Fellow Addicts:
Headed to the "J" below Barree with Acristic Kid for two days...great time, prolific Grannom activity each morning. Upon our arrival, the water was somewhat high and tinted. Before rigging up we debated whether or not to head upstream and see if the water was less roiling. Well, after seeing/hearing a few risers right by the bank we decided to stay put. Spoke with an older man, who was modeling his own, homemade Richardson chest box (neat, huh?) we started casting around 10:30 as Grannoms were still hatching and no, the hatch was not finished! They were definitely a size 14.
I tied on my trusty leadwing coachman with a peacock soft-hackle dropper. On about the fifth cast a 17.5 rainbow drilled the coachman, lept out of the water twice and fought desparately. The Kid, thank you, got a great picture. But, wait, boys it gets better. Maybe two cast later, a bigger bow drilled the soft-hackle with extreme prejudice. I worked him hard to my feet, when his (or her?) sheer weight busted my clinch knot. I estimate the bow at just above the magical 20 inch mark....and I do not, I repeat, do not, exaggerate my measurements. I always try to be very conservative. Anyway, the hog looked like a steelhead. The Question: Where? Were they Donny Beaver fish? Stockers from below? Extra-terrestrials from Trout Planet? Who knows......we did not catch any more of these guys.
Camped at Greene Hills campground: nice place, they're redoing the septic system so it's kinda torn up right now. The tent sites were right by the river, but in need of new grass. Only $14 bucks: showers, toilets, retired guys in pull-trailers. YOu know the normal thing.
Next morning the Kid and I drove just above the camp to the bridge and the Grannoms were hatching, with many risers. We both did well, 10 and 7 respectively. The Kid worked his #16 caddis larva under, while I picked up two on soft-hackle swings, three on top with #14 grannom, #18 Little Black Caddies, and on a whim, #16 Goddard caddis in a back eddy by the sheer limestone cliff. Just a toss, let it sit, take two drags on a cig, and watch as a 14 inch brown swims over, looks, and eats it.
I was able to have four or five brownies hit my dries on long cross-stream casts, but the heavy current prevented hook-ups.
We then headed upstream from the bridge for a few more hours, picking up some more in the fast water behind "Downtown" Barree.
Great time and far more enjoyable than the 3 andhalf days spent on Pine creek. Indeed, as the Kid says, "Why fish anywhere else?" Indeed.
Mr. Lynch
Headed to the "J" below Barree with Acristic Kid for two days...great time, prolific Grannom activity each morning. Upon our arrival, the water was somewhat high and tinted. Before rigging up we debated whether or not to head upstream and see if the water was less roiling. Well, after seeing/hearing a few risers right by the bank we decided to stay put. Spoke with an older man, who was modeling his own, homemade Richardson chest box (neat, huh?) we started casting around 10:30 as Grannoms were still hatching and no, the hatch was not finished! They were definitely a size 14.
I tied on my trusty leadwing coachman with a peacock soft-hackle dropper. On about the fifth cast a 17.5 rainbow drilled the coachman, lept out of the water twice and fought desparately. The Kid, thank you, got a great picture. But, wait, boys it gets better. Maybe two cast later, a bigger bow drilled the soft-hackle with extreme prejudice. I worked him hard to my feet, when his (or her?) sheer weight busted my clinch knot. I estimate the bow at just above the magical 20 inch mark....and I do not, I repeat, do not, exaggerate my measurements. I always try to be very conservative. Anyway, the hog looked like a steelhead. The Question: Where? Were they Donny Beaver fish? Stockers from below? Extra-terrestrials from Trout Planet? Who knows......we did not catch any more of these guys.
Camped at Greene Hills campground: nice place, they're redoing the septic system so it's kinda torn up right now. The tent sites were right by the river, but in need of new grass. Only $14 bucks: showers, toilets, retired guys in pull-trailers. YOu know the normal thing.
Next morning the Kid and I drove just above the camp to the bridge and the Grannoms were hatching, with many risers. We both did well, 10 and 7 respectively. The Kid worked his #16 caddis larva under, while I picked up two on soft-hackle swings, three on top with #14 grannom, #18 Little Black Caddies, and on a whim, #16 Goddard caddis in a back eddy by the sheer limestone cliff. Just a toss, let it sit, take two drags on a cig, and watch as a 14 inch brown swims over, looks, and eats it.
I was able to have four or five brownies hit my dries on long cross-stream casts, but the heavy current prevented hook-ups.
We then headed upstream from the bridge for a few more hours, picking up some more in the fast water behind "Downtown" Barree.
Great time and far more enjoyable than the 3 andhalf days spent on Pine creek. Indeed, as the Kid says, "Why fish anywhere else?" Indeed.
Mr. Lynch
