Fishing the Wood River
Trip Start Aug 01, 2010
5Trip End Sep 01, 2010
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I have not been at all diligent about my blog – but I do not feel guilty. We have been busy; and having fun takes lots of time and energy. Last time, I wrote an entry we were in the Crater Lake area and I was anticipating 2 days of fly fishing. Well, I did it – sort of.
My son and DIL sent me one of those made-to-look-old metal signs for my birthday (photo) which prominently displays “Casting Flies/Telling Lies”. Well I’m not going to do that – but you can decide.
I fished on the Wood River – an absolutely lovely spring fed stream which meanders through the landscape
Large rainbow trout are spectacular fighters when hooked. While brown trout, large ones, run deep and with the power of a tractor away from the fisherman, rainbows are very showy. They jump, dive – and are more likely than not to run at the fisherman – which presents major problems. Successfully landing a fish is highly dependent upon keeping the line tight thereby keeping the fly in the trout’s mouth. What we on the rod end of the game call “fighting” the fish, the fish themselves call trying to “spit the *@%! fly" out.
You will have by now noticed that I have written 4 paragraphs w/o talking about “the catch” – or showing pictures of it. It's a good point. But just a bit more setting up is needed.
Trout fishermen are nutty about “matching the hatch” – which is essentially a lot of hullabaloo about fishing with the right fly pattern to imitate the “natural” insects active on the water
Now, the fishing tail. . . er tale . . . er . . . story. Whatever. I fished using my guide’s flies, A true sportsman, he: the barbs had been filed off of all of the hooks: those little barbs meant to help keep the fly in a jumping, running, diving fish's mouth.
In truth, I did catch and land quite a number of fish. I didn’t count. The largest were in the 18” range. The smallest about 5”. I didn’t photograph them. I was after bigger game.
Over the two days that I fished, I managed to hook 4 or 5 large fish. One was a brown and
his tractor was stronger than my 6 pound breaking strength leader. Fisherman who are cool about these things call this an LDR (“long distance release”)
fish dancing on the water on its tail, diving into the depths of a pool, running at the boat and OOOPs! Fish off! Slack line, no barb on the hook. Bye bye.
After such days on the water, the experienced fly fisherman becomes philosophical:
----- I would have put the fish right back in the water anyway; this way, I didn't endanger his health by exhausting him.
---- Does a guide have a greater responsibility to his client than the fish? If I went back with my own chernobyl hoppers, would I be less of a sportsman were I to leave the barbs alone?
----Would I hire the same guide?
Questions for the ages. Bottom line, no pictures.
PS: On balance, I had a wonderful time.
Gotta go. We are on the coast and we have lighthouses to photograph. They don't fight.