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Every once in a while, God, Mother Nature and the Devil call a truce for period in time. When that occurs on a day one just happens to be fishing, the incredible happens. Such a day occurred for me recently on the lower Shoshone River near Cody. I felt like I was in a segment of the X Files or the Twilight Zone.
The wind had been blowing for days. No break in the weather to enjoy the baetis hatch on the river was forecast for the future. Frustration and temper was mounting. Then, miracles of miracles, the wind stopped. If you haven’t lived in Wyoming in the winter, you don’t know what quiet - true quiet - can be until the wind actually stops. It’s so quiet it gets spooky. Anyhow, for whatever reason, the Titans had quit squabbling so I went fishing.
Upon arrival, the sun was muted by a thin layer of clouds, creating enough shadow on the water that every big trout in the Shoshone was brave enough to lie up in the surface finning and sipping bunches of BWO’s like candy. And I was there! I rigged my three weight with 6X tippet and tied on a size 20 gray sparkle dun. The perfect match for the baetis adults popping from the water, then floating along like small sailboats. I positioned myself in a long slick that spread out over the weed beds in the river for a width of 30 yards or more. Inside every pocket created by swirling watercress was a brown, or rainbow, or cutthroat trout. There must have been hundreds of trout feeding in the short stretch of water I had chosen to fish.
"Don’t pinch me now", I think to myself as I work out line for a cast to the biggest trout I see feeding. First cast, short drift and "Fish on!". Quickly, the trout was landed and released. Blowing dry my fly, I pick out another trout, cast to it and booma botta bing, another hook up! I hadn’t been in the water five minutes before two fish were in the net. Awesome. The rest of the day went like this until I had covered every inch of water and prime feeding zones, landing trout after trout. I was giddy from the action but there was no way I was going to quit until darkness forced me from the river. Sometimes gluttony and greed are not sins, but a momentarily delicious reward for fishless days past and future!
The X File scenario mentioned earlier is this. Seldom does the wind not blow in Wyoming in the winter. Also uncommon are days when temperatures hover near 50 degrees and ice is not fouling the rod guides. When a day does come along with perfect fishing conditions, the trout are usually so shocked by the barometric change, they pout until fishing conditions return to the crap phase which sucks for fly fishermen. It is a vicious cycle! So, when the air, sun, wind and the Gods give us a day of unbelievable fishing, the effect is surreal, not unlike dancing with a strobe light flashing in the background. Information is processed in mini bites. Time stands still, or at least moves frame-by-frame in slow motion. From the line spraying water to the almost inaudible "gulp" a sipping trout makes, your mind captures, then burns every detail into your gray matter.
One watches the loop sail out over the water, leader unfurling then dropping perfectly over a feeding fish. The rises to the fly are slow and deliberate as if there wasn’t anything else on the water more desirable than a sparkle dun. Can it get any better than this? God, I hope so, but seriously doubt it happens every day. When it does, I hope you and I both find ourselves in the right place at the perfect time. I could handle another day like the one I just enjoyed.
Tim Wade
http://www.northforkanglers.com/ |
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