Bamboozling The Bows

Thirty-seven bows came by way
Thirty-seven for a short day
Thirty-seven bows by Frenchie pink
Thirty-seven plucked from the drink

To bamboozle is to trick or deceive or to dupe by sometimes questionable manner.  The fishing on Saturday was off the charts - almost obscene at times.  The weather the creator gave the angler on Saturday was also off the charts - a little cool early, but once the sun topped the tree line a nice warm-up began. 

The tricking of the bows started with the very first cast around 7:30 yesterday morning.  The Frenchie would be sent to sea, the fly lands, a count of ten and then a twitch.  The strike takes place, quickly followed by a hook-set.  Sounds easy doesn't it?  Yesterday it was and the twitch seemed to be the bamboozling.

Shortly after wading into the river I hear a voice and when I turn I'm greeted by Dan Ham.  Dan was hoping to get the same sweet stretch I was fishing. Like me, Dan also knows that this run can be quite a rewarding place.  I almost felt guilty that I had the hole and Dan had crossed a branch of the river to get there.  But, Dan was all good with it as we chatted and I handed him a pink Frenchie pattern.  Later on, Dan would report he caught a few trout with the Frenchie before the fly was lost at sea. 

It was almost a fish on every cast and before the trout would grow pattern weary, twenty-one souls would come my way via the Frenchie.  The Frenchie was once again in competition with the Brown Bugger - the bugger leading, Frenchie following.  Brown Bugger was getting shut out at this point and before the day would be over the score would read Frenchie 37, Brown Bugger 0. 

 

 

Moving on upstream I came to one of the two trout hotels that are below the Cove.  Sometimes there is full occupancy at these boarding places, sometimes there is plenty of room for more.  Nine more souls would come to the hand and all courtesy of the Frenchie. The bugger was still at zilch.

 

Scott Dittner finally makes it to the river and starts fishing the flats above the falls at the Cove.  I had just made about three casts with no results except getting terribly tangled in a tree behind me.  I move across the river to the east side and when I come back over Scott is gone.  Upstream is Dan and he is precariously perched on a boulder in the middle of the river.  How he got out there without drowning I haven't a clue.  Dan has already lost his Frenchie, but still he is catching a lot of trout.  Once he lost the pink Frenchie, he looked in his box for something else pink.  He found it and that was the ticket.

 

Dan starts to walk out and I go downstream with him to look for Scott, but no Scott there.  Then it's back upstream and finally I see Scott.  He had just landed another bow also courtesy of the Frenchie.  It's probably 10 o'clock and a fellow I was suppose to meet today has yet to show.  Telling Scott I'm going downstream to look for Eugene I strike out.  No Eugene at the Cove, or hotel, or Coyote Pass, so it's down to Desperado Springs and still no Eugene.  Back to Coyote Pass I go and begin fishing again. 

 

 

 

 

When trout number 37 came in for the branding I knew I had stayed well past my time.  My aching back had been trying to tell me so for an hour or so already.  The Brown Bugger was crying "calf rope", and the Frenchie was worn out.  It was time to go.

 

Mauled

 

I walked out of the wilderness with two fly anglers from Norman, Oklahoma.  Although they had a great morning on the river, the fish didn't come to their flies much at all.  They had one fly between the two of them.  At the top of the hill I gave them both a Frenchie and invited them to try it on their next visit. 

 

I really didn't want to leave the river, but my body sometimes limits my duration on the water.  Blue was really pretty today.  The rain had little effect on the river and she is fishing great right now. 

 



 



 

Good Juju Bugs - Bad Juju Bugs

Today was a day I have been looking forward to for the better part of a week.  Michael Mercurio was traveling north from Texas, Scott Dittner was traveling east and south.  Later on I would find out that Boone Merhman was also traveling north from Texas, and Mike Littrel sailing south.  Everyone was on their way to fly fish on Blue River.

Boone and Mike planned on hitting the catch and release area early, and then catching up with Michael, Scott, and me later on in the south wilderness.  Michael, Scott, and yours truly had agreed to meet at 9 o'clock and head straight for the south wilderness, and this is exactly what took place.

Before heading out this morning, I hit the mercantile store and built a Christmas gift basket for Miss Gloria at Scotty's.  For the last three or four years I have taken her a gift basket and I knew if I didn't get it delivered today I might not get it there at all due to a tightening work schedule and more ill weather headed this way.

 

Right after dropping the basket off at Scotty's, I look down the road and there comes Scott Dittner.  We chat a while and then decide to head to the meeting spot with Mercurio... figuring he was dragging ass.  However, Mercurio was already in place waiting on our asses that seemed to be dragging. We shoved off and hit the wilderness.  

Mercurio is probably the best nymph fly fisherman I've ever met.  Most times I fish with him he smokes my butt in good fashion.  Scott has become one of those guys who has twenty, thirty, or more fish days.  However, there are times that capturing trout are a hard fought battle and unfortunately this would be one of those days... at least while I was there.  Mercurio and I would have to cut out mid-afternoon, but Scott would end up staying to fish with Mike and Boone. 

It's happened to me many times... more times than I would like to tell.  It's almost like you have flies with good Juju, or flies with bad Juju.  Today, I seemed to have a couple of patterns with the good Juju.

One of the good Juju flies was the Copper John.  Fishing it at the lower end of the south wilderness, this pattern would take the first half dozen trout.  I would have left it on, but after tying several flies of a pattern I had never fish before I wanted to give that pattern a chance.  The pattern was the Frenchie... a good Juju pattern also.

The Frenchie is a fairly easy fly pattern to tie.  If you have enough material prepped and ready to go, then an easy ten flies can be finished in an hour or so.  This pattern was created by Lance Egan, and his creation has a huge following.  The guys at flytying123.com have created an excellent video showing the materials and process in creating this pattern.




I tied three different colors of Frenchie's last night - one in pink, one in chartreuse, and one in purple.  Starting out with the pink, the trout was quite interested.  After several fish, the pink Frenchie was lost to the sea.  Then the chartreuse went on.

The chartreuse picked up where the pink left off and more trout were showing interest.  After exploring this downstream pool, it was time to go upstream.

Working our way upstream we come to Coyote Pass.  Scotty and Merc go further upstream while I stay at the Pass.  There are three other anglers here so I bide my time and let them fish.  One angler moves upstream and I take that water, but only one fish comes to hand.

Further upstream I fish the trout hotel and it seems there is full occupancy at this stretch.  The chartreuse is doing quite well until a tree limb takes his life. The purple Frenchie goes on, but meets with great failure.  Then the Lightning Bug goes on and also meets with great failure... and Scott and Merc experienced the same with the Lightning Bug - zero eats. Where's that Copper John?

The John goes back on and one more fish would be taken bringing my daily total to 17.  This would be the end of my capturing fish this day. 

Making our way to the Cove, the bad Juju still lingers on the flies of Merc and Scott and by now we are all scratching our heads as to why - they're damn good flies fished by damn good fly fishers.  Merc tells me it's almost 1 o'clock and I swear it doesn't seem like we've been on the river for an hour.  My time, and Merc's time is short, but we plow on hoping for more fish. 

At about this time, Mike and Boone along with Boone's wonderful furred friend Josie arrives.  I so regret not getting a picture of Josie who is a magnificent specimen of a bloodhound and so well mannered.  Mike and Boone had a good outing in the catch and release and now they were exploring the south wilderness. 

As Merc and I was beginning our walk out of the wilderness, I kind of made a bet with the remaining three.  I bet them that if they went all the way to the top of the south wilderness - a place called Dividing Line Falls, they would really get into the fish.  I hope I was right... I hope I win that bet...  and not because I like to win bets.  I do like people really getting into the fish though. 

Good Juju, bad Juju... it happens and that's not what is important.  Spending time with folk you really like is what's important.  The problem is... these opportunities don't come around often enough.