Granlibakken

Put in some work this last Monday in the upper reaches of the big T. Found some fish, but that was after pounding the water with a nymph rig for a couple hours por nada. The golden ticket was a tiny black woolly bugger, slow stripped... just the way the fish like it... with a 15 ft type 6 sink tip in that not-so-fast (but not slow) water.

I found the bottom a few times but I have a feeling the fly was about a foot or two under the film most of the time. All brown trout in the 12-14" range. Water was pretty stained in the afternoon so I think the black fly helped it stand-out better.

Not my favorite conditions on the T, but I still managed a few and had fun doing it. Lost my Kanteen though... third one this year... You'd think it would make a distinctive klink noise or something when it falls out and hits the ground... but I guess not. Another donation to the Truckee river gods. I guess it's only fair since I found that Kanteen on the same river a few years back. The lord giveth and taketh away.

Back to Pollywood this weekend... maybe the MET will be open?

It's the Meat in the Seat

Been a while, but I haven't really had a lot of chances to pick up the fly rod lately, and when I do, it's pissing rain. With weather still on the radar, the trout fishing will have to wait another week two (or three)... and when is enough, enough? I mean really... I'm sorry for all the bad-mouthing the past few years about the lack of Spring... but we're good on water here in the state. We were good like two months ago. I'm okay with the cool temps, but the constant precip is really starting to bug.

I should point out right away that this report lacks any fishing with a fly rod: I still consider myself to be a bit of a methodologist when it comes to fishing. I'm coming to the conclusion that it's not rod in the hand that gives one method a bad name, but the meat in the seat...

Squeaked a few Friday afternoons out on Folsom, but the fishing has been pretty crappy. A fish here and there but nothing consistent. So far this year, mostly just a waste of boat gas. Doesn't help when the lake is overrun by a fleet of giant wakeboard boats either. There should be a noise ordinance on that lake. I understand that you've got this crazy expensive boat with a 20 ba-zillion watt sound system... but you've gotta understand that not everybody likes lady gaga, and there really aren't many walls out on the lake to block that noise. Also, I hope you were playing that for your girlfriend, cause if you weren't, your man card just got revoked.

Anyway... after a few less-than-worth it trips to Folsom we decided to reroute the chart to Oroville this last Saturday. We heard the bite was turning on and the hope was that the weather would scare off all the lice on the water, and it turned out to be a sure thing. The lake was empty except for the die hard house boaters and bass fisherman. Weather was great at 8am when we put in, but it didn't take long for the cloud cover to roll in. No rain yet, just a little brisk when the wind was blowing. Didn't matter though because the bite was en fuego! First cast and Mike hooks up.

Four or five casts later, we've both got 3 fish to the boat... and so on and so forth...


We fished a lot of cover in the Middle Fork to start and did well on the open water, but the bite was definitely not as strong in the coves and protected areas. After an hour or so of fishing protected water (it was a little nicer because the wind was blowing pretty good on the open water) we moved back out into the wind and immediately found fish. Three or four times I landed three fish on back to back casts. nothing real big, but a lot feisty spots that pulled hard. I even broke one off! It goes without saying (or seeing...) that it was clearly the fish of the day too. Fish were everywhere, but the greatest concentrations were on the rocky ledges out in the open water.

The fishing was so good that we couldn't leave even when the rain started pouring and the wind howled. The weather just kept the bite going. We left before 6 with wet feet and well over 60 fish to the boat. Might have to make a trip back next weekend.

Kiss My A

A-merican river that is.


Combat fishing sucks.

So Close to Hell You Can See Sparks.

One day in the silver state was all I needed. Not much of a WESTERN sierra report, but who cares: It's winter and all my favorite waters are either stuffed with chowder heads or flowin' higher than grandpa's pants. Beggars can't be choosers. Besides, that stretch of the river is a lot prettier (and more productive) than people think.

The likelihood of getting shanked goes up exponentially the closer you are to the city, but if you stay just outta town, you're good.

Here are a couple of fish faces from the day:

Had to chase this one down the river right past the impromptu toilet under the walking bridge.

My PSA for the day is: watch where you step... even river water can't wash some things off.

Hadn't been back down in the valley since the OCC tournament last October (which was an awesome 4th place finish for team master baetis). Speaking of master baetis, she claimed several more victims this last weekend and is proving to be a pretty much year-round Truckee river fly. Does well all year in pretty much any size: http://flytyingcontest.com/2010/03/31/master-baetis/

"You're from Oregon, eh?...."

This is the comeback report I needed last post... Was on the Kalama and the E. Fork Lewis this past weekend slaying the steel like a union worker!

Flew into Portland and hooked-up with my brother-in-law (aka dirty Samchez) for a quick weekend shot at some Washington waters that I've never fished before. Generally speaking, (no offense Samchez) I never expect to hook anything when I'm fishing with my brother-in-law. Never was there a man with worse fishing juju. I could net thirty fish on Friday, and when Sam shows up on Saturday, we won't touch a fish for two days... sorry man... but it's true.

HOWEVER... that changed this last weekend...

We showed up on the Kalama before day break with no cars in the pull-out. Rigged up and went bank-side and right away spotted some squishy salmon working about three feet off the bank. I'm not sure, but I think we also saw a monster summer steelhead mixed in there with the salmon, but it was gone before I could get the line in the water. Water color was perfect and the flows were juuuuust right. We started drifting some egg patterns behind the working salmon no more than 4 ft off the bank and within the first 20 minutes or so I'm hooked up with a hot pissed off fish, probably pushing 10+ lbs.

That fish bolted for the other bank and before I could get it on the reel, my 2x tippet said, "snap!" Rookie move for sure. Fighting a huge steelhead on a single-hander with 25 yards of line at your feet is not what I'm used to.... By then a couple of gear guys had crept in just below me and were starting to do work. Nice guys, but they had it all wrong. They were bombing 50-70 foot casts out into the middle of the run. I said, "I hooked that fish right off the bank," and the guy goes, "I think they're more our in the middle of the run..." A new rig and 10 casts later, I'm hooked-up again with another fish no more than 4 ft off the bank... guy should've listened..

It hurts me to say it again, but that fish broke me off as well. At least I had it almost to hand before it broke off this time... What hurts even more?... I broke two more fish off before I finally got the smallest fish of the day to hand... but that's how it goes when you're a protard like myself.

Sam.... we need to have another talk about your camera skills...

By noon Sam and I had hooked a combined 8 fish out of the same water, which was causing a little bit of a commotion with the gear guys. Pretty soon they started to surround us, bombing plugs and bobbers over our heads right into our water... I almost shanked one dude when he threw his shit right over my flyline and just let it drift. I mean... really? How about I haul a cast right into your face on accident...

We bailed right after that and then fished some other sections of the river for nada. Near the end of the day we decided to come back to the same hole we started at to see if we could get a happy ending, but the place was crawling with gear guys when we got there. We figured the day was good enough so we just cracked a few beers and watched the sketchy locals toss plugs for about an hour.

Just before the sun started to go down people started to bail, so we swept in for a few last casts, and right in between four gear guys not catching shit, and three gear guys talking trash to us "fly guys," Sam pricks a chrome-bright steelhead and everybody shuts up all at once... pretty good feeling...

"You're from Oregon, eh?... Ever though about going back?..." the dude says to Sam... and that's when we left.

Banner day, but would've been better if I could've touched all the fish I broke off... if it's only about the fight, then I got what I was looking for.

Handy work from the locals...