I had hardly any opportunities to fish last year. Maybe once or twice sometime in August or September. Rattlesnake and Martha with fair to crappy results.
Anyway, that it had been a while, this morning was a bit chaotic gathering my gear ahead of my fishing partner showing up at 8:30. You know the routine: coffee, breakfast, hope you didn’t forget anything. Yeah, once forgot my waders several years ago.
Friend showed up, loaded gear, off we went.
So we get to the lake. Float tube inflated, tackle in place, rod rigged… Fins? WTF?! Fins!!! What to do? Check online and Cabelas doesn’t have fins in stock. I’m screwed. Maybe put waders on and wade off the boat ramp? Lake level is the highest we’ve seen in over a year. Water gets deep quick not far out.
Friend has already been ready to hit the water by then. I have an idea but afraid to say it. But, when a friend is a good friend, he often can read your mind: “I can tow you out?” Exactly! And the conditions were perfect. Only the slightest breeze present. I get my waders and boots on and drag my float tube in the water.
Over the previous nights, I tied up some flies meant for working the shallows near the banks, but that wouldn’t happen without fins. “Just tow me over the drop off halfway between the launch and the opposite shore.”
I decided to start with the new pattern I had tied up. Lots of intermediate line count downs with no returns for the next hour. Ugh! Time for a new fly: The good ol’ Carey Special.
Slow wind drifting south and then west. Two, three, and one minute count downs. Lots of nothing. Occasional few rises(!?)… More cat’s paw drifting.
Suddenly a strike!
I tell you, you know it’s been a while (too long a while) since you last fished when you spazz the strike and lose the fish on the first jump. And not too bad of a fish, too. LDR’d it.
What did I learn (other than “buck fever”)? I did note how much line was out: 15 to 20 feet of Intermediate line to fly out past the guide tip. Conclusion? Fish are holding shallow. Likely not much more than 5 feet deep. That’s about a 1 minute count down. Good.
Finally I’ve drifted too close to shore. Fishing pal is not far away, so I ask him for another tow back to where I started. He ain’t no spring chicken, been living the retired life for a few years, and his legs aren’t far from a cramp. This is a “slow bell” tow.
So we’re barely chugging along. Like, slug bait slow. I have about 25’ of line out and doing this 1” strip and release in two to three second intervals.
Maybe five minutes into this… Strike! Fish on! And I got this: 14 inches of feisty fighting rainbow brought to hand.
After this, nothing else to show for or talk about other than WDFW officer W. Willette showed up while we were breaking gear down ashore. Such a nice woman. Good to see her making the rounds.
After this episode of forgetfulness, I think I ought to pack separate float tube fins for each of my inflatables. I don’t think I can handle another Foxtrot Mike like this again.
Tight Lines!
—Dave
Anyway, that it had been a while, this morning was a bit chaotic gathering my gear ahead of my fishing partner showing up at 8:30. You know the routine: coffee, breakfast, hope you didn’t forget anything. Yeah, once forgot my waders several years ago.
Friend showed up, loaded gear, off we went.
So we get to the lake. Float tube inflated, tackle in place, rod rigged… Fins? WTF?! Fins!!! What to do? Check online and Cabelas doesn’t have fins in stock. I’m screwed. Maybe put waders on and wade off the boat ramp? Lake level is the highest we’ve seen in over a year. Water gets deep quick not far out.
Friend has already been ready to hit the water by then. I have an idea but afraid to say it. But, when a friend is a good friend, he often can read your mind: “I can tow you out?” Exactly! And the conditions were perfect. Only the slightest breeze present. I get my waders and boots on and drag my float tube in the water.
Over the previous nights, I tied up some flies meant for working the shallows near the banks, but that wouldn’t happen without fins. “Just tow me over the drop off halfway between the launch and the opposite shore.”
I decided to start with the new pattern I had tied up. Lots of intermediate line count downs with no returns for the next hour. Ugh! Time for a new fly: The good ol’ Carey Special.
Slow wind drifting south and then west. Two, three, and one minute count downs. Lots of nothing. Occasional few rises(!?)… More cat’s paw drifting.
Suddenly a strike!
I tell you, you know it’s been a while (too long a while) since you last fished when you spazz the strike and lose the fish on the first jump. And not too bad of a fish, too. LDR’d it.
What did I learn (other than “buck fever”)? I did note how much line was out: 15 to 20 feet of Intermediate line to fly out past the guide tip. Conclusion? Fish are holding shallow. Likely not much more than 5 feet deep. That’s about a 1 minute count down. Good.
Finally I’ve drifted too close to shore. Fishing pal is not far away, so I ask him for another tow back to where I started. He ain’t no spring chicken, been living the retired life for a few years, and his legs aren’t far from a cramp. This is a “slow bell” tow.
So we’re barely chugging along. Like, slug bait slow. I have about 25’ of line out and doing this 1” strip and release in two to three second intervals.
Maybe five minutes into this… Strike! Fish on! And I got this: 14 inches of feisty fighting rainbow brought to hand.
After this, nothing else to show for or talk about other than WDFW officer W. Willette showed up while we were breaking gear down ashore. Such a nice woman. Good to see her making the rounds.
After this episode of forgetfulness, I think I ought to pack separate float tube fins for each of my inflatables. I don’t think I can handle another Foxtrot Mike like this again.
Tight Lines!
—Dave
