David was taking the last bite of his Scotty Burger when I approached the table and asked if he'd tossed the trout yet? He told me no and that it'd be several hours later this same afternoon which told me my timing was a little off as far as watching the stocking. I do love to watch the bows go in the river.
Today was my second attempt at my new plan of being able to spend time at Blue by manipulating my work schedule. On Tuesdays I can end my day at the Tishomingo store around the noon hour and also I can elect to make Tuesday a half-day...which I hereby announce I elect to do until further notice.
After talking to David, Scotty and I had some business things to tend to regarding his website. Scotty gave me some information from the Oklahoma Tourism Department regarding his site and I told him I'd take care of it once I got back to the bunkhouse today.
While in Scotty's I decided to have a look around to see how well he was stocked for the upcoming Derby this weekend. To me, it looked like Scotty had a small fortune in Power Bait for the bait anglers and spinners for the spin fishermen. The store was quite well prepared for this weekend's onslaught of trout aficionado's.
I also checked the most important department, at least to me, at Scotty's store which was the adult beverage section. It looked in pretty good shape too but I did remind Scotty to order a little extra...you know...just in case.
The river was absolutely beautiful today with crystal clear water in some of the more shallow stretches. The sun kept playing a game of peek-a-boo shining brightly for awhile then hiding behind some of the lofty, billowy, cradling-like breasts of a caring mother clouds. Just being at the river today was nurturing.
Around 1 o'clock I stepped in the river at the near side of Seventeen and today I really didn't expect much action. The last stocking was last Thursday and it was my understanding that with that stocking there were some loss of bows. Also, the river was quite pressured this past weekend which for sure thinned the numbers, so today I was just hoping for a glimpse of a bow.
With the same pattern I've used for the last four outings...the olive/yellow split-tail bugger, I flung that offering into the lower end of Seventeen. I had spotted the sweetest of pockets and using a mend, drift, high-stick presentation I met four bows in a matter of minutes.
After bow number four I cast a little upstream and hung my bugger on a rock. Determined not to loose that wonderfully, delightful, producing fly, I waded through my own fishing water which is not a smart thing to do but non-the-less the dirty deed was done. Retrieving my fly and finding myself in the middle of the river I decided to fish another mouth-watering pocket in front of me. Here, I would meet two more bows.
Since the water at Seventeen was crystal I decided to wade back to the bank and then wade up to the boulder upstream. Today was the first chance I have had this season to fish off the boulder.
If there were any bows around the boulder area they certainly wouldn't have won any congeniality awards today because they didn't give me so much as a howdy-do.
I bid those boulder bows, or lack of, farewell and stumbled back down to Seventeen but this time I was on the far side. It was time to do some swings through the lower end and this presentation brought two more bows for a total of eight. I was done.
I guess I could have stayed longer on Blue today...I was done by 2:30 p.m. but as it is with most things we do...moderation is key and this has become quite apparent to me in capturing bows.
And I might add, I seem to be very good at the moderation end of it these days.
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