Doug Hathaway
07-20-2005, 11:24 PM
I took a few hours last Saturday and spent some time on a small but beautiful central Utah creek that my father in law introduced me to 33 years ago. I haven't been there for about 3 years and it was great to get back. My wife was with me and she went hiking to the top of the mountain, while I renued myself on the stream. My father in law has been gone for 10 years now so it was a good time to reflect on my experiences with him on this stream.
It was on this creek that I really cut my fly fishing teeth. Some 29 years ago I converted from being a worm drowner to the power of the fly. I have loved trout fishing my whole life and was fortunate that my father taught me to fish using a flyrod and a worm from before I can even remember. As such, it was natural for me to convert.
I had grown weary of always using worms, which the fish always swallowed to the gut, resulting in automatic death to the fish. Thus I had to keep eveything I caught. I always had to quit the stream when I reached my limit. On top of that, my new bride ( whom I have now been married to for 32 years) hated fish, so she didn't like me even brining them into the house.
Anyway, I had no one to teach me the fine tuning required to become skilled at fly fishing, so I read as much as I could and watched people on the stream when there was an opportunity and I taught myself. It was a slow process because I could not break away to spend the time on the river I needed. Over time I became rather discouraged, but I could never give up. It just isn't in my nature.
One day, while fishing with my father in law, (we were on this same small stream that I mentioned above), something clicked. I had been studying a bit about aquatic entomology and had learned about the importance of the caddis fly. So I picked up a couple of elk hair caddis at Anglers Inn. While I was out there that day flaying the water with some unknown fly and getting absolutely nothing, my father in law was pulling out trout after trout with his trusty worm. He never did worry about limits. I almost couldn't stand it. I nearly sank back to the dark side watching him.
In my frustration, I sat down on the bank and just sat there watching the water. After a while, as I began to calm down, I spotted a fluttering looking thing dancing across the water. It was bouncing from place to place with no real pattern to its flight path. At the same time, I noticed that there were a couple of trout surfacing and being quite splashy or agreesive about it. After a couple of more of these dancing flys passed by me, I remembered what I had read abut caddis flys. I reasoned that thee bugs must be caddis.
Logically, I pulled out my fly box and tied on one of the elk hair caddis flies I had brought. This was the experience that changed my life. I caught fish after fish after fish. I let everyone go, and that felt even more wonderful. (putting them back, drove my father in law crazy.) But it felt right. That was the first time that I started to feel the ryhthm of nature. If you have experienced it, you Know what I mean. I got so high on the experience, I still haven't come down and it's three decades later.
So, back to last Saturday. All these memorys came flooding back as I sat on the bank watching the water before I set up my rod. There it was again, the fluttery bug dancing on the water. I could only stay for three hours. It seemed like like twenty minutes. In that time I caught and released over fifty cuts between 8 and 14 inches.
Sorry about all this rambling. If it proves to be something that irritates others because of the length, that is ok. I will just quietly go away and be about my business. I am just that guy you see out there catching fish and enjoying life saying howsit going as we quietly pass on the river bank. I just wanted to share this with someone who may appreciate that all in all, it was a sweet day.
It was on this creek that I really cut my fly fishing teeth. Some 29 years ago I converted from being a worm drowner to the power of the fly. I have loved trout fishing my whole life and was fortunate that my father taught me to fish using a flyrod and a worm from before I can even remember. As such, it was natural for me to convert.
I had grown weary of always using worms, which the fish always swallowed to the gut, resulting in automatic death to the fish. Thus I had to keep eveything I caught. I always had to quit the stream when I reached my limit. On top of that, my new bride ( whom I have now been married to for 32 years) hated fish, so she didn't like me even brining them into the house.
Anyway, I had no one to teach me the fine tuning required to become skilled at fly fishing, so I read as much as I could and watched people on the stream when there was an opportunity and I taught myself. It was a slow process because I could not break away to spend the time on the river I needed. Over time I became rather discouraged, but I could never give up. It just isn't in my nature.
One day, while fishing with my father in law, (we were on this same small stream that I mentioned above), something clicked. I had been studying a bit about aquatic entomology and had learned about the importance of the caddis fly. So I picked up a couple of elk hair caddis at Anglers Inn. While I was out there that day flaying the water with some unknown fly and getting absolutely nothing, my father in law was pulling out trout after trout with his trusty worm. He never did worry about limits. I almost couldn't stand it. I nearly sank back to the dark side watching him.
In my frustration, I sat down on the bank and just sat there watching the water. After a while, as I began to calm down, I spotted a fluttering looking thing dancing across the water. It was bouncing from place to place with no real pattern to its flight path. At the same time, I noticed that there were a couple of trout surfacing and being quite splashy or agreesive about it. After a couple of more of these dancing flys passed by me, I remembered what I had read abut caddis flys. I reasoned that thee bugs must be caddis.
Logically, I pulled out my fly box and tied on one of the elk hair caddis flies I had brought. This was the experience that changed my life. I caught fish after fish after fish. I let everyone go, and that felt even more wonderful. (putting them back, drove my father in law crazy.) But it felt right. That was the first time that I started to feel the ryhthm of nature. If you have experienced it, you Know what I mean. I got so high on the experience, I still haven't come down and it's three decades later.
So, back to last Saturday. All these memorys came flooding back as I sat on the bank watching the water before I set up my rod. There it was again, the fluttery bug dancing on the water. I could only stay for three hours. It seemed like like twenty minutes. In that time I caught and released over fifty cuts between 8 and 14 inches.
Sorry about all this rambling. If it proves to be something that irritates others because of the length, that is ok. I will just quietly go away and be about my business. I am just that guy you see out there catching fish and enjoying life saying howsit going as we quietly pass on the river bank. I just wanted to share this with someone who may appreciate that all in all, it was a sweet day.