Let me begin with a warning for the fly-fishing purists: it is probably best that that you just skip on past this month’s column. Yes, it is about catching wild brook trout on a blue-line creek. Yes, there were dry flies involved. However, there was no fly rod present.
You see, I snapped the third section of my fly rod on opening day. It was a stupid mistake. This is why I can’t have nice things. So, that rod – my first, nice, fly rod ever – was, in theory, in a package to Orvis, and they would send me a new rod once they received the old.
Well, I got to thinking today that I had not received confirmation from Orvis. So, using the Track My Rod button on the Orvis email, I stumbled upon two 18 April 2021 notices from UPS that they had lost the rod, and would notify the shipper.
In the week since, they had not notified me, and Orvis said UPS had not notified Orvis. So, I spent way too much time today dealing with one very helpful, customer service department (Orvis) and another not-so-helpful.
But I digress.
Having no fly rod at hand and not being one to stand on pride, I took my ultra-light spinning rod, a tear-drop spinner and a mixture of flies I got for joining Trout Unlimited. I headed to one of Tioga County’s blue-line streams, meaning the trout therein naturally breed and are not stocked each year.
There is a lot of disdain in the fly fishing community for stocked fish. I fish stocked waters sometimes, but also natural waters.
I am quickly becoming a huge fan of these natural trout streams. The creeks themselves tend to be smaller, more easily waded or fished from the bank. They tend to be more isolated, steeper and rockier, compared to larger water like Pine Creek.
On this particular Sunday, the blue-line made me look like I knew how to fish. I caught and released two wild brookies, each 5-6 inches long, each stunningly beautiful.
I got those on the tear-drop spinner (a spinner trailing a fly), and then a rock ate the spinner. I was now reduced to trying to throw a fly with a spinning rod, which made me glad it was an isolated spot.
As ridiculous as I looked, I managed to fling a dry fly into a small eddy, and I had another brook trout for a few seconds. I was so surprised that my clumsiness had resulted in a decent cast, I half-froze looking at the fly sitting in the slow swirl, and I forgot to set the hook. I was well satisfied by that point, and missing the last fish was just a gentle lesson.
Orvis called again as I was finishing this piece, and a replacement rod will be here in a few days (my heartfelt thanks to Orvis). As fun as improvisation has been, I look forward to fly fishing with an actual fly rod, fly reel and fly line.
Of course, the rod is almost guaranteed to arrive the day before the spring turkey opener. Decisions, decisions.
An archaeologist, Chris Espenshade grew up hunting, fishing, and trapping in rural North Carolina. A resident of Wellsboro, he is a member of the Pennsylvania Outdoor Writers Association.
Credit: Source link
