dry fly trout to two other subsurface trout of another – the grace and elegance of bamboo or maybe the upside down tie of a dancing caddis allows a dry fly purist that extra zenith of stealth and performance. I cannot describe it is the subtle acceptance of arriving, in the joy of an ageless soft life force rather than snobbery, performance or the numbers game. When in the Zone, somehow, suddenly all things merge into one, and River Runs Through it. Somehow using feathers, hair, and thread to make something alive or seem to “breathe” on the end of a soft tippet anchored to the breathing, living bamboo –is poetic justice -- but alas I digress from the action at hand, the joy of dancing trout to the dry fly.
I next chose the lowest riser in the pod of little baby triangles as these fun fish rose as a pod to the dry flies flowing over them. I had other good fortune in a cast upstream with an” in the air mend or Right reach cast,” and another rainbow obliged my hope and we did battle. I was amazed that I was actually getting more refined and accomplished, in playing, landing and releasing each successive fish. This was becoming dry fly ambrosia. Not needing another fly, I seduced another two rainbows, and had just about exhausted the pool, no more rising fish,and time to rest my sore bamboo arm. I was new to this, so often I over false casted but we learn our rhythm as we grow and endure.
Before quitting ….
The final rainbow was near the very front of the run so I cast to his left with a left reach and let the new little dry fly float over his nose. My eyes in my late forties aren’t what they used to be but somehow the nice rainbow saw it all with me losing the fly in the action of the take. Sometimes nice fish simple create a vaccum and the fly disappears and later we are fortunate to tighten out tippet to have a nice trout attached, all seemingly by an accident or Providence’s Good Favor—whichever you chose.
She was splendid; did a hard right turn and came blaring right at me and went real deep into the unknown plunge pool right beneath the little run. I was ecstatic; small fly, big fish and the deep 6 to 7 foot pool with no snags, trees, or exposed rocks was a great chance to land or net a large trout like her. We played and we danced and since she was large and fat and not into a quick fight, we endured, but later with time I could feel her weaken, feel the forgiving bend and ebb and flow of the bamboo fibers as she could still at times pull the rod tip beneath the surface; A fine day to break in my custom made bamboo rod, on a custom tied dry fly. She never jumped but played out deep, because of all of the insects she was able to eat. When I used the net to land her, and protect the tippet and small dry fly, I was careful to avoid removing any of the fish scum, the bioprotective layer from her, then admired her beauty and girth, she was a fat happy salmonid; then I let her free, to go back to her aquatic home. I had a joyful and happy feeling; I really had arrived; I just caught a 15 inch rainbow on a dry fly, home built bamboo, and 6X fluorocarbon. Besides the Wedding Night, or the birth of you children what could compare???
I hope all of you ly fisherman and fellow conservationists, have pleasant days a stream and are Blessed with Joy and Happiness; you do not really deserve; and after watching her, this lovely rainbow trout go, and feeling all young once again, I noticed there were no longer any small delicate” triangles” at the top of the run, all the surface feeders were now gone. I turned and started the long trek back to the car, but kept my eyes ready to see a rising fish, something I could cover with a little luck.