Fishing Journal-Week 11

April 26-Chuck and Duck

Full disclosure time...I try and avoid nymphing, especially double nymph rigs, as much as possible. I have no reason other than it's a simple matter of preference. For me my preference comes from the answer to these two simple questions.

1. Would I rather cast a double nymph rig, with split shot, and a thingamabobber, or a #20 dry fly. Uh, no brainer, I hate casting a double nymph rig.

2. Would I rather watch my thingamabobber disappear and quickly set the hook hoping my fly is in a fish lip and not caught on some moss on the bottom again, or would I rather watch a big snout break the surface and inhale my #20 BWO? Again simple answer...seeing the take wins every time.

But there is a third question that trumps all and will eventually get me to switch over.

3. Do I want to cast that pretty little dry fly all day over fish that are not rising and catch nothing, or would I rather catch a fish? Because I am stubborn, and a little on the slow side, sometimes it takes me longer than it should to ask myself this third question but I eventually come around to it.

Well it took me three trips to the river, and watching crazy hatches coming off with not a single rise, to finally convince me that I needed to switch up my game plan. I made up my mind before even heading out for today's lunch on the river that the first thing I was going to do was tie up my favorite torture device, the double nymph rig.

I only had a half hour to fish by the time I finished switching everything over. New leader, new tippet, new flies, Split shot installed, thingamabobber engaged...off to the water. I tied on a attractor nymph that I think works well for both caddis and midge pupa, and a nymph I like to use in place of a pheasant tail, and went to work. It did not take long. On one of my first drifts my indicator jerked sideways and I pulled in an extremely aggressive 17 inch fish with a deformed mouth. His lower jaw looked like it had fairly recently been injured so I released him without a photo to avoid stressing him further. A couple casts later I was into a bigger fish that fought by simply laying on the bottom of the river and not budging. I had to use a lot of pressure to get him to me. I finally had him ready to land when he decided he had enough and made a hard run straight away. Before I could react and give him line the hook pulled free. As I examined the carnage I found that the pressure I had been forced to use had straightened my hook. That last run was too much and finished the job.

As I walked back to the truck after another successful lunch break I examined my leader. Hey, only two wind knots! Not bad for me.