Gas prices being what they are, I decided that up-north day trips were off the table this year. But the last three weeks--seemingly nonstop grading, prepping, and conferencing that now needs to be balanced with lawn and garden care, plus the frustrations of tending an ever-growing cadre of students determined to pass my classes without completing the bulk of the work--made me reconsider. I've felt beaten, burnt, and numbed, with two weeks of of the semester to go besides. But I had a relatively light weekend coming, and when I read a good report on the Gates Lodge website Thursday, talking up hatching hendricksons and skittering stoneflies, I decided to take the plunge. I considered heading up Friday morning and making a 2-dayer out of it, but when I got home Thursday night I didn't have the energy to start gathering gear. And there was work to do, so I made Friday a low-key recovery day, sleeping in a bit, working slowly through some papers I needed to grade, having a nice dinner with Kristine. Fishing is a fine way to clear the mind, though I'd rather let some of the fog drift away before I step in the water. Fishing is better when I am.
My boots found the water in the lower reaches of the mainstream Holy Water stretch a bit before 1. Lots of hendricksons in the air, some olives, and even a few black caddis, which over the next two hours became anything but few. The hendrickson bonanza I expected didn't happen--saw maybe half a dozen duns on the water all afternoon. When a burst of feeding began while no mayflies were in view, I tied on a hendrickson emerger and quickly caught three browns. After I released the third, though, I couldn't get another strike, despite trout rising throughout the pool. Then just a yard or so to my right I saw a struggling caddis pulled under by a small brook trout. Switched to a #16 black caddis dry, but was rewarded with nothing more than a few short strikes. Probably should have gone with the emerger, I chided myself, since the fish almost always prefer it. Almost always, but not yesterday. I got nips but no solid takes fishing two different versions. I fished through several pools of active fish, got blanked at each, and all the while the feeding was slowing down. Half an hour before, I'd believed I was on the brink of an epic haul--now I seemed headed for an epic humiliation.
But the fish have the final say about that, and as mysteriously as they'd spurned my flies earlier, they started to find them irresistable around 3:00. I ended up catching another dozen browns, 9-13", all on the dry. Tried the emerger again for the heck of it but couldn't get a take. Lost a few other fish, as well as a couple flies in the branches.
The action stopped by 4:30, and I already felt the trip had been worth it, but there was no way I was getting back on the road when there were still almost five hours of daylight, especially when the temperature had broken 70 and there was at least a slender chance of a spinnerfall. Had dinner in Grayling at Spike's, then went back downriver to a favorite dry fly spot. The bugs gathered in good numbers overhead, and just a few hit the water as darkness set in. Cast to one of the few risers I saw and immediately got a take, but when I set the hook an empty leader came sailing back to me.
It may or may not be wise to burn a tank and a half of $4/gal. gasoline for one day of fishing. But it is near-unforgiveable stupidity to do so and then NOT check the strength of the knots you've fished with for most of that day.
Two weeks until the official opener. Which, if my plans hold, should allow more than a day trip. If these next two weeks are anything like the last two, I'll need it.
It happens to be the seventh anniversary of this blog. Given my lack of attention to this undertaking, I don't know if that amounts to anything more than a factoid right now.
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