Sun, 10 Jun 2007
A Newbie’s Journey towards becoming a fly fisherman
After a full day of work I stopped off at Fly Fishing Specialties to see what they had for waders and wading boots. I brought in some printouts of waders I had found online to see if they had something similar. They carried Simms products and their waders were both more expensive, and better quality than what I was looking at. As I’m talking to the salesman, Dennis, another sales guy comes over and ask me "how tall are you?"
"About 6’2" " I said
"I’m 6’3 275 and I wear XXL. That might be a little bit big but it could fit you. I’ve got one pair of Simms waders that’s the 2006 model. They list at $230 but I can let you have it for $150".
So we tried them on and other than being a bit big in the chest they fit just fine. I could kneel and get back up without any restrictions and they felt good. So I got a nice set of Simms Gore Tex waders for $150.
The next step was boots. I ended up going with Simms lace up boots with felt bottoms for $70. I like the high ankle boots because I always hike into the river and I wanted ankle support. To that I added some gravel guards and they tossed in a web wading belt for free with the advice of "Don’t ever go in the water without this belt on."
I packed up my new gear and headed back up into the hills to my house. I cut the tags off of my new waders and boots and grabbed my rod and vest and headed out to my favorite deep pool on the Bear River.
Newbie Lesson: Even when I’m wearing jeans that water is cold. Next time I’m wearing fleece over my legs. Breathable waders are lightweight, but you sure do feel the cold.
I wasn’t seeing as many fish rising Friday night. But I knew from past trips where they would be. So I rigged up, waded in at the downstream end of the pool and started fishing.
Boy oh boy, it’s a totally different experience fishing from out in the water as opposed to fishing from the bank. The view of the river changes everything. I can see the bottom of the river and where the pockets between the boulders are (although I stayed in the gravel where I could wade safely). I could see a wide angle view of the whole pool and I could adjust my cast to try different spots. But most importantly, I could see the bugs on the water. For the first time I could actually see the little May flies floating down the river. Now that I can see them with their upward curled tail and their pale wings standing almost straight up I can see that I’m tying my flies way too big and too heavy. My flies look like monsters compared to the ones that I buy. Now that I’ve seen the actual bugs I can see why the smaller flies work better.
I start fanning my cast across the water. I try a section a few times, move across and try another spot, move across again until I’ve covered that slice of river. Then walk up river a bit and start again. I’m quite sure that my sloppy cast are spooking the fish because the rises that I saw earlier have stopped entirely. But hey! If nothing else I’m getting my first real practice of in the water casting. As I’m working the pool a mother duck and her two babies kept swimming up and down the pool. Every now and then one of the babies grabs a May fly off of the surface. I’m reminded of a comment I read on FAOL : "I just enjoy being in the places where trout are."
I decide to get out of the water and walk back downstream and do another lap. Also, my leader has a massive wind knot in it so I just cut it off and retie. As long as I’m doing a new leader I check my fly box for something of roughly the same size and color of those mayflies. Some of the parachute Adams I just bought at are a bit lighter in color. Let’s try that one.
This time I really worked on laying the fly down softly without slapping the water with the fly line. The fish are rising again so they must not be spooked any more. That’s a good sign. In fact, on one cast one of the baby ducks started swimming for my fly thinking it was food.
"Not for you buddy" I said as I picked the line up and moved it across the pool.
At the upper end of the pool just below a small waterfall the fish were really rising. So I carefully waded up a bit further being very careful not only to lay the fly down softly but also to pick up the line without "zipping" the water. There are so many things to remember. "Keepeth thy back cast up!" kept going through my mind. "Keep those loops tight but don’t splash the line when you present the fly". I’m not even sure what I was doing differently, but there’s something subtle about laying the line down softly that makes the leader just turn over and lay that fly on the water with hardly a plop. When it works, it just feels different. Just keep trying to repeat whatever made that cast feel different. The experience is moving from thinking about a thousand things at once to a Zen like state where I’m completely casting by feel. When it works, it feels right. Keep making it feel right. Don’t think, just do.
A fish splashed about 20 feet away upstream and to my right. I just kept placing my fly upstream from him and letting it drift into his feeding zone. On the 3rd cast I thought I saw my fly go under so I hit it.
Time slowed down… and then stopped.
For what couldn’t have been more than half a second I thought I had somehow caught my fly on a branch, I pulled and it was like being hooked on a log. Nothing moved. Then, instead of a solid log the rod went "wiggle wiggle wiggle wiggle" as the fish ran with my hook in it’s mouth.
"I’ve Got Him! I’ve Got Him! YEAH! I’ve Got Him!" I shout to nobody in particular. Maybe the ducks.
At that moment it comes to me that I really don’t know what to do here. I’ve never had a fish on with a fly rod. I’ve got slack on the water from stripping line during my drift and I’m just holding the tight line between me and the fish against the rod with my right hand. So I start stripping in line trying to land him. It feels like the 6x leader is holding just fine so I try to work him in closer to me. I’m pulling in the line and keeping the rod up. It’s so exciting that it feels like the whole world is a blur and I’m just running on instinct. This is unbeleivably cool … when the line goes slack.
The entire event probably didn’t last more than 10 seconds. I find myself standing there in the water with my mouth hanging open thinking "Oh my gosh, I did it. It actually worked. I hooked a fish"
Thinking that my tippet must have broken I reel in the line to see a tangle right at the fly. I was able to get it cleared and I start casting again. In about 3 cast he hits it again! But this time he shakes it off almost immediately.
My adrenaline is pumping and I keep working that part of the pool. I see the fish rise on either side of my fly but not hitting it. But at least I’m not spooking them. Then I make a disastrous cast that throws a huge wind knot in my leader as I pull it in I see that it’s a total bird’s nest. I’d be better off cutting the leader off and just re-tying it. But by this time it’s getting so dark that I’d have to do it by flash light. I look back at the pool and decide that hooking 2 fish is a nice next step in my journey.
The path to becoming a fly fisherman continues. I’ve progressed from spooking fish and losing flies in the trees, to keeping my fly in the water, to getting a fish to look at my fly. And now a fish actually took my fly. The next step is to learn how to land them. Every trip to the river is another step along that path and I feel progress each time I go out.
My gosh! The rush of feeling a fish on the other end of that line is amazing.
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