It seems that just yesterday we had temperatures in the single digits (I'm not sure if the temps ever got that low but I know for sure we made it into the teens) but here we are now in the 70s and the bass are moving into the shallows and they are aggressive. Hit a couple of local spots and found bass that were willing to hit the big fly. just about all the fish hung on the edge of the drop offs. Most of the takes were on the pause as the fly dropped or on the initial cast as the fly sank to the right depth. The fly has a slow sink and almost suspends. On the cast I would count down 4-5 seconds and long slow strip...pause...long slow strip. Many times on the initial strip it would just come tight.
I have heard so much about the California Delta and everything that I have heard is true. The air was filled with the calls of swans, sandhill cranes, snow and canadian geese. Around every bend in the Delta was a new and completely different body of water. Though the conditions were less than favorable the striper still showed up and gave us some exitement.
The Winter trout addiction is sort of a voluntary beat down. The feet freeze and the fingers go numb until the line goes tight but the river is void of other fishermen and the trout are active. Winter trout were calling and Phil and I answered the call. Broken Bow, Oklahoma was just 3.5 hours away. We fished 1.5 days. The first .5 was more of a scouting mission and a reintroduction to a river I used to fish rather regularly. It was good to see trout again and even better to see them rising to dries. Well after the sun went down and we had both landed a few trout we called it quits and set up camp.
The morning came quickly and we woke to frozen boots and waders and a herd of deer that didn't like our camp intruding on their forest. As soon as the ice was broken from the boots and waders, and we were able to get our feet in them ,we hit the water. Started the day throwing wooly buggers and swinging them through the tailouts. This was deadly. The fish couldn't stand the swing and I would have continued to fish this way but I lost my only two boogers. One to a super sloppy backcast, the other to a nice fish that headed downstream much faster then I could. I was then forced to remember how to nymph. After casting to the same fish for 15 minutes, and probably as many fly changes, the fish ate a size18 pheasant tail. This produced a few more fish before we high tailed it to zone two.
We arrived at zone two to the slow water and fish rising, dimpling the water. I had talked to other fly fishermen that were just leaving zone two and they mentioned swinging soft hackles. To keep with the theme of the trip I tried this and gained confidence in the technique when my first 5 casts were met with trout. This continued until the sun started to set and the fear of not being able to see where I was wading set in. It was a long drive home but a very successful trip. Thank you fellow fly fishers for the technique.
Denison Dam has been generating between 10am and 5pm. Found good numbers of small fish hanging on the edge of the currrent. If you could mimic the final few kicks of an injured shad drifting down river then a strike was almost guaranteed. I don't think I once had a hit on the swing. There was one monster hit which broke me off immediately and quickly became a 10-15lbs fish (but I'm pretty sure he wasn't worth the cost of a Paul Miller fly). That fly had some crazy natural movement and looked sexy as could be but it is hard for me to justify such cost per fly for anything other then a fish of over 20lbs. Phil has again continued his reign of terror on buffalo. His cousin's son assisted in the landing of the fish. The kid makes one good net.
Shrimp farms. Every place we went had guards armed with shotguns.
Dinner was perfect every night.
Cam Sigler flies
After years of talking about it we decided to pull the trigger and try our hand at sailfish on the fly. We stayed at Sailfish bay lodge and were greated by the friendliest staff that did everything they could do to make us feel at home. The fishing was unusually slow. The first day we raised one sailfish that turned jet black as it attacked Phil's Cam Sigler fly. The strike was head on, which is nearly impossible to get a good hook set on billfish, and the hooks missed their mark twice before the fish vanished off into the blue. The second day I was up to bat and didn't raise a fish. The last day I was up to bat again at least until I had a fish strike the fly. early on we raised a blue marlin that swam under the teasers forever and never showed any interest in the fly but inhaled a bonito thrown to it. Unfortunately the hook broke and never set on the fish. We had a quick visit by another sail on the inside teaser that vanished as quickly as it showed. Phil and I decided that we would switch after lunch and he would try his luck the remainder of the day. As lunch was being cooked a Blue Marlin crashed the teasers. In slow motion my fly hit the water, I popped it and moved my rod tip from side to side and held the most retarded pose as the marlin inhaled the fly. The hook set perfectly in the side of the mouth and the fish tailwalked and porpoised for 100yards before the reel fight began. The fish sounded and I began the longest tug of war of my life. 2..5hrs. Line was gained and line was lost and the same 80ft of flyline was fought over for an hour. The shooting head finally appeared, then the fish glowing electric blue. The deckhand had me back off the rail as he began guiding the line and the fish up. The leader and the yellow line appeared and the deckhand and captain and Phil all cheered and as quickly as it began, it was over and the Blue Marlin swam off. I was left with cramping arms, a sweat soaked shirt and the biggest smile I've ever had on my face. The crew estimated the Blue at 300lbs.
