Back In The Saddle Again

1939 was a long time ago; you old country music buffs might actually know 1939 as the release date of Gene Autry’s famous theme song? Even if you aren’t an old country connoisseur…you might have recognized it more recently in the 1993 classic movie starring Tom Hanks/Meg Ryan…Sleepless in Seattle. As the lyrics go; “I’m back in the saddle again, Out where a friend is a friend”…I won’t go on but I am sure that you can hum a few bars and probably hear ole Gene singing along! Oddly enough it was all I could think of this past Saturday as I pulled on my 5mm neoprene waders, squirmed and pushed to get my feet into my felt wading boots, pulled on my knit stocking hat, grabbed my lanyard full of brightly colored flies of various sizes, grabbed my new fly rod, slid my camera inside my waders and finally- strapped my new GoPro camera onto my head; I was heading to the stream and without question I was back in the saddle!

It had been 53 days, all the way back to December 30^th out in Missouri (Bennet Spring) to when I had caught my last fish. For some of you that might not sound like a long time but for me…53 days is an eternity. A shoulder surgery on January 14^th and what is no secret, one of the worst winters we’ve had…had kept me off the water and pacing around my home like a caged animal. I had read just about all the fly fishing magazines there were to be read; I’d tied enough big flies for a couple months and was very close to driving Vickie crazy…the sunshine and 55 degrees couldn’t have come soon enough.

If you have ever stream fished for smallmouth bass in the winter you already know that it is a tough proposition that involves a lot of walking, some very strategic casting and a lot of hoping that somehow you can ‘tickle’ the belly of a smallie and get it interested enough in what appears to be an irresistible and juicy crawdad to make that cardinal sin and pick up the fly. On this day it would be even tougher as we had just had our big snow meltdown, putting a deluge of water into our streams and creeks which in turn not only raises and strengthens the flow but takes the usual clear winter stream and turns it into a stained mess.

The question on this day wasn’t going to be success or no success…it was an awesome day outside enjoying all the sounds, scenes and creatures that God provides for us; success for me on this day came as I placed my wading boot into the water, anything else that might happen in the form of catching a smallie would be the proverbial icing on the cake. In fact I had to tell myself this several times while walking/tripping down the stream as the stained and fast moving water made for a very dicey wade at best.

My first big treat came about 2 hours into the excursion when I reached the heron rookery. High atop 3 giant sycamore trees are the nests of 50 to 60 heron families and perched upon most of these nest is a big blue heron that from 70 feet below looks like a prehistoric pterodactyl sticking up from a stick nest that is about half the size of a bald eagle’s. I found this group of nest a few years back when out of nowhere and from above a splotch of white liquid like material splashed down within a couple of feet from me. I took a few minutes and studied carefully above me to figure it out and when I moved into the right spot I could see a plethora of heads and quickly deduced that I might want to get moving before I too became whitewashed!

As it often happens…just when it looks like I might actually have a little ‘skunk’ on me I decided to try one more fly-a burnt orange and brown crayfish pattern I had tied on a 1/0 hook with a 60 degree bend. I knew that for a smallmouth to eat it would have to have 2 things occur; it would have to see the fly and then the fly would have to sit or tick tantalizingly in front of them. So…I chose the big crayfish pattern for its color and the fact that it had weight on the shank of the fly as well as a big pair of golden lead eyes-gave  it plenty of weight to hug the bottom.

I had arrived at the biggest and best hole on this stretch of water, it had a feeder creek that usually is a trickle…but on this day was flowing quite heavy -bringing a distinct coffee color into the main beam of the stream. Through the years I have fished enough to know that the big fish will stack up right on this seam and gobble up anything…from crayfish to mice to shiners and creek chubs, in fact probably about anything that flows into their zone…thus I made a cast out into the muddy side stream and let the current drag and slowly tick the crayfish along the bottom. My second cast was met with resistance that I initially thought was probably a rock but like I have taught myself to do…I made a powerful strip set and to my astonishment up through the stained water came a beauty of a 15 ½ inch smallmouth. Not only had I hooked a very nice fish but had luckily turned on my GoPro just before casting this last fly. My three hour walk had turned out with a bang and I was rewarded for my diligence by lipping a chubby dark olive colored smallmouth bass; yes indeed I could hear the old cowboy himself serenading me as I took a few photos and released my single trophy back into its watery lair…I was, once again, back in the saddle!

(Check out the video of me landing the smallmouth here)

If you too are just plain sick of the last 90 days of winter then grab your boots, rod and/or camera and give nature a chance to ‘revive’ your spirit as we all Enjoy the Great Outdoors.