Quality time

Most of my outings are day trips, where I plan to go out for several hours on the water. I’ll get up early and may start out by driving a good distance just for the solitude and a slim chance at landing a trophy. I enjoy the drive through the countryside as well as the time on the river, and these days are little escapes from the hustle and grind of daily routines.

But sometimes it is nice just to go to a nearby creek and squeeze in a couple of hours after dinner. On these occasions the mood and approach is very different though; knowing that you only have an hour or two creates a more intense focus on the task at hand. I still say that fly fishing isn’t about catching fish, but if you’re not catching anything then you should probably take up another activity to pass your time.

With this in mind, when my time is limited I try to get right down to business, but contrary to what you might think you don’t push things. Instead, you take a nice easy approach and read the water so you can focus on the most likely areas that will hold a fish.

I had two short outings this week; one planned day that I had to cut short and another evening where I just had the urge to get out and cast a few lines.

I hit the Credit on Sunday hoping for a nice relaxing day. There was another young chap setting up his tackle as I arrived at the river and we set up not too far apart. He was new to the area so I went over a few tips and pointers about the river. Ten minutes later I caught a nice little rainbow using the technique I had described and in another ten minutes I had caught my second. From the look on his face I could see he was a little disappointed that he wasn’t having any success.

Talking to him, I found out he didn’t have the type of fly I was using, so I told him to meet me on the riverbank and I would give him a couple. I turned to make my way across the river and in a second I was sitting on the river bed, facing upstream into the current!

In past posts I’ve described the Credit as a monster of a river due to the current and this day it was living up to that description. However, even though I was getting a nice face wash, I didn’t have any difficulty getting up and wading to the bank and dropping off the flies. Only problem now though is I was completely soaked from the waist up 🤣

The belt on my waders was tightened properly so it kept me dry from the waist down, but I was quite cold regardless, as the morning was cool and there was a noticeable breeze which amplified my chill. In one quick, careless second, my day trip turned into a quick casting session, since I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stay out very much longer.

I put the plan into action; analyze the river, locate the most likely spots, bypassing the marginal areas and concentrating on placing casts in water that had the best chance of holding a quarry, punctuated by a few timely shivers to keep me alert.

Moving upstream I worked the water judiciously and expeditiously, not lingering too long in one spot. Within half an hour I had caught my third fat little fish, just as the young chap moved up to join me. He still hadn’t had any luck, so I gave a little demonstration of the technique I was using, drifting down the current seam and letting the fly sweep at the end of the line to simulate a fly trying to take off from the surface of the water. Once he had picked it up, more or less, I ceded the spot I was in and showed him which of the seams to play.

I didn’t stick around to see how he made out. Hopefully it was helpful, and I know he at least has a couple of effective flies to work with, because I tied them :). When I got in my car, I took off my shirt and turned up the heat, so within a few minutes the chill was gone. I then enjoyed my short trip back home, albeit a little earlier than planned.

Last night right after dinner I took the opportunity to get out again. This time I knew from the beginning that my time was limited to perhaps an hour, not much longer, so I had my game plan in motion when I hit the water.

I worked upstream hitting the most promising riffles and pools, moving quickly and only playing each spot with a few casts before moving on. I began getting hits almost immediately, but they were quick, and it took me about fifteen minutes before I landed my first, a nice little brook trout. I moved upstream, and after few more minutes I landed an even larger brook trout. The markings on this fish were striking, and it reminded me of how much I love these little creatures. They really are a beautiful fish, as fish go. 😉

I worked my way along about one hundred yards of the creek, catching another nice brook and missing several others, when I spotted a nice rise coming from a deep, dark little pool that was partially obscured by an overhanging willow tree. I thought that it would be a nice way to end the evening by landing that riser, so I started working the pool, gradually getting up to and under the overhanging branches.

I had a couple of quick hits, but was unable to set the hook, and I knew I wouldn’t be given many more chances, so I began working the line slowly, keeping the fly just above the surface of the water and gradually advancing by short lengths until I was swinging it under the branches, imitating a fly skimming over the area. Finally I dropped it underneath the tree, where I was sure the fish would be waiting.

Immediately the fly was taken, and I was fast to set the hook. I played it fast and within a couple of minutes I had landed another nice little trout, but as I watched it swim away I knew it wasn’t the one I wanted. The sun, setting behind the trees called time on the night’s activity, and provided a reprieve for either the fish under the willows, or me, or both. I’ll get back to that water. Maybe that fish won’t be there, as it may have its own trips to take and if so, I wish it safe passage. But if it is there, then I intend to meet it.