Still Playing

I havent been able to devote as much time to married wings as I would like, but here are a couple that I tried. I love the looks of guinnea fouwl, but finding matching pairs in my stash is virtually impossible. The other key thing I'm learning is having quality materials to work with can make the difference. The key factor with that being said is to know what to look for in quality materials. I hope to address this soon, since I'm still learning myself. The heads on these haven't been coated and look a bit rough...next time

A Good Friday It Was

With the unseasonably mild winter and little snowpack/runoff the spawn has started early and I've struggled to break free and get some time on the water. Well Good Friday allowed me to clear to clutter from my head, try out my new vehicle (to ensure it's fish trekking worthy), and get some swing time with two hands. The ride there was perfect since the new ride now has a working stereo and I was able to get my mojo grooving to a stellar version of Trane by Govt Mule 8-19-00 Allen Woodys last show before his untimely death. I had offered to fish with a New Englander new to the Salmon River, but never heard from him. A solo mission it would be.....perfect for mental clensing. As I pulled into the Pineville parking area and was stringing my rod when an older style compact motorhome from New Hampshire pulls in next to me and the driver asks if he can ask a few questions about the river. I said sure....is your name Russell?....a blank stare came across his face and said yes. Sure enough it was the guy and his buddy Lance that I was to meet up with originally. We chatted a bit and I gave them a rough breakdown of the area. They were more nymph drifting oriented and we parted ways with the plan to meet up later. I headed up stream and was fishing the tailout of a pool right before the spooky water. It was cool and crisp, the sun was peaking the tree tops and the swing was perfect when the purple winged Claypool connected with a rod wobbling dropback. Back she went, a bit on the smallish side, but exactly what I needed.

I fished down a bit further then trekked upstream to the meat of the pool. I started swinging Malinda's RBT spey tied on a shank. Before long the rod wobbled in chaos again and a decent surface roll showed the slab of a nice fish and the adrenaline flowed. I got the bright sided hen almost to the bank as I tried to get the camera out....she made a dash upstream and I went around a partially submerged log only to have her swim under an unseen log and the battle turned to panic as I watched the rod tip go under the log. I was certain the tip had broken and I was in recovery mode to salvage the pieces. I set the rod on the bank, said screw the fish and grabbed the line and started a hand retrieve and the fish broke off. Thankfully the fish was the only thing that broke. Rod still intact, I was adrealine doped and realized this is why steelheading is what it is.

Doing Battle with the second fish. I never got to meet back up with Russell and Lance, but they managed to get into a fish or two. We all agree the drift boats are a pain in the ass, especially in low flows (285 cfs).The rest of the day was spectacular but fishless and I appreciate every experience regardless of the outcome.

Russell with a sweet Salmon River Steelie

Mono Ball From Hell