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. 

 



 



 

The Tour

"And to your left is Chuck's Ledge, followed by the Boulder, and then we have the Sandbar.  Just downstream you will see the Island, the Flats, and finally the Riffles.  All this water is prime trout territory." 

That's kind of how I spent much of the day yesterday at Blue and I thoroughly enjoyed introducing two fine gentlemen from Allen, Texas to some of the pleasures of this river.  Dan and John both live in Allen, Texas and about six months ago they decided to take up fly fishing.  Both Dan and John live less than ten minutes from Cabela's in Allen and that must be a terrible hardship to have.  I must say they were geared up rather nicely. 

Yesterday's trip would be the first for John and the second trip Dan had made to Blue.  The week prior Dan was trying to get to the catch and release section, but he unfortunately walked up the east side of the river and never got to see the middle or upper section of the C and R. 

We got on the water about 7:30 and immediately began getting hammered by the wind.  The wind was brutal and unrelenting.  I decided to have these guys fish a tandem rig and most likely did these gentlemen a disfavor.  Trying to throw a tandem rig in gusting wind is like asking for a lot of tangles... and tangles we found.  However, we overcame all those minor problems and found some trout. 

Dan would find the first trout of the day fishing upstream from Cottonwood Pool.  He would end up catching two in this pool on a brown bugger.  There were a good number of missed hook-sets due to being a little slow on the rod lift, but that's natural to someone brand new to this game. 

Dan Wilson

 

 



We were hoping to get on the sandbar, but it was occupied most of the time. When a vacancy would come open we would start that way, but before we could get there someone else would be wading out.  So in trying to practice what I preach about etiquette we yielded this sweet spot. 

 

Down at the Island, Dan would find more trout with a Frenchie pattern and John would find his first trout of the day with a Copper John.  There would some more tangles, more wind,  and for Dan a good number of missed hook-sets.  If he'd caught all the trout that ate his flies he would've had a dozen fish for the morning. 

 

John with bow on line.



One of the most rewarding things for me during our morning time was how Dan learned to make a back-handed roll cast and I have to say he had some good distance on it.  I can't imagine the distance he'll have in six months with this back-handed execution.  It was a pretty sight to watch. 

It was near the noon hour and the sun had yet to break through the soup in the sky.  With numb feet and aching fingers, we decided to hit Scotty's for a lunch break. 

When we walked into Scotty's, there sit the one and only Chris Adams.  Chris, being the good soul he is, bought lunch for the lot of us.  Over Scotty burgers, tots, and a corn dog to try and satisfy my incredible craving, we talked about a good number of things as Chris was trying to sell us on the idea he was probably rusty because this was his first trip to Blue this season. 

Now, Dan and John may have believed Chris but I didn't  As far as fly fishing, I know Chris pretty darn well and the guy is never rusty - he's like a well-oiled machine.  And, about a half hour later Dan and John would get to see this for themselves in the south wilderness.

As we walked into the south wilderness, Chris opened up and shared his knowledge with Dan and John naming the landmarks, showing them sweet spots, and soon he would gift them both with the famous Bubba Bugger. 

At the bottom of the hill we came upon one of the "Too Lovely To Litter" stations that Matt and his crew have established.  Chris and his son did a good job building these stations and hopefully they will help the litter problem at Blue.

At Coyote Pass, Dan would find another trout with a Frenchie pattern.  Upstream a ways John would find his second trout of the day with a Copper John.  And further upstream, Chris was putting on a demonstration of "How To Catch A Ton Of Trout With The Bubba Bugger". 

John with a south wilderness bow.

Yours truly didn't spend a whole lot of time fishing yesterday.  My concern was being more attentive to the guys from Allen since this was all brand new to them. However, I did get some time in and ended the day with sixteen to hand.  In doing the math, the Frenchie pattern accounted for 88% of the bows I met today.  The brown bugger accounted for the remainder.

 

 

 

 

Before we knew it, three o'clock had already come and gone and it was time for me to head out.  I said so-long to Dan, John, and Chris and begin my walk out, but did stop for about ten minutes at a really sweet spot and found five more bows on five casts.

 

I am so delighted that the guys from Allen, Texas have discovered Blue River.  I can tell you just with the time we spent together today, that this river has gained two more devoted stewards and they inasmuch said so.  Dan and John will be back many times and each time they come they will discover something new about fly fishing and something new at Blue River.