Chapter 58 Day 47 - Trout Season

The Duke Of Marabou Brown

This morning, still not knowing exactly how clear some parts of the river was, I sit down at the tying vise and churned out a couple of brown buggers.  I like brown in off-colored water. 

Everything stowed in the schooner I shove off at around 9:30 this morning and take my time in getting to the river.  Back roads are in order today and even a couple of stops to take some pictures including one of a coyote. 

The coyote seems like a lonely creature.  As to why, I do not know.  I do know farmers and ranchers care not for the coyote.  I like them though - figure they're just struggling through life like so much of our wildlife does. 

Upon arriving at the river, it's easy to see the river is clearing quickly, but, this is mainly in the shallow runs.  Today I wanted to fish the deeper pools and in the wide, deeper stretches there was still some problems with clarity. 

Seeing the foggy conditions of Ted's Pool, the brown bugger goes on the tippet and with a cast he sails through the air.  Almost as soon as he lands a bow takes a fancy to the bug and the first trout comes to hand. 

Within ten minutes I know it's going to be a good day on the water. 

Within thirty minutes, I realize it may be one of those rare days - the kind of day that doesn't come around as often as it once did for this fly fisher.  The kind of day you'll end with triple digits, flirting with fifty fish or so. 

The bows couldn't seem to get enough of the brown bug.  Many of the strikes were so subtle these old reflexes didn't work well and half as many fish were missed as were caught. 

The bugger kept taking the hits and soon one bow delivered a debilitating blow as the bugger came unravelled. 

The bugger is retired from the field of battle and another brown bugger, similar in size, is selected.  The second bugger is different with it's dubbed marabou body and coined as the Duke of Marabou Brown.  A fitting name it would seem because this bugger, the second one, is even more favorable to the trout.

The onslaught continues.  A few short minutes later, the cup of coffee consumed on the trail down seems to hit bottom and it's time to head for the bank and take care of that business.  While there, I decide to go on downstream instead of just wearing-out this particular fishing hole. 

Next stop is Glory Hole and here I decide to tie on a red San Juan to the butt of the Duke of Marabou Brown.  The worm is to see if these trout are just really active or they simply like the color brown in off-colored water.  The duo are sent sailing, but, it isn't long until the worm is retired, receiving no action at all.  The worm cannot compete with the popularity of the brown bugger. 

The first three casts at Glory Hole are straight upstream at a distance of twenty-five feet.  Only one tiny strike is the result.  Then, I remind myself to always fish the water directly in front or to the sides and with an eight foot cast to my right, the bugger finds an additional plethora of trout.

Again, not wanting to wear the fishing hole out, I move once more and it's downstream to Seventeen.  Poor little Seventeen is still not fishing well and hasn't been for several years now.  What the problem is, I have no idea.  But, the trout seem to have forsaken this sweet little shallow. 

Moving upstream to the boulder above Seventeen, more trout are found.  Off the boulder is a felled seaside alder.  The branches of this tree penetrate the soup and two trout are taken off of that tree.  Pushing my luck I keep casting a few feet to the left of the down tree and I gamble one time to many.  One of the submerged limbs grabs the Duke of Marabou Brown and he gives his life at sea.

Going to the fly box, I find a brown bugger pattern Chuck Kaminski gave to me years ago.  Chuck's pattern is the same color brown I'd been using, but, he added a little flash in the tail.  This bugger goes on and the trout begin their jousting once again. 

It's now almost 1 o'clock and I've been in the river for about three hours.  The back is nagging and it's time for me to go. 

I did not have a fifty fish day in the time I was there, but, I was just a few fish short of forty.  That's a good morning for this fly fisher. 

Stopping at Scotty's, a Gloria burger and Coors Light to go is ordered. 

The weather was absolutely beautiful today... as was the fishing.  

Chapter 58 Day 37 - Trout Season

Garage Sale Flies Continued

Going through the stash of garage/estate sale flies tonight I came across these pretties.  This time I knew right away what the name of this pattern was. 

So, here we go.

What is the name of this fly?  (Hint - Starts with a "M" and is a feminine name).

Will this fly catch Blue River trout?  Oh yeah... or at least it has before. 

How to fish this pattern?  Always trailed it behind a lead fly, however, I am sure it will catch fish on it's own. 

Will I use this fly this season on Blue River?  Sure, plan on tying it on soon and I do expect it to produce. 

If you know the name of this fly then please leave a comment.  

Chapter 58 Day 30 - Trout Season

The Ebb And Flow Of An Oklahoma Trout Stream

In the first three weeks of November, Blue River was the beneficiary of extra trout.  Of course, all who love fishing for trout were pleasantly pleased.  However,  for some of us, it was a sad comment on the demise of Oklahoma's first year round trout fishery - the Lower Illinois. 

Several things came together at once in the demise of this precious tail water.  A leak in the dam, that supplied a constant flow of water, was repaired this past summer.  Then there was the exceptional drought and the record heat of 2011.  All these things worked together causing flow and water quality problems in the Lower Illinois river.

In September, the Oklahoma Department of Wildlife suspended trout stocking.  In October, there was a significant fish kill.

Good news is the stocking has been resumed at the Lower Illinois, but, the future of this beautiful trout stream is cloudy at best.

In his article for the Amarillo Globe News, Ryan Shelton shares his story in "Death Of A Trout Stream".  Shelton describes his arrival  at the Lower Illinois on opening day of trout season - not knowing about the issues surrounding  the river. 

What he found, what he saw, most certainly served as the catalyst and motivating factor for Shelton penning his article. 

In that piece, Shelton includes a quote from Scott Hood, President of the Oklahoma Chapter of Trout Unlimited.  Hood said, "It's a problem that can be solved by putting pressure on the government." 

Shelton goes on to include the names of two elected Oklahoma officials that can help at the federal level. 

As members of the fly-fishing community we should always fight the good fight when it comes to our fishing water.  It is our duty to save every inch and every ounce of our fisheries. 

I invite you to read Ryan Shelton's complete article and have included the link below.  I also encourage you to contact the two elected officials mentioned in Shelton's article and let them know the Lower Illinois can not be lost as a trout fishery. 

Death Of A Trout Stream.

Chapter 58 Day 29 - Trout Season

Tuesday Afternoon With The Trout

It was a pretty afternoon today on the river, even though it was a little airy again.  It was airy enough to create a complete riffle on the long, wide, and deep stretch of water I fished.  This was a familiar water, however, I decided to approach it from the opposite side.  Looking back now, I'm glad I did because it placed me on the inside lane of the wind; hidden behind a tall island that served as a perfect wind-break. 

The side I chose is a more wooded area that overlooks the river and two different runs of water. Here there are a number of trails that will take you to both runs and it's nice to walk through those woods.

I took one of those trails down to the long, wide, and deep water and found a small sandy shoal that would allow a fly fisher to wade out about five feet.  It was all roll casting today - no room at all for a backcast, but, that didn't seem to bother the trout.

Even though I was attempting a thirty to thirty-five foot roll, I would soon discover the trout were only eighteen to twenty feet in front of me.  And... they would slam the fly - it seemed like they were hooking themselves.  Fish after fish, fun... oh, so much fun.  It wasn't a fish every cast, but, the cast-to-catch ratio was pretty darn high. 

Never changed patterns this afternoon, just kept tossing the streamer.  The trout were finicky in how the fly was moving.  They wanted it deep in the column with little movement at all.  Although I was slow-crawl-stripping all afternoon, I do believe if a fly fisher had fished under an indicator they would have actually done better. 

Looking upstream, two good size submerged boulders catches the eye so an investigation is launched.  The boulders are large enough for a fly fisher to stand on, but, the water between me and boulder was hard to judge.  It looked to be chest deep, but, could have been deeper so I deemed it too dicey to try today since I was fishing alone.  Maybe when someone is fishing alongside I'll try it.

What is amazing to me is that all these wonderful years I've had on this river, new pools and pockets are coming this way.  The structure of this river is absolutely amazing with countless places for the trout to hide and make their lies.  Exploring this river more is part of the goal of my Chapter 58. 

The weather is predicted to change for the worse in the coming days.  Today was a good day to be on the river Blue.

Chapter 58 Day 25 - Trout Season

Favorable Circumstances

For sure, today was going to be a non-fishing day for me because of the requirement the mercantile store had for me.

However, around mid-morning a favorable circumstance came my way - so favorable it would put me on the river Blue within the hour. 

If I were to go into detail regarding this favorable circumstance I would certainly be incriminating myself and the result might turn out to be me standing in the unemployment line. 

The event would place me in the community of Tishomingo and when we are in Tishomingo we are just ten minutes away from the river Blue

Of course I went.  Why wouldn't I?  The waders, boots, rod, fly packs and all the other stuff required was already in the schooner and it didn't take much convincing that what I was about to do was a perk. 

Today on the river I wanted to fish a place called Ted's Pool.  Ted's pool is a long, wide, and quite deep pool directly above Horseshoe Falls.  Ninety percent of Ted's Pool is way too deep to wade, however, the downstream end is more shallow and full of rock structure - structure the trout think they can hide.  Hide they may try, but if you put your fly in the right spots and employ the right presentation, the trout will come to you as they did today in my short time fishing. 

Horseshoe Falls

Ted's Pool is above Horseshoe Falls

Soon after entering the drink at Ted's Pool, there was the pleasure of some company across the way - company in the form and fashion of a young fly-fishing couple.  I like that.  There's something special about couples that fly-fish together. 

And as you can see this fly-fishing duo was finding the bows also. 

It was such a beautiful day on the river today.  I could have stayed all afternoon.  But, even as favorable as the circumstance was, that got me to the river today, luck shouldn't be stretched. 

With an olive bodied bugger with a bi-color tail of olive and yellow I caught a few trout.  Then, I took a few pictures and left the river a happy man. 

Chapter 58 Day 23 - Trout Season

The Thanks We All Should Be Giving This Thanksgiving

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving.  For Miss Carol and me, this Thanksgiving is kind of a wash with me having to be at work early in the morning and Carol having to pull a six hour shift beginning at noon. 

Most likely, we will go a non-traditional route, late in the day, fixing some tacos or maybe tamales.  Our children are here, there, and everywhere, some of them traveling, and therefore getting everyone together would be a logistical nightmare. 

I would like to go to the river Blue tomorrow afternoon and regardless of whether I get to or not, I will remind myself this Thanksgiving of all I have to be thankful for as a member of the outdoor community. 

Here on the prairie ocean, we have been blessed with a wonderful outdoor and wildlife program managed by the Oklahoma Department of Wildlife. 

I truly believe if you ask anyone with the wildlife department about Blue River they will be quick to tell you that Blue River is one of the crown jewels of their program.  Blue is a sparkling stone set concretely in the cap that a proud department wears so proudly.

Although Blue River is not one of the year round trout fisheries, it is the most popular fall and winter-time trout fishery in Oklahoma.  In addition, this river has another distinction - a trout fishery that is classified as a put and take trout fishery, but, has a delayed harvest catch and release section - something that is unique.  The delayed harvest catch and release area is the result of a proactive wildlife department listening to a small segment of the fly fishing community.  I don't know how we could ask for more.

Blue River has a number of distinctions and the one I like best is the fact that it is a free-flowing river.  No dams to impede it's natural flow or course - this river's direction is left to nature.  

And on this prairie ocean we have excellent coverage of the outdoor community with people like Ed Godfrey, outdoor editor for the Oklahoman, and Kelly Bostian, outdoor editor for the Tulsa World Journal.

So tomorrow if I am lucky enough to get to the river, I will find a rock along the river's edge and take a seat, and it is here I will talk with the creator telling him of my thanks for all the blessings in my life in general, and as an outdoorsman.  

Chapter 58 Day 22 - Trout Season

And Oh... How The Rain Came

You see that weather map above... the one on my boob tube last night.  That was the prairie ocean at 6 p.m. last night.  All that green, yellow, and red was different rain systems plowing across the prairie. 

Here on the southern sea of the greater ocean it begin raining mid-afternoon and rained steady for six or seven hours. 

The Blue River area received even more rain and a report from Blue River Area Manager Matt Gamble reveals the river has gone murky and might be on it's way to turning into a beefy colored stew. 

The good news is that we received much needed rain after such a miserable spring and summer, record heat, and terrible drought.  The rain is good for this river since much of the river is spring fed. 

Although many people stay on the river through the Thanksgiving holiday and following weekend, the fishing may prove to be tough.  If you are a fly fisher, and you must go fly-fishing or go insane, then pack the darker color patterns.  My favorite is a rust brown - fish brown in brown water. 

Even though it is trout season I'm constantly thinking about carp.  Today, after work, I decided to check Rock Creek to see how the rain changed this prairie ocean current.  Much to my surprise the rain did little to disturb the color or flow of the creek.  While standing on a high bluff looking down at the creek, riffles caught my eye.  Directly below was some really nice carp feeding against the bank.  I say really nice - they were like sows. 

Figuring they needed their picture taken, I rushed back to the schooner and grabbed the memory maker. 

Oh grand and golden ones, sweet beasts - I will visit you this spring.  You should expect a visit from Charlie also.  

Chapter 58 Day 21 - Trout Season

To Overline Or Not To Overline - Is That Really The Question?

If we ask a broad spectrum of the fly fishing community including fly casting experts, line manufacturers, and rod makers about the wisdom of underlining or over-lining our rods, the answer we will most likely get is that it's best to put the appropriate weight line on the appropriate weight rod. 

In other words, a five weight rod should receive a five weight line.  However, these days, we see even the line manufacturers challenging that concept.  Line manufacturers like Scientific Anglers have created a line of fly line that is not exactly what it says it is.  SA has a series that is slightly more than the box tells us - it's labeled a five weight, for example, but, is actually a 5.5 weight.  To me, and I have been wrong more often than not, that's over-lining.

This past weekend on Blue River an over-lined rod went with me.  I could not have been more pleased with the performance of this rod and line.  And, the fish didn't seem to mind either. 

The rod in question was one of the two Cabela's Three Fork rods that Charlie recently gifted me.  No doubt, they are a little bit on the stiff side and rather fast.  By over-lining, the rod was slowed just a bit, causing a bit more flex and the delivery was really nice.

Charlie was the one that suggested I over-line these rods and that's because Charlie has had a long history of rods, weighing fly lines for grains and all that whoopy-do stuff.  Charlie knows what he is talking about.

There are guys out there that do nothing but cast fly rods and they are indeed good at it.  That kind of thing doesn't interest me at all however.  Just can't see myself in some competition casting on a landlocked area or in some casting pool where there are no fish. 

The argument, or intellectual discussion, I should say, will go on and on for years.  Some will say it's perfectly fine to over-line while others will rant as why it should never be done. 

For me, it's quite simple.  The fish could care less if we over-line, use the appropriate weight, or even if we under-line.  It's not like they're down there in the water column and suddenly say, "Hey guys, get a load of this!  This joker has a 9 ft. 4 weight and he's got 5 weight line on it!"

No, that conversation in the trout community will never take place.  All the trout will be interested in is that natural drifting pheasant tail nymph floating my their head. 

Chomp!

There is more to fly fishing than capturing fish - much more.  However, if most of us are honest about it, we do like battling the fish the most. 

Resting my case.  

Chapter 58 Day 20 - Trout Season

Dependability

It wasn't too long ago I asked Carol why in the world she married me?  Was it because she found me charming, charitable with my meager funds, or just simply drop-dead good-looking? 

Carol... doesn't mince her words and quickly informed me she married me for none of the reasons I mentioned, but, rather for the fact I was dependable and she knew she could always count on me. 

In our fly fishing lives there are certain fly patterns that we usually know we can always count on to produce.  That's dependability. 

Yesterday morning on the river Blue at 9:30 a.m. it was 65 degrees.  This morning on the river at 9:30 a.m. it was 45 degrees with a noticeable breeze and a little mist.  Since the Prince Nymph did so well yesterday I tied him on again went to the exact same spot as yesterday.  Today however, it was a totally different story.  I don't know if the trout got wise to ol' Princey boy or what, but, he couldn't have bribed a fish today. 

After giving him ten or so runs the decision to go to plan B was put into effect.  Some of the patterns that I've always been able to count on are the Hare's Ear, Pheasant Tail, and the venerable Bugger.  The Bugger went on and the fish started coming my way. 

There are still a lot of campers at Blue River, but, the crowds on the water were much thinner today.  I didn't have long to stay because of things to be done at the prairie home. 

On the way in to the river this morning I saw two deer hunters dragging a deer from the woods.  Guess their day was made.  It is hunting season at Blue and there were probably a half dozen hunters in the woods on the road going in. 

On the way back to the prairie home I got to shoot some deer of my own.  Shot em' with a Fuji Finepix.



Chapter 58 Day 19 - Trout Season

An Improving River
Blue River is trying desperately to return to the color and complexion that many of us consider normal.  This morning the river had improved immensely and is now what I call a tannin color.  It's my opinion the river is tannin-colored because of the muddy conditions caused by the big rain ten days ago, along with the runoff capturing much of the burned debris from the wildfire in the north wilderness.  Then if we add the hundreds of thousands of leaves that have found their way to the river we get tannin. 

If you are a fly fisher and sought out the shallow runs this morning at Blue, the river could have been very rewarding to you... as it was to me. 

I went downstream and found a shallow run and tied an olive bodied bugger with a bi-color tail of olive and yellow on the tippet.  The trout liked it.  Then I switched to the red ass bugger, which has been the talk of the river lately, and again the trout liked it.  However, my best friend of this morning's outing would be a size 14 Prince Nymph.  Ol' Princey boy produced a lot of trout. 

There were a lot of people on the river today - a lot of people.  I guess they were thinking the same way I was, which was to take advantage of the 65 degree weather and try and get some good fishing time in before the big rain comes late tomorrow - a rain that is sure to blow the river again.

After catching so many fish in one spot I tend to get a little bored so leaving the downstream water a course is set upstream to the water below the Crossing.  Here there are fly fishers, spinner fishers, and bait fisherman. 

I stand in the river a good thirty minutes intently watching the other anglers.  With the exception of one spinner fisherman who caught one trout while I was there, no one else caught any fish.  When I first stepped in the river I tied on the Olive Zonker Minnow I spoke of recently.  Casting it upstream and panic stripping it back, a trout absolutely slammed the Minnow.  I got a hook set, but after about twenty seconds it was the old quick release and the trout said, "Goodbye cowboy." 

Then, tying on the red ass bugger I found the only trout I would catch at this particular spot.  It was near noon now and my prairie home called. 

If making the river is possible tomorrow, think I will give Bubble Boy a run to see how he does. 

Today was a rewarding and beautiful day on the river Blue.  I give thanks and return to the bunkhouse. 

Chapter 58 Day 18 - Trout Season

So Far Away From Me

Thirsty... so thirsty.  Not for a drink of water, but rather for water to fish.  Water so near but I cannot seem to get there. 

Michael Mercurio sent a message to me and Charlie too that he was coming up today to fish the catch & release area.  He said he could use some company and Michael makes for wonderful company, but, Charlie was busy at his inn and I was tied to the mercantile store.  The water escaped both Charlie and I today.  Hoping Michael had a bang-up outing. 

There is this weekend however and from what I am hearing it is go now or wait a long time.  Anyone that is hoping to battle the trout of Blue River better do so this weekend or be prepared to wait for things to get better.  The fore-sayers of the weather are predicting that we will receive four inches of rain come Monday or Tuesday.  If that indeed takes place then Blue River is going to be a mess for the rest of November and into early December. 

Even though the river is still murky and the wind is predicted to howl tomorrow, I have to go see the princess of the prairie and drown a fly or two. 

Last trout season, near this time, I tied up a pattern called the Bubble Boy Soft Hackle and took it to Blue with me.  On it's maiden voyage it caught trout and then caught more trout.  But then... a shipwreck - the fly slamming into a submerged boulder and Bubbly Boy was lost at sea.  I only tied one of this pattern and never tied another last season. 

Tonight, I tied another Bubble Boy and Bubble Boy Jr. to go with it. 

The Bubble Boy requires few materials - a gold beadhead, partridge feather, glass bead behind the partridge and dubbed body.

I may invite these two to go with the river with me tomorrow and if so they will get to taste the stew. 

Also tomorrow, I am hopeful to find some clear fast riffles to try my hand at a little Euro nymphing leaving the indicators in the package where they belong.  

Chapter 58 Day 16 - Trout Season

Confessions Of A Fly Fishing Hoarder - Part 2

Indeed by hoarding is getting worse.  Each year, the accumulation seems to grow.  Sometimes when sitting alone and thinking about all the fly fishing stuff and what I would do with it if something happens to me... I get even more confused. 

I don't know anyone that would want all this crap.  I have a good number of fly fishing friends that could certainly use some of the stuff.  I guess I could donate it to a fly fishing/fly tying group somewhere and they could use it or auction the crap off for funds for their club.  That sounds like a pretty good idea I think. 

Anyhow, here today I want to share a little more of this disease I suffer from. 

This is what they call a "spinner rack" and I got this from the mercantile store I work.  Very handy instrument since you can stand in one spot and spin it until you find what you're looking for.  This particular rack holds beadheads, saddle hackles, and marabou.

Here's another spinner rack and this one holds CDC, a lot of flash, some turkey, duck, and some specialized materials.

And yes, there is a third spinner rack that holds zonker strips, dubbing, ostrich herl, peacock herl and an assortment of other stuff. 

There are a lot of caps.  Caps from Fly Rod & Reel, Oklahoma Department of Wildlife, Outdoor Oklahoma, Bass Pro, and a good number from the Blue River Trout Derby. 

More caps... Old West Fly Shop, Blue River Fly Fishers, and Temple Fork Outfitters.

Now, this isn't exactly a cap, but, rather than a Santa Claus hat.  Each year around Christmas time I take this hat and put it over the crown of that old cowboy hat I wear and then wade out into the river Blue.  My way of celebrating the Christmas season.  Weird?  Maybe. 

There are plaques hanging on the wall from trout derbies past. 

Awards on this wall, and awards on that wall.

And then.... there are do-dads.  Lots and lots of do-dads.  So many do-dads I forget where they came from.

One day at work, a guy came through my area carrying this and told me he was fixing to take it to the dumpster.  I said, "Oh no, no, no!  That fish represents an epic battle and special moment... let me have it!'  He did.  And now, I have one more piece of hoarding history. 

Of all the things in the hoarding room this plaque is the most precious.  This is a hand-crafted plague made by a friend of mine when I went on the 2005 Trout Bum Tourney.  The gentleman that created it was one of the kindest, considerate men I've known in life.  He went to fish the big waters of heaven a year ago this month. 

I keep old fly fishing calendars.  Why?  I don't know... maybe it's because they mark time.  Or maybe it's because they have pretty pictures on them. 

Sure, I would entertain the idea of a professional organizer to help with my hoarding problem.  However, in all honesty it would probably end up being a battle royale. 

The organizer would most likely be a lady - a most likely patient and sweet lady.  A patient and sweet lady that would make the mistake of picking up something and asking me that question. 

"Mr. Shrader, do you think this is something you could let go of?"

"No way sister... a guy named Stillwater Blue give that to me in March of 07.  Just put it down please."

"Okay, okay, that's fine.  How about this Mr. Shrader?"

"Uh-uh, forget it, ain't going to happen.  I found that dollar bill submerged in Rock Creek whale fly fishing for carp.  Just put it back and step back."

"Well then Mr. Shrader, surely you can let go of this?"

"Mam, this session is over.  I'm asking you to leave now please."

Yeah, hoarding is a mess.  





















Chapter 58 Day 14 - Trout Season

Bittersweet
I don't really know if I come to the river Blue today to fish or simply reflect.  Perhaps I came to do a little of both. 

None of us could have asked for a prettier morning.  Wonderful temperatures, wonderful fall colors, a river that is desperately trying to clear, and close to near solitude on the water. 

Upon arriving at Blue, I see a fly fisher standing on the crossing and I must go shake this man's hand.  Ralph Fullenwinder is a sweetheart of a guy and a fine angler.  He and his wife Charlotte will be camped in the "Rough Diamond" for a few days at Blue and they expect company in the coming days. 

After visiting with Ralph I head downstream to the Riffles below the Island.  Tying a bugger on I cast down and across the fast current at the Riffles allowing the current to capture the fly line and swing the fly.  Trout slam a slingling bugger and I love that tug on the bug. 

Shortly I move to the side of the Riffles deciding to highstick a seam.  It wasn't long until I hear a sloshing behind me and upon turning there is the back of a large trout sticking out of shallow water.  The trout looks to be struggling trying to get out of the shallows and then suddenly the fish bellies up.  I spool up and go to the fish to try and revive him and once close he slowly spooks and goes to deeper water.  Not seeing any injuries I am puzzled to what was making this creature sick. 

Although the river is trying hard to clear, I still think it will be two or three days before we see a major improvement.  More rain is predicted for tonight and tomorrow and the rain, although badly needed, may add to the problem of clarity on this river.  In additon to the off-color water there is the problem with leaves.  Currently leaves are falling by the thousands and choking the river.  If leaves were fish we all would have a banner day because right now our hook-point will find more leaves than fish. 

I say I come here for fish and reflection.  Fish I found and reflection I seek. 

When it comes to the trout derby in November, there are things I enjoy and things I do not.  I'm not particularly fond of the large crowds and competition for those good fishing spots.  In the excitement of the event all courtesy and etiquette goes out the door, but, I can understand.  People are excited about the possibility of catching large fish.  The other thing I do not care for about the derby is that if you enter you have to keep trout.  I don't like keeping trout.

There are things I do like about the derby however.  I like seeing people that I usually don't get to see throughout the year.  I like visiting campsites and sharing camp fires and usually there are plenty of opportunities to scarf-up on some good food. 

The November trout derby is always a bittersweet moment for me.

The November trout derby always signals another defining moment in my life.  Usually a day or so after the derby there is a date that impacted by life.  On November 14th, my wife Susie passed from this life. 

So today on November 14th, after fishing and reflecting, I go to the prairie schooner and take flowers to Susie.

My life is intertwined with this river.

Chapter 58 Day 13 - Trout Season

Derby Sunday

Today, I took my time getting to the river.  Leaving my prairie home about an hour later than yesterday I hit the river Blue and the sun was peeking over the eastern horizon.

I was telling my friend Michael Mercurio that I would have went to the wilderness area yesterday to escape the crowds, but, I didn't have the legs for it.  After a good night's rest I felt good enough to make the wilderness trip and did.  My thinking was the water might be a little clearer.

After a good mile and half walk I quickly discovered how wrong I was.  The river in the wilderness was as muddy if not more muddy.  I fished about twenty minutes landing one bow and decided to walk out and go join the crowds. 

Actually, I learned that the crowds were very thin today.  About half the people that participated in the derby yesterday didn't even bother to show up today which serves as a testament on the river's conditon and how tough fishing was. 

The river is trying to clear along the fringes, but, my experience tells me it will be a good two days before the river is good enough quality for successful fly fishing. 

4th And Goal

Ted Meador is a fine fly fishing gentleman from Denton, Texas.  I come to know Ted personally a couple of years ago during a derby while in the wilderness area.  Ted knew I had lost my wife Susie to cancer and he struck up a conversation about Susie and her cancer.  I could tell he was looking for information so I shared Susie's story.  It turns out Ted was asking for a reason - his wife had just learned she also had cancer.  Today, I asked Ted about his wife and the wonderful news is she is doing remarkably well in her battle.  I always love to hear a success story when it comes to cancer.

The reason I am mentioning Ted is because he, like many of us, had experienced a tough weekend of fishing.  At 11:30 a..m. today, Ted had managed a total of three small trout all weekend.  But... then his luck would change.

There is a seasoned angler named Floyd (we call him Wally) and Floyd ties a lot of flies.  He had just given Ted a special fly he ties and Ted had just tied it on and plopped it in the drink.  I had just stepped in the river at this spot when I heard Ted holler, "I've got one and I think he's a good one." 

I got to watch the whole battle, from hookset to net - a battle that lasted almost thirty minutes.  This fish, when first hooked, didn't move more than a foot one way or the other.  I swear the fish acted like it didn't know it'd been hooked.  After five or so minutes the fish started to move, but, again not much.  After another ten minutes the fish started upstream and Ted found himself  "walking the dog".  About fifteen minutes later the fish had worked to more shallow water and about thirty seconds before the net went on the fish I got a glimpse of it.  Not wanting to excite Ted (anymore than he already was) I simply said, "Ted, that's a huge fish... you got to get him to the net."

He did. 

Ted's fish would have tied the state record for Rainbow trout if the wildlife department had done the stocking... but they didn't.  The derby organizers stocked these fish. 

Take a look.

Ted's trout weighed 10 lbs. 4 ounces.  In the 4th quarter, with only three small trout to his name, Ted Meador got the football and scored a touchdown.