It’s hard to come out and post an entry that states: no success today. And I’ve been guilty of skipping a post here and there for that reason. But sometimes, well, you just gotta, if for no other reason than to let somebody know that you haven’t gone off the radar. Generally, I am prone to talking about fly fishing for trout in South Carolina, but today we went fly fishing for trout in North Carolina (we: Rhee, Angus – new family member, and I). So instead of the Chattooga River, I felt like visiting the Davidson River.
In spite of Rhee’s best efforts to get us into an early start, I manage to “take care of this ‘n that” and we don’t get going until around ten or so. Which means that we won’t be close to trout-fishable water for at least a couple of hours. As it turned out, the weather was just short of gorgeous: a nice breeze, cool temperature for the middle of August – this from a report that the early morning registered 57 degrees. I know, but these things can happen in the mountains.
At any rate, the fish were active. Oh boy, were they active! Well, let me first mention that we parked in the Fish Hatchery parking lot. I walked straight from the car to the river after rigging up, a walk of maybe 200 feet. And there were people everywhere (well, the place IS popular). So this sets the stage to let you know that these fish are not bashful or spooky. You can stand among them in the middle of the river and it’s like you don’t exist. Cast all you want. Change flies all you want. It doesn’t bother them in the least. And they don’t bother you, either.
These fish ranged all the way from fingerling size to leg-length. They were going after food all around, tailing, humping, even clearing the water completely. Yes, the big ones too. Sounded like kids doing cannonballs into the water, some of them did. I guess that’s why I couldn’t tear myself away from them after 3 hours of throwing dry flies, wet flies, nymphs, streamers, and what have you. Managed to get two strikes, and missed both. But finally I had to concede defeat. These trout are too educated, and I feel equally uneducated.
I left the pool to the jerk who moved into position less than 30 feet from me at least an hour before I decided to rejoin my patient wife. And this hits a really pet peeve of mine. What the &*#%$@** has happened to fly fishing etiquette? Does no one have any consideration at all for someone patiently trying to find the solution to catch a difficult trout? Were these people raised without any manners at all? I was in that position without moving so much as a foot in either direction, and people showed up both upstream and downstream as if they were simply walking into a restaurant or something. I had to modify my casting to keep from hooking the fool. Next time, I’ll see how close I can come without hooking an ear. I know it can only benefit my casting technique, which does need improvement.
Sorry for the rant, couldn’t help myself.
