It Was Good, For Awhile

I decided to head out this afternoon to the Grand River near Inverhaugh – first to meet with Ian James to pick up a pair of waders he’d like a second opinion on, and then of course, to wet some flies.  Had an enjoyable and funny chat with Ian before he had to scoot off, and then it was time to get my waders wet.

Bright sunny day, no cloud cover, and warm.  Fished some nymphs for a while, but there was no action, except for a couple of guys standing on the bridge above me, yapping. I don’t mind folks talking to me when I’m fishing, but sometimes when they don’t stop, it becomes annoying.   Buddy on the bridge was, I guess, trying to be helpful, giving me advice on what flies I should be using and what size – he was critical of the fact I was using a size 12 nymph and told me I should be using a size 18 or 20.

Ohh… kayy.. anyhow, he kept on about this, and I decided that indeed, it was time for a change of flies.  Just to try to ignore him, I tied on something completely different – my “weird” fly I wrote about the other day.  Would you believe the second cast, I brought a lovely 14″ brown to hand?  I could hardly believe it myself.  Seems Buddy On The Bridge didn’t want to believe it either, and shortly thereafter, tranquility and peace resumed.

There were a couple of anglers further down the river, and I  have no idea what sucess if any, they were having – and it was nice to simply stand in the river, and work on some accuracy while the fishing was slow.  Although the 14 incher took that fly on the second cast, there was nothing after that.

Then, a mayfly hatch started, just as a father and son team walked down to the river.  It was nice to see this kid, probably about 12 years old with a fly rod in hand.  It was also nice to see a whole lot of fish rising, too.  The kid did pretty good – he had a fish on his first cast and I was happy for him as he excitedly called to his dad.  His dad seemed doubtful – “Oh, it’s probably just a chub, right?” he asked his son.
“No, dad, I don’t think so – come look.”

Dad took his time and the kid played the fish, but sure enough Dad pronounced that the kid had caught a nice little brown trout on that first cast.  I thought to myself, so what if it was “just a chub” anyhow?  The kid  hooked and caught a fish on his first cast, for goodness sake.

I tied on an imitation that I had in my fly box, and had several fish strike at it through it’s drift, but no solid hook-ups.  It was fun though – the fact I could fool the fish even if they didn’t completely take is always a good feeling for me.

At the end of one drift, I was just about to lift the line off the water when, “splash,” and fish on.  Nothing big, but still, fiesty – and it turned out to be a smallmouth bass about 6 inches.  That was cool.  The bass was released, and I contined fishing for another half an hour, caught another 2 brown trout, around 8″ both.

Then, the Dad from the Son and Dad team mentioned above decided to wade right into the pool!  He’s standing in water above his knee deep, casting to the rocks in water that’s about ankle deep.   But by that time, the hatch had died off anyway, and I figured it was a good time to go stretch my legs, rehydrate, and pack up.

It was a good afternoon though, even with the distractions.