|
The last day off, I made another trip to a salmon river. It is
the third time in the past eleven days that I have fished this same
river. What is it that obsesses me to make the three and a half
hour drive there, fish for eight or nine hours and then the numbing
drive home? Is it the chance to unwind, relax, stop and smell the
roses? Hardly. This is guerilla fishing at best and only a salmon
river provides it in spades.
There is a life to a salmon river that keeps anglers fishing long
after reasonable men and women would quit. Knowing that the fish
are there and moving by you, having those big fish roll in front
of you as if to say, "Hello, I'm here, come and get me,"
the yells from up and down river as someone else ties into one tends
to keep your attention on the task at hand. Fishing a salmon river
is a constant level of high expectation. After all, it may be the
next cast, or the cast after that, or the cast after that, when
the big one bites. And don't forget the famous last cast, which
is possibly the longest moment in sport.
The cross- stream cast, the swing of the fly as it comes around,
the tap, was it a rock, a snag, or a fish? If you think about it,
you are ten seconds too late. Just react. Lift the rod, snag or
movement? Then you feel that first pulse of life. Yes, it is a fish
and that first shot of adrenalin hits your cerebral cortex. Now,
the initial run of the hooked fish, BIG, small, spring, chum, pink,
dolly, rainbow or cutthroat, foul hooked or fair? It could be any
one of the above. It's a big fish and then the second shot of adrenalin
hits and "Bam" you are jacked up another couple of notches.
If it is a big spring, you know that you may have a better chance
of hooking a locomotive and stopping it, but you have to try. If
it is a chum you will have a slightly better chance of landing,
but only slightly. Many times they come unbuttoned before you have
a chance to know what kind of fish it was. Now, that is a mind game.
(All previous issues are stored in the ARCHIVE
for your convenience)
|
(We are changing
the publish date to Fridays)
With the characteristic shrug of the shoulders, throwing up of
the hands, you reel in and check the fly, then the smile creeps
cross your lips, because you know, it is better to have cast and
lost than not to have lost at all, and you cast again.
Yes, there is a special life to a salmon river and only those who
experience it can fully appreciate why we put ourselves through
the ordeal. Maybe it is like Roderick Haig-Brown said, "If
fishing is an excuse to be close to rivers, I'm glad I thought of
it."
Trout Lies
Have you heard about the three trout lies? I know that you are
thinking about all the lies that some anglers tell or you are thinking
that all anglers are liars except you and your buddy and you aren't
so sure of your buddy. But here are the three trout lies that are
the absolute truth.
Trout live by a couple of simple rules. Eat and avoid being eaten
and don't spend more calories getting the meal than the food can
provide. Trout need food, shelter, protection from predators and
well-oxygenated, quality water. A trout's needs are taken care of
with the three lies. The feeding lie is where the trout can get
a readily accessible supply of food. It may be the tail out of the
pool, in shallow water close to the bank, a place where it can go
under cover of darkness and feed. The sheltering lie is where the
trout heads to when it is threatened. The sheltering lie could be
the logjam, an undercut bank, in the rocks or heavy water when dangers
from an angler, eagle, osprey, mergansers, otters etc. are present.
It is wise when fishing to a trout in a feeding lie to think about
where that fish is going to head after you hook it. The prime lie
is where all a trout's needs are met. The prime lie offers a concentration
of food, offers shelter from predators, adequate depth and well-oxygenated
water. The prime lie is where Walter the biggest trout in the stream
lives. When you learn how to "read" the water, you will
head straight to the prime lies.
|
.gif){kind=spacer}
