Cool Waters

Fishing is at best a crap shoot; it is in fact, fishing, not catching. Now don’t get me wrong or perceive this as pessimism because it isn’t. It is reality and anyone that wets a line of any kid will tell you that fish are fickle. Why you pound them on certain days and then get a skunk on others is, and will always, befuddle me? The past 3 weeks or so has been a scene of feast and famine; prior to this stretch I would be accurate in saying that I had been skunked but a few times at best in the past 5 years…recently, I have come and gone without a fish 3 times and just like a dog with a porcupine, I just keep going back. Something about the pain that draws me in…I would guess this is some sort of addiction.

Great case and point; as I sit and write this column my left elbow and left wrist are aching…not just a little ache but a full out ache. Yesterday, the 3^rd of December, was one of those odd days when the temperature hit 70 and therefore I went fly-fishing…had to go because the day before I hustled out of church and turned my Suburban south, wound up at one of my favorite spots. Over the next two hours I caught and landed 11 smallies that ranged from 13 to 15 inches; it was one great day! OK…back to my sore elbow; so with great optimism I once again found my way to a short, but productive stretch of water on the 3^rd; I entered and then exited without as much as a bite or nibble…24 hours after whacking them the day before? I can only say that if I knew why, I could write the penultimate fishing book, retire from teaching, fly-fish all over the world…hold on, back up, kind of got lost there for a second? So it goes; the ebb and flow of fishing.

Now before you cast this fly-fisher into the pool of doubt…let me tell you that those regular bait casting types of had their sorrows as well. A couple weeks back I took Steve Miller, (not the band leader) along with me to Bass Lake down in Greene-Sullivan State Forest. Steve is the proud dad of one of Edgewood’s best volleyball players….Mady. We both fished; fished hard for 5 hours and both got skunked…not even a bite on the day. When we were done Steve told me that he threw everything he had, different styles, colors, etc….and nothing at all worked!

My good friend Tim Entrekin here at school, also one of our better fishermen, has had several rough days out upon Lake Monroe. I take a minute to talk fish with Tim often because not only is he a good fisherman…but he goes often and I like to get the feel for what is going on, water temps, shad sightings, etc….out upon the bigger waters in our area. I know that when Tim has had a rough time that the fish, weather, water temperatures, etc…are just not right and fishing may be a shot in the dark?

Now….before you go and garage sell all your fishing equipment let’s go back to Sunday, December 2^nd. As I said I was fishing a piece of a creek that had been good in the past and once again the fishing Gods were with me. I was probably only on about ¾ mile of the stream; I fished up the stream, against the current as I often do  when clear water conditions exists…I do so to keep my own dust trail from dirtying the pools and tipping off the fish. I was fishing one of my go to flies, a yellow streamer pattern tied to both look like a shad or chub as well as a late season crayfish. Another late season strategy is to slow down the presentation because as the water temps drop the fish’s metabolism wanes and thus you need to deliver the possible meal slowly, trying to tantalize it into a strike.

The first good pool I came to was my indicator of the upcoming bright day; I made a long cast into the belly of the pool, tightened up on the line, gave a few quick, jerky strips to imitate a dying fish…and then waited. I watched as my peach colored, 3 weight line tightened; I made a quick, sharp strip set with my line hand and up out of the brackish water exploded a nice 14 inch bronzeback. After a few photos of my prize I moved a few feet up the pool and once again the Irish eyes were smiling. One after the other each pool offered up one or two fish with the best pool giving me three nice smallies and before the day was over I was both tired and cool (due to one slippery rock!)

I guess the moral to the old fishing story is to persevere. Never give up….OK, you know how it goes, but as I often say…”I won’t catch any fish sitting in front of my TV”! So, come on, grab your gear and get going as we all Enjoy the Great Outdoors.