Rich Guys

I love Rich Guys who live upstream from public water.

This Rich Guy bought both sides of a "known" native stream up north. He re-built & greatly expanded the old dam at the pond on the 78' USGS. He stocked it with exotic fish (for this brook - extra large Browns, Bows and even Graylings). The dam was going to be used to power his camp, which was more reminiscent of the ol' Faithful Inn, than any cabin built to date in this area.

Well either the dam was not powerful enough, or it got blown out for some other reason (he did not like the color?). In any case when a dam gets blow out, fish tend to wander and in this case they wandered down into the public water below.

I found myself in a place where 10" natives are a rare find and more likely you work your way up stream fishing 6-7" natives that are both colorful and eager but not enough to break even the lightest of tippets. I tied on a #12 simulator vs. the usual #16 (or 18) humpy for this water and hit the pockets. Up here there are few pockets larger than a bath tub and only one which could be called a pool. You can't imagine the fun hauling out 18-19"+ fish from 2' pockets. These would be considered "good fish" you would be lucky to find on the lower river below.

After a comical series of hits including the trifecta (one of each - a Brookie, a Bow and a Brown), I came to one long pocket along a viscous micro chasm and knew right away that magic lay in there. The trick was to hit the lip of the feed just below the cascade w/o falling in or getting knocked over by the force of the water. Well i did both and struck one of the best browns i will ever see. Unfortunately i do not plan ahead (normally) and in this case there was really no way to plan for this fish, so once hooked i figured to "just real him in". Life seldom works that way and i had not considered the difficulty of playing a fish like this in such small water (she was never meant to be in this brook).

After some careful play the fish rocket "launched" up and over me (I am 6' tall) and down stream to the pool below. What ever solid footing i may have had was quickly lost, mostly from shock at the sight of this great brown careening over head (i know, i did not think browns jumped either). We both precipitated down a viscous stretch of rocks and landed in the great pool by the road. Once there I swear we just kind of looked at each other in disbelief but genuinely happy to be unhurt let alone alive. I taped her out to 22", slipped out the hook and guided her gently back into the water, knowing that i would never see a fish like this one in such small brook again.

Ahhh Good times, good times.

B is for Bucket Mouth

They are the most popular game fish in the USA but i rarely fish for them। Not because i am above it or they are not worthy sport. They certainly present some of the finest early season & summer sport around. It is not because i live in the north and they do not reach the epic proportions of the south, and not because i catch my full when fishing for other fish.

In the early spring i get my smallest bead head and a relatively light 3 wt i circle ponds and lakes & i proceed to go sight fishing. Usually i know where the reds are and upon finding a suitable one sneak up and commence to bounce the bead off the head of my advisory. After a fews bops they strike and although you have technically caught them, the fun begins b/c you can't really land an unwilling 5 or 7 lb fish on a 3 wt. He can just back paddle and you could not real him on 2 lb test line. Often the masters of their domain will seek out a an underwater obstacle wrap you around a few times and break you off.

I then gently walk away so as to not disturb the balance of the nest guarding process.

After the eggs hatch the fry are driven into the shallows at the NE tip of the swell. During the day they are relatively unmolested but at night you can hear the woooosch into water 1"-3" deep and as often the sounds of a aqua creature scampering back to his domain from ours with all the associated flaps and slaps.

A is for Adventure

When my daughter was young we would walk in the woods on journeys major & minor (mostly minor). She would always find a leaf or stone which would stop the Bataan Death March and allow her the joy to explore the wonder of the infinite of the wild world.

One time while circling a small reservoir we came upon a a 4 or 5" mound on the edge of the shore which she immediately recognized as an Island. Being God she proceeded to take joy in the creation of life and its development. Over the next few minutes (hours, days?) we added to the land mass until it was a full 8" across. Satisfied we moved on & never never revisited the world she had created and it was good...