February 7, 2017 – Warm Rain, Rising Water, and Success with the Spinning Rod

One of 6 pretty wild browns to hand.

After beginning the new year targeting eager (for winter, that is) stocked fish, even catching double digits a couple times on the dry fly, a weapon I don’t use that often—mostly because I like to fish early in the morning and then get off the water before many hatches begin—I decided to fish a couple tough streams on my last two outings. Yesterday, I landed two wild fish in two hours of fishing, but one was on a dry fly and the other a streamer, so at least didn’t have to kneel in the weeds and tight-line midges for the day. Rain was in the forecast, and I was home in the morning doing some online work, so I was hoping I could sneak in two hours with the spinning rod and the CD 1 before going to the office. When I fish Valley Creek and other streams with mostly small wild fish, I tend to pinch the barbs on the treble hooks for quick release. The Rapala CD 1, like a spinner, only has one set of trebles too. Now, to be honest, if I have a chance at a 20 incher on a big freestoner, I probably wouldn’t pinch the barbs, nor would I be throwing such a small plug. I would also have a net with me, maybe…

A few were hanging in some warmer, darker, muddier flats.

It was raining pretty heavily as I parked and got dressed, but it took a couple hours for the rain to muddy the creek significantly. I was thankful that I put my waders on before taking the short drive to the creek (only the truck drivers know my little secret, as I probably look normal-ish from the waist up). I walked downstream a good half-mile, staying a long distance back from the water where I could, and began to fish when I thought I had walked off roughly two hours of fishing. The morning began slowly, even though the overnight temperature was mild, but when I reached the first decent hole after about 30 minutes of nothing, I hooked and briefly battled my first fish. If he were my last of the morning, I would have been salty at myself for dropping him after a short battle. When I switch between fly rod and spinning rod, there is a muscle memory learning curve, unfortunately. Thankfully, the first trout was not my last opportunity of the late morning trip.

This little one was colored up nicely.

There is no set rule for large fish equals hard hit. In fact, some big fish just slurp it in with barely a touch telegraphed up the line. However, when I get a hard jolt, I often think I missed a good one, when just as often it could have been a kamikaze dink unloading on the plug. Either way, I missed at least three fish who clobbered the plug deep in a hole or log jam, and I also dropped at least three more after a short fight. The fish here, even in the winter, tend to go crazy when hooked, and I often have to reel as fast as I can to keep up with the downstream runs and leaps and shakes. It’s almost as if they are taking advantage of my barblessness gesture.

Baby bass pattern plug? Why not?

After landing a few fish, I guess my hands were wet whether glove or not.

Again, dropped fish would have bothered me a little if I wasn’t fishing barbless hooks, and I didn’t end the short trip landing 6 wild browns up to 11 or 12 inches. I would have liked to have seen one of the ghost bruisers who only come out in cloudy water (or night, perhaps), but I was happy to have so much action and land so many beautiful fish in such a short, leisurely (minus the rain) trip close to home. I even landed a couple fish upstream of where I usually stop fishing. I was creeping into what looked like private property, so I didn’t push it, but it was encouraging to find a couple more holding spots to try in the future. Saturday may be my next opportunity, unless we get a snow day in SEPA on Thursday, of course.