A Fishing Tale |
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Hal is a long time angling friend and client. We probably average twenty fishing days a year, for the past decade. You know, when you fish that long you are going to see some things out of the ordinary, that can only be classified as a Fishing Tale. But this one is true. I know, I was there. The experience started out as simply another day on the river. It was an August morning on the North Fork of the Stillaguamish. The water was low and clear. The summer steelhead were suspended in the Hazel pool. They do this as an avoidance factor, from dodging bottom dredging sinking lines, for the past two months. All the stupid or aggressive fish have been since culled out of the ranks. All that is left is what I call P.H.D.fish, because these are the steelhead that have been there, seen that, and bought the tee shirt. These are they that have been, fished on, snagged on, and baited on. The shadow of a swallow flying over head puts them on alert. You get the picture. Now I am not saying these fish cannot be taken, but you have to be able to show them something different, to get a fish to move to the fly, and believe me, they have seen a lot! So there we were, standing on the riprap bank. I was trying to convince Hal that the # 12 olive nymph on a 15’ leader tapered to a 4 pound tippet, was the ticket for taking these snooty fish. Hal couldn’t step downstream on that high bank, to cover new fish. All he could do was roll cast out, and pull more line off his reel. I was perched higher up above him. I couldn’t see the fly as it passed in front of the fish, but I could keep track of the steelhead, and how they were reacting to fly. There looked to be about a dozen steelhead of various sizes, suspended in the pool. So Hal begins laying his line out and on about his third cast, the line just stops in mid swing. He lifts gently to protect the light tippet. Probably the largest steelhead of the group, backs off shaking his head. Two things became immediately apparent. A) The fish was fair hooked, that was good. B) I was hoping for one of those six to nine pound fish to take the fly. This leviathan I estimated at sixteen pounds was way over classed for Hal’s tippet. This fight wouldn’t last long. It didn’t. A couple big head shakes and the big buck just turned and shot out to the lower end of the pool. Hal’s reels squealed for a moment, more like a chirp. His line fell slack. Hal is feeling like he is swinging at elephants with a flyswatter. He has too much class to say so. All he says is, "Well, I guess the technique works." I know what he is really thinking and I say, " Well, you didn’t have to hook the biggest dang fish in the pool!" We both laughed. The fish settle down and Hal repairs his fly and leader. We get to talking while Hal fishes his little nymph down through the pool, letting out a little more line each cast. After a while I figured his little green fly was just about to the end of the pool. His line comes up tight. As he lifted into the fish, I yelled from my vantage point, "Dang Hal, you hooked another really big fish!" Sure enough, Hal was attached to probably the only other big Steelhead in the pool. And the outcome was just about the same. The fish took off and the line goes limp. Hal doesn’t say much as he reels in, and I am not going to tell him how a lady client of mine landed one here, just the day before. I grabbed my gear and straighten up. I was about to suggest another pool, when I noticed Hal starring at his line. "You better come see this." He says quietly. I climbed down next to him and he held out his fist. When he opened his hand, his fly was still attached to the leader. And impaled on the fly,................was the other little green nymph.
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Dennis Dickson Fly Fishing
Steelhead Guide dddicksons@aol.com |