Are We There Yet?

Fishing Blog. Star date, April 3, 2011.

Whatever. Fishing at John's Creek was a myriad of emotions. Pain, hate, disgust, frustation, love, pleasure, relaxation. The day started off ok. After assembleing my rod and putting on a leader I hiked down to the creek, carefully observing, and seeing no obvious bugs except for millions ofgiant black flies, I tied on a fly and began to cast. I spent the next hour or so pulling my line out of the trees, bushes, and out from under rocks and submerged trees. Very frustrating. I hiked down the creek about a mile or so and really didn't even see any fish, just casting into places where fish might be hiding, and getting a few bites here and there.

I began to tire and get a little hot, so I hiked back to the truck, had some coffee and water, and moved across the road to fish a spot someone had told me about. Sure enough, there were lots of fish in it, and I got a few bites but couldn't land anything. And let me tell you why. I got my line hung on a log on the other side of the creek, and wanting to not lose the fly, which I ended up losing anyway, so I crossed the creek, climbed down right on top of the hole, and freed the line. So that hole was finished for the day.

There was nobody fishing the creek on the other side of the bridge, so I made my way over there, and the same, had a few bites, but nothing else. I could see some fish on the other side of the creek, but I couldn't get them to come out. It's not like I was the only one not catching anything, I didn't see anyone land a fish and there were probably 25 people out there.

I walked up the road where I could see the creek about 20 feet below. Behind a rock I saw something move so I stood there for a minute just to see. Then it turned and I could see the trademark stripe on the big rainbow's side. I walked a little further down the road and climbed down the bank. After tying on a caddisfly, I cast across to the other side of the rock and let it drift over him. He wouldn't take it so I soaked it with water and cast it over again and let it sink down going past him. He took it this time but when I gave a tug, he spit it out and the line snapped back into the trees, so I snapped it back the other way and the line wrapped around a bush next to the rock the fish was hiding behind. So he was gone.

While I was untangling the line, I realized that it wasn't even the same rock I had seen from the road and that I had a clear shot for it. So I cast over the rock and when it came over him, he grabbed it and took off. And then, line, leader, and fly came flying back at me. Lost him. I was fed up with those huge flies at this point, so I packed it up and headed for home.