This past Friday my fishing partner and I scheduled a day off from work with not much in mind but daylight to dark fishing...and that's just about what we accomplished.
The day started off like most any fishing day, left the house to meet up around 5:45am and then rode up in one truck. We had this ridiculous idea of fishing a particular section of one of our favorite streams long enough to take two trucks, one parked at beginning and end. Luckily, after sleeping on the notion, we both found out the other had the same thought that this probably could not be done in one day of fishing. It would have been about 3 miles of water, not to mention the hike in and out.
I'm no Indian track reader, but after a night of heavy fog and dew I can tell a fresh truck track in the forest road on the way up. Much to our dismay and surprise a truck was parked at the trailhead we had chosen. We decided to do the usual and peer into the truck to see if it looked like a fisherman or a hiker. This area attracks hikers 10 to 1 over fisherman. My buddy was two inches from the window looking for fishing gear and this man pops up from the back of the double cab dodge. After a few minutes he finally opened the window and we explained what was up. Good thing he was friendly. Anyhow, we learned he was a solo hiker and we would be rewarded for our very early arrival. It was funny though to see the look on his face to be awakened by two very ugly fly fisherman. We also disappointed him as we didn't have a hot bacon, egg and cheese biscuit in the truck.
After the quick intro to the anonymous hiker, we changed shoes, grabed the necessary and off we went. It's rare I get a full day to fish, I usually do the half day thing or even shorter. So, I went with the old backpack that's carried everything from college books to deer pee. I packed only the most necessary gear, leaders, tippett and one box of flies...then plenty of food and water. I despise getting hungry or thirsty while fishing. I can't relax if this happens so I take extra whenever possible.
Once we hit the water we did the usual hopscotch approach. This works well and leaves every likely spot fished. It wasn't long and I was into a nice rainbow that went MAD on my yellow stimi size 10. I actually didn't look too hard for the hatch as I'm very confident in a few different flies this time of year. I learned quick the fish that were gonna hit were gonna hit HARD. Some of the strikes were off the chart and out of the water. At first we were missing more than we landed as it always takes me a minute or three to shake out the anixety and slow things down. Then, we stuck most every fish with near 'bout professionalism. I was quite impressed with our showdown this day.
As the trip progressed we couldn't help but notice the blasted uncanny ability these fish have at spotting us at up to 20+ feet away as we approached. We finally decided to waste little time on the long slow stretches because we had all day and the effort to not spook these runs wasn't worth the return. We had an unlimited amount of stream to cover and all day to do so. As I finally approached one of my favorite pools I was more than ready to sneak into position and giver her a roll. But, guess stinkin' what happened!?!? I got sickly hungup on the second attempt. I was more than let down as I just retied and refused to break off to the devil laurel. I kindly moved aside and let my partner have at it. The biggun' we know lives there didn't make an apperance but for the first time in our careers two fish were landed at once. A nice fat rainbow went for the dry as another much smaller cousin followed closely for the nymph. A recommended a slight slowdown in the retrive and WHAMMY, two fish on at once. What a gift from this favorite hole.
As the day wore on we finally approached another huge pool that gives us fits and usually leaves us empty handed. There isn't an easy way to approach this hole and not give up a big ugly shadow. I easily crept over a boulder to take a look see and noticed a nice 12 incher up near the surface feeding like a starving kid at the KFC buffet. My partner offered me the chance at him and I quickly accepted. But, as luck would have it here comes a hiker and two gigantic dogs. Needless to say the hyper hiker needed directions and that fish was gone quicker than he appeared.
We decided at this point to just stop for lunch and check the time. We had been on the water about 4-5 hours and landed numerous fish but we weren't done yet. From here forward was a new stretch of water for both of us. We had fished other sections on numerous occassions but not this particular one. The fishing for the next couple of hours was nothing short of epic. The rainbows came out in force and abundance ever better than the early morning. We had finally gotten our ninja skills down to a clumsy science and could throw any fly in the box for an offering and they would take as if it were their last meal...just as long as we weren't sloppy of course. No slapping of the water was permitted. We had now located our new second favorite hole that produced 6 healthy fish.
One small item of note, and part of my blog entry title, are the tons of crawdads this stream plays host. (many people calls these boogers "crawfish", but here in the south they are crawdads) This is where another first was revealed when a very hungry fresh water lobster decided to take on a flashy nymph. He was saddened when he realized the bead head was only for looks and not some sort of shiny cherry topping.
The total count was lost at somewhere around 25. No real piggies on this day, but what we gave up in quality was returned in quantity. The last few hours did seem to drain on us as the fishing tapered off a great deal, but no way we could forget the past 7 hours of endless strikes. When we finally ended the day we lucked up and located a quicker trail back to the road...when we got to the top we blaimed each other for not bringing that second truck. The 2 mile hike back down wasn't very pleasent in soggy shorts...
Man, trying to wrap words around the worst two days of fishing I've had all year. Wifey and son went out of town so I had two days of nothing else to do but fish...and work a little. Sunday we hit a new brookie stream, stream way low, fish way spooky, and way picky. Did manage a few brookies and a small brownie. Hopped out of that stream and went to an old faithful...still the fish are denying me like a chess geek chasing the prom queen. Still, landed a few. 
