Sometimes the Fish Wins

Some of the best fishing memories are of the ones that got away. How big these fish were are left up to the imagination. On Labor Day I was nymph fishing a relatively shallow stretch of river. At the top of the run were the typical riffles that run over the rocks that lead into the run. On the far side of the river was a big bushy tree which gave shade to a portion of the river. My first drift through the shadows yielded no results. The river looked a little deeper closer to the bank but I couldn’t get a cast close enough to the other side because of the tree branches hanging down. I took a few steps upstream above the branches and cast closer to the far bank. Then I made a couple of upstream mends of the line, took a few steps back downstream and let the drift go underneath the branches near the bank. This did the trick. Right against the bank, tucked under the branches was the king of the run. Upon being hooked this fish took off downstream. I hurried to get the line on the reel and let the fish fight the drag from the reel. I wasn’t able to take in any line and followed the fish to the bottom of the run and past the next bend in the river. Finally it slowed down but as I started to catch up with it, it took off again. Again I followed but as I got to the next bend, the line pulled out of the fish’s mouth. I don’t know what I could have done differently. Sometimes the fish wins.

The next stretch upstream from where I hooked this fish had a deep hole where I expected to catch a few trout. After working my way through, I only caught one white fish.

 In the shallows above the pool, however, I hooked a nice brown. This fish did not tear off downstream but allowed me to fight it in the same stretch in which it was hooked and didn’t run downstream into the big hole I had just fished. After netting this fish I took the time to measure it, 18 inches. This made up for loosing that first fish.