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weather was not going to cooperate, that much was clear. The sky was
that uniform gray that has the effect of making the outside seem like
the inside. The air was a bit chilly, and although it wasn't exactly
threatening rain, it certainly wasn't threatening sun.
My father and I had come to the River of Life to get in a little
spring break fly fishing. I had been to the river a couple of times
before and was very much looking forward to introducing dad to this
great river. I had warned dad about the technical aspect of this
river, with its well-fed and spoiled trout that would not move far for
a meal. I had also told him that the way to fish was with a heavily
weighed nymph close to the bottom. This is not our favorite way to
fish, but we were nevertheless very excited to hook into a trout after
a long winter.
Upon our arrival we met with Myron and he informed us that he had
double booked the little fishing room that we were to stay in but
offered us a full cabin at the same price. I have never been treated
with such hospitality anywhere as I find time after time at the River
of Life.
Anyway, it was not long before we were settled into the cabin, strung
up the rods and made the short walk down to the steam. The cabin is
situated right beside a delicious bend in the river where a long
tongue of fast, deep water lies below a set of riffles. Toward the end
of the tongue the water smoothes out to a deep, slow pool. In my
experience on this river, I have found that the long, slow pools do
not seem to hold as many trout as the deep, swifter currents or the
riffles. I imagine that this has a lot to do with the fact that the
smoother sections do not usually offer much protection from the
current and probably are lower in dissolved oxygen.
Dad and I waded across the bottom of the section and began working our
prince nymphs into the faster water. We found it necessary to use at
least one split shot between our brace of nymphs to get near the
bottom. Too much weight and we were constantly in the moss. (Moss is a
good sign on a stream because it speaks of cover, oxygen, and bugs,
but it is serious trial for the nymph fisherman.)
About five casts in, still rusty from the winter off, I hooked and
landed a very handsome little bow of about 11". I anxiously
showed dad the trout, as it is a descendent of the McCloud river
strain and had the deep red/purple band of that strain. A beautiful
fish and a good start. It was not too long before Dad hooked up with
and landed a chunky rainbow of about 13". During the next two
hours Dad landed four more and I managed one. Dad's biggest was a very
stout 17" brown that he took from the calm water directly in
front of the riffles.
The next day was cold and cloudy as well. We fought our disappointment
and headed to the water. On that day I was the lucky one, catching and
releasing six to dad's one. I have to admit though, that the
combination of poor weather and great cabin conspired to keep us off
the water more than is normal for us. All of my fish took a size 10
prince. On this river, I seldom fish any fly but the prince. I have
flirted with the woolly bugger and various stoneflies, but the prince
outfishes them all.
The next day we both caught quite a few and retired to the cabin for a
nice evening of river watching. The cabin Myron put us up in has a
great view of the river from the glassed in porch. We were two very
happy, very comfortable people.
Dad left the following morning but I hung on to fish a bit longer. In
the morning I went down to The Falls and in thirty minutes took one
18" brown and one 16" rainbow. I could have stayed there and
done well, but the weather was clearing and I wanted to be back at the
cabin if the afternoon hatch came off.
The sun finally came out and I was treated to a nice hatch of caddis.
I had been told to fish a regular ginger deer hair caddis during this
hatch, but quickly found out that the fish wanted something with a
whiter wing. Fortunately I had tied up some color variations and had a
green bodied elk hair caddis in a size 14. It worked beautifully. The
fish would materialize below the fly and really slash at it as is
drifted by. I had to be on top of the set up or I would be too late.
Interestingly, I found the trout to be quite skittish. After every one
caught I had to either sit down and rest the water for ten minutes or
wade far upstream to where the trout were still rising. Even with
resting the water, I managed to catch five and have four long distance
releases in about an hour and a half.
I really enjoyed the dry fly fishing on my last day there, but the
person who goes to the North Fork to catch fish all day every day had
better be pretty good with the nymph. The macroinvertebrate biomass in
the stream is comprised mostly of big, scary crayfish, black stonefly,
caddis, and tons and tons of snails. Because of these food organisms
and the quantity in which they are found, the trout are spoiled
rotten. They simply won't move far to take your fly.
My best advice to someone that is fishing the
North Fork would be to fish near the bottom, fish slowly and
quietly and above all fish thoroughly. A drift a
couple of inches different from your last one makes all the difference
to these lazy fish.
All in all it was a fantastic trip. I still don't catch as many trout
on the North Fork as I hope to someday, but I think that I am
beginning to get a beginning on figuring out this enigmatic river. One
thing is for sure, as long as I can stay with someone as pleasant,
helpful and friendly as Myron, I will keep coming back to try and
improve my performance on this beautiful and challenging river.
David Boggs
dboggs@sunflower.com
Editors note: David is finishing a book on his
flyfishing adventures to date. The ROLF has asked him to submit an
excerpt for viewing on our Library Page, with a link from this article
to his greater writing....if anyone would like to contact him at his
e-mail address above and assure him that it would be well received:
Please Do.
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