Saturday, November 17, 2012

Paying attention

.......... then there are times I become so engrossed in the drift, you could walk right up to me and I would be oblivious to your presence.
This was evident towards the end of the other day when Rob and I were out looking for silver.  We had been undecided on what water to drift at first light. Turned out, we (as usual) were still driving as the sky went from black to blue.  Again, the access was empty. The river had some decent flow and the colour, nice. Combined, there were runs set up to hold fish.  Well, except the fish must not have known about them. The river had beaten us early this morning. I paraded my entire selection of patterns, threw down some organics and all I was rewarded with were a few creek chubs. We have always said that the sign of creek chubs meant there is a void of steelhead. We hiked back to the truck.
Still early in the day, it was mid-morning. A few suggested alternatives were thrown around but we both realized that it would be too late to make a day of those spots. Instead, we took a chance for fresh fish and most likely, occupied second water.
Surprised but hopeful. When we arrived, the only two anglers before us were just finishing up. That was the surprise we did not expect. The hope would be at the expense of seeing several very fresh silver brood stocks tugging at the clasp that was holding them back from freedom. There are always another few around after most spots have been fished. As much as I understand those that like to keep a few for table fare, I would think that a more selective harvest would be the sensible thing. It would also be shallow and inconclusive to suggest that perhaps they come from a far distance and do not have the same care and passion I have for the fish that run the systems I grew up on. To my limited knowledge, only the biggest of the systems has a program in place that seems to be receiving incredible results. The rest are subject to natural reproduction, minimal private stocking efforts and straying.
The morning let down had me focusing intently on every seam, bend and change on the surface. I adjusted several times in order to get the set up as right as I could.

With only my good friend nearby, I concentrated deeper with each drift. They were a tad longer than the norm. Ironically the first hit would be closer in and not very far down the edge of the seam in front of me.
Just before me, Rob laid into a duker of a male. I could tell, he was not happy to have been stuck and pulled at.

Twice he came in and as soon as I got close to tail, he took back five to six yards. The cold water temps helped keep him from shredding things up and bolting back to the lake.

                Our fish did not see any clasps or ropes, only the deep safe comforts of the river again.

Monday, November 12, 2012

Thinking back now, we left the city way too early. The fresh brewed coffee was most welcomed. As always, a good talk on the way up, sharing and catching up on what has been going on in our lives. It had made time fly and before we knew it, we had missed a turn. As we got to the river, the popular access already had four vehicles in park and headlamps were bobbing in the dark. Good thing we were just passing by. I am not sure I could have handled such a crowd with at least 30 mins to any bit of light to rise up on the horizon. A few minutes later down a gravel road, I had a tingling feeling that the one vehicle ahead of us was one I knew. Sure enough, Tony was there patiently pacing waiting for his friend. We spent some minutes and a few warming shots of Irish Creme, talking of the day ahead of us. With a wish for luck and safe journey, Brent and I were off, weaving the field to the river.
Colour was nice, flow was decent. My excitement got the best of me. I could not sit long enough in any particular run. I spent some energy carefully tip-toeing along the bank when Brent hollered. Rod tip pointing downward and that classic arc in his rod as it was fully loaded. I was very happy to see him take not only the first fish of the day, but his first for the season.
In trying to pack the morning before leaving, I neglected to check the camera for the SD card. I left it in the laptop. Internal camera memory allowed two pictures at the high pixel rate I had it set to. One is not a proud one and thus will remain buried, possibly deleted. Fish and new reel shot but both are out of the water along the bank. Not how I feel fish should be portrayed.

My wading eventually got the best of me. The new reel went for an honest swim under the surface and for all of the fish hooked, a small bow. Not a smolt but by no means a slab. Hope Ron does not hold this capture against me. I will try to get better quality takes.

Friday, November 9, 2012


A hundred hours at the machine, at least

A handful of lunch meetings

A few drafts and cuts

A very talented artist that was able to transform my vision and wishes in to something that has a part of me in it

I was somewhat speechless when it was finally placed in my hand. I think I took "custom built" to the extreme

RSG Custom Reels