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Showing posts with label Streamers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Streamers. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 02, 2015
Good Read On Streamers For Your Wednesday
Anyone who has read the Trout Zone for any length of time knows how much I enjoy streamer fishing. I've had some long slow days that involve NOT catching fish, but when you do catch that big fish it is so worth it. Small stream streamer fishing is something that most people do not even consider, but that should not be the case. In many ways, streamers are even easier to fish on small streams. Want to learn some tips and tricks to get you started? Check out Brandon Bailes' article over on the Flymen Fishing Company site.
Tuesday, September 01, 2015
First Time Streamer Fishing
Fly fishing for trout with streamers is definitely an intermediate technique at minimum and perhaps even could be considered as advanced. One of the joys of owning a drift boat is being able to introduce people to good streamer technique. When everything comes together, and they catch that first trout on a streamer, the smiles rival catching that first trout ever. Last week I had an open day and called my buddy Tyler to see if he wanted to fish. Rarely do I have to ask him twice, and we made plans on when and where to meet.
The next day, we dumped the boat and immediately anchored up for a snack. I had a full morning of errands behind me and needed some fuel to row down under the 5,000 plus CFS that were coming through the sluice gate and generator. This proved to be a good opportunity to give Tyler the verbal crash course on what we were trying to accomplish.
Before long, I pulled the anchor and we were under way. Tyler was hitting the banks and current seams like a pro and before long the follows and flashes were coming. In fact, I soon saw perhaps the largest trout I've ever seen on the Caney flash on his streamer. I glanced up and his eyes were as big as saucers, and I was back rowing like mad to try and give another shot. On this day, it was not meant to be. The big fish never showed itself again, but I guarantee that I will be back to look for that big slab of buttery brown.
Once we switched for a short distance so I could throw a few casts myself. Tyler is slowly learning to do a good job at rowing. Eventually I'll have him trained in to row me down there river the whole way. On this day, the student would out-fish the teacher. Before long, I switched back to the oars and this time I could tell that Tyler was dialed in. The streamer was landing within a foot of the bank and he was swimming the fly like a pro.
We were entering another big fish zone where I had recently seen a large brown. Directing Tyler to cast to specific spots soon brought results. A nice fish slammed the streamer and Tyler was happy and nervous all at once. Anyone who has had a nice fish on the line knows the stress that comes at such times. Handling it like a pro, he soon had the fish in the net and posed for a couple of pictures. Like other recent quality fish, this one ate a PB&J streamer. Congrats Tyler!
After watching the fish swim off strongly, we continued downstream. I fished a bit more, but other than some small stockers chasing and one nice fish that missed the hook, I could tell it just wasn't my day. Tyler went back to the front casting brace and before long had his second brown on a streamer. Not bad for his first time ever streamer fishing.
Soon the ramp slid into view and before we knew it the boat was loaded. The air conditioning felt great after the hot sun on the river. Funny how catching nice fish made us forget the heat until we got to the end of the float.
The next day, we dumped the boat and immediately anchored up for a snack. I had a full morning of errands behind me and needed some fuel to row down under the 5,000 plus CFS that were coming through the sluice gate and generator. This proved to be a good opportunity to give Tyler the verbal crash course on what we were trying to accomplish.
Before long, I pulled the anchor and we were under way. Tyler was hitting the banks and current seams like a pro and before long the follows and flashes were coming. In fact, I soon saw perhaps the largest trout I've ever seen on the Caney flash on his streamer. I glanced up and his eyes were as big as saucers, and I was back rowing like mad to try and give another shot. On this day, it was not meant to be. The big fish never showed itself again, but I guarantee that I will be back to look for that big slab of buttery brown.
Once we switched for a short distance so I could throw a few casts myself. Tyler is slowly learning to do a good job at rowing. Eventually I'll have him trained in to row me down there river the whole way. On this day, the student would out-fish the teacher. Before long, I switched back to the oars and this time I could tell that Tyler was dialed in. The streamer was landing within a foot of the bank and he was swimming the fly like a pro.
We were entering another big fish zone where I had recently seen a large brown. Directing Tyler to cast to specific spots soon brought results. A nice fish slammed the streamer and Tyler was happy and nervous all at once. Anyone who has had a nice fish on the line knows the stress that comes at such times. Handling it like a pro, he soon had the fish in the net and posed for a couple of pictures. Like other recent quality fish, this one ate a PB&J streamer. Congrats Tyler!
After watching the fish swim off strongly, we continued downstream. I fished a bit more, but other than some small stockers chasing and one nice fish that missed the hook, I could tell it just wasn't my day. Tyler went back to the front casting brace and before long had his second brown on a streamer. Not bad for his first time ever streamer fishing.
Soon the ramp slid into view and before we knew it the boat was loaded. The air conditioning felt great after the hot sun on the river. Funny how catching nice fish made us forget the heat until we got to the end of the float.
Labels:
Brown Trout,
Caney Fork River,
Fly Fishing,
PB&J Streamer,
Shad,
Streamer Fishing,
Streamers
Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Snowy Solitude
One of the rare pleasures of fly fishing, at least for me, is fishing in the snow. Yes, it can be ridiculously cold, but the quiet and solitude of being outside during a snowstorm is well worth the price of admission. When the snow started to pile up yesterday, my first thought was to go home and relax. My evening opened up a bit however and with time to spare, I headed for Boulder Creek.
After finding the lower creek muddy on Sunday, I figured with the cold weather it had to have dropped and cleared. Wrong. Entering Boulder Canyon instead of fishing in mud, I was impressed with how quickly the road conditions deteriorated as I left town.
The Trout Mobile has seen better days and the balding front tires suggested an extended adventure deep into the canyon would be foolhardy at best. So it was that I found myself stopping just above Four Mile.
The stream was a black ribbon through an otherwise white landscape. Again I wondered if it was wise to fish, but, curious on how the fish would respond to the snowstorm, I quickly rigged up. In retrospect I should have used gloves, but I didn't plan to fish long so just through on my lucky fishing cap, a fleece, and a rain coat and scrambled down to a nice pool just below a stretch of pocket water.
Not really wanting to move, I started changing patterns, looking for that one that might do the trick. A Bellyache Minnow produced several soft hits including some from nicer fish. The cold water had the fish a bit lethargic though, and I failed to connect. Several other patterns were tried and I even dropped a soft hackle behind a little streamer to no avail. Miraculously, I could still tie knots, sorta at least. This is my usual "test" for getting "too" cold. Opening up the streamer box, I stared for a while. Finally, I reached for a Girdle Bug but at the last second my fingers veered to a sculpin pattern. I was now in the zone, making the right choice without even knowing why.
It took only a couple of casts before I had a solid hit and quickly pulled in a beautiful but sluggish brown from the chilly water. I took a couple of pictures, then started to consider the warmth I had left at home. Hunger reminded me that it was past supper time and probably time to get out of the canyon before dark. Pausing, I took another picture of the stream, thankful for the opportunity for an hour of solitude in the snow.
After finding the lower creek muddy on Sunday, I figured with the cold weather it had to have dropped and cleared. Wrong. Entering Boulder Canyon instead of fishing in mud, I was impressed with how quickly the road conditions deteriorated as I left town.
The Trout Mobile has seen better days and the balding front tires suggested an extended adventure deep into the canyon would be foolhardy at best. So it was that I found myself stopping just above Four Mile.
The stream was a black ribbon through an otherwise white landscape. Again I wondered if it was wise to fish, but, curious on how the fish would respond to the snowstorm, I quickly rigged up. In retrospect I should have used gloves, but I didn't plan to fish long so just through on my lucky fishing cap, a fleece, and a rain coat and scrambled down to a nice pool just below a stretch of pocket water.
Not really wanting to move, I started changing patterns, looking for that one that might do the trick. A Bellyache Minnow produced several soft hits including some from nicer fish. The cold water had the fish a bit lethargic though, and I failed to connect. Several other patterns were tried and I even dropped a soft hackle behind a little streamer to no avail. Miraculously, I could still tie knots, sorta at least. This is my usual "test" for getting "too" cold. Opening up the streamer box, I stared for a while. Finally, I reached for a Girdle Bug but at the last second my fingers veered to a sculpin pattern. I was now in the zone, making the right choice without even knowing why.
It took only a couple of casts before I had a solid hit and quickly pulled in a beautiful but sluggish brown from the chilly water. I took a couple of pictures, then started to consider the warmth I had left at home. Hunger reminded me that it was past supper time and probably time to get out of the canyon before dark. Pausing, I took another picture of the stream, thankful for the opportunity for an hour of solitude in the snow.
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