Blue River Fly Classic

Blue River Fly Classic
A One Pattern Fly Event

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Last Chance Drifter

Going to Tishomingo on business today, I knew that this might be my last chance to fish the river Blue for some time. With the Arctic express at our threshold, fishing time is currently of the essence.

I've grown use to my new model of fishing, with that being, in itself, rushed and hurried brief trips. But a brief time on the river is better than no time at all.

At Tishomingo I grabbed a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos and that would serve as my lunch. In a hurried fashion I drove to the river and when I arrived the temperature was twenty-nine degrees. The wind gods were rather quiet today but still breathing just enough, when combined with the temperature, to make an angler uncomfortable. Knowing that I would try and fish in a draw... Seventeen or Glory Hole come to mind.

No man is an island and no man is a river, but as far as I could tell, I was the only soul fishing the mile of downstream water from the crossing when I drove in.

At Seventeen I tied the Olive yellow split tail on again with Zug Bug as the trailer. After six or seven casts and drifts I was sure that Seventeen was unhappy because I hadn't noticed a single wink from this pretty girl.

It didn't take long for the ice to form in the guides but that was okay too because feeling rather lazy today I planned on simply drifting the flies. I decided to fish about two feet further in the mid-pool, and it was there... tickling the belly-button of sweetest Seventeen, she would flinch and show the bows. The bugger drew first victory and would take two more bows in short fashion. The zugger hadn't even had so much of a look but shortly there would be a cast where the bugger would again strike in battle and the zugger would also strike.

It's been quite some time since I captured two bows in one cast. It was fun.

Evidently I didn't mash the barb down good on the Zug because the hook was deeply embedded in the jaw of the bow so I cut the fly off the tippet and let the fish go.

Next, the San Juan Worm was chose and with gloves on I attempted to tie it on but that was futile. Finally the gloves were ripped off and the knot finished. A cast more upstream was made and as the flies passed in front of me the San Juan found a bow.

Two more bows would be battled before I hung a rock and couldn't roll the flies loose so they were lost in the field of battle.

With the gloves off, hands hurting, standing in the river with barren leader... the day was called.

It was a good outing despite the briefness.

On the way back to the work place I drove my Blue's little sister Pennington and she is looking quite well these days.

At 2 p.m. I was back at work shucking onions, trimming corn, but thinking about the river.

Other days will come.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

You chose a time that makes all of us office dwellers a little jealous. Although we sit here comfortable in the heat, a little chill for a small fish would be a pleasant time and a reprieve from the every day. Thanks for that.