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Feeding Frenzy

September 23, 2017

September 21, 2017

I felt like I missed out on the beetle opportunity this past Sunday on the Rush so I headed back  today armed with some floating beetles and sinking Trico flies that I tied late Wednesday night.

The day was perfect.  Cool morning.  Still.  Kids fed and off to school. Pondered how lucky I am on the way there.  Grateful that I’m not in the Caribbean getting pounded by hurricanes.  Not in earthquake ravished Mexico.  Great to be out in the open air, under clear blue skies.  Good tunes. An eagle overhead.  Not hobbled by old age.

Wish You Were Here

The rush to work/ it is a sight to see/a sight to flee/a roar to hear/traffic jamming/you yawn in my mirror

Gun.  Club.  Lake./ Black mirror calm/96: 11-12/A Psalm

Wood duck on wing/glimpse an eagle/feet in the stream/beans in my teacher eyes/once green/now harvest yellow/somewhere in the distance/hear the herd/a moo/a bellow.

No cemetery/church/school/nor office/just an outlaw, countryside ridin’/Tompall/Jessi/Waylon/Willie in my ear/earthquake/hurricane/old age/forget it all/forget the pain/wish you were here.


On the water by about 8:15 a.m.  The first two hours were futile.  Not many risers.  Big pods of spooky fish in the slow, deeper water.  Alert loners cruising the shallows.  The beetle…no takers.  Disappointing.  Brought my spinning rod for a few casts.  Couple followers.  The water is low and clear.

A few fish started rising in the faster water at about 10:30 a.m. and I switched to a tiny Adams and a Trico. Caught one small fish a few minutes, in but the trail went cold.  Tied on a different Trico pattern.  Stealthily, I moved slowly upstream.

The number of rises were growing in frequency as more spinners appeared. Actually, it reminded me of making popcorn on the stove. First, a sporadic kernel or two explodes. That is then followed by a more steady burst of popping kernels before the heat unleashes a barrage of rapidly exploding kernels, the top of the pot pinging until the ammunition is spent.  The last few stray kernels pop reluctantly until removed from the heat and the contents are dumped into the bowl.

That is how it was on the water today. All of a sudden it looked like a school of piranha  attacking some helpless prey in the riffle upstream.  The water was writhing with trout slashing at Trico spinners.  Flinging my Adams and Trico into the fray I was soon on a fish.  Just like that I caught seven scrappy browns, plus one little brook trout, missed at least that many strikes, and busted one off.  The riffle was a complete frenzy. I must admit I’ve not seen anything like it.  The fish had plump bellies as evident by one of the photos below.  Then it stopped, just like when popping popcorn.

I wanted to give the sinking Trico a shot.  However,  duty called and I headed to work as planned.  Unfortunately, I nicked one fish in the gill and it didn’t survive.  The first trout I’ve kept in over twenty years.  Only one thing to do: grill it and have tacos.





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