Now this fall has really kicked my ass. Now we aint talking about an on river ass kicking or anything, were talkin about a hike in, knowbody fishes spot that tried to kill me throwing me down a bank and falling on my good knee (the one without screws in it). Now if that shit wasn't bad, I had to do it on a week stretch off and a couple weeks off my annual Nez Perce Fishing Extravaganza. Sitting on my ass for several days with my mangled quad and torn up knee left a lot of the domestic duties us married guys have put to the side. Bullshit because I got this fishing trip coming up and we know the shit will hit the fan if things don't get gone.
To make a long story short, my cantaloupe sized knee held up and got better, and the wife didn't divorce me for leaving her and the youngling at home. Though she should have for more reasons then one, her stubbornness reminds me of why I married her in the first place. This is yet another story in itself.
Jarrod Black on the Snake
Driving up the magnificent Snake River on the way to camp and guys who have been on the river for days brought anticipation and a mind trip around swinging a dryline in the cold productive waters of Eastern Washington. I aint going to lie, it was good, first fish in the first pass after getting to camp then it got stupid. River temps were 40 degrees when we got there and the best fishing was had then. Fish moved in in large numbers and with the first cold snap of the trip, the fish stuck around and were grabby. The slow but productive fishing the boys had before the A-Team got there was good, but it was only getting better.
Keith Darnall with a spunky monkey.
By the end of the week the river temps rose from 40 degrees to 56 and the fish were more on the move. We had to work hard for fish compared to the first day on the water, yet still better then the good fishing had all summer. After several productive days I noticed several changes. The bitch ass subtle takes became aggressive, the surface activity increased and even the October Caddis started to come out. The larger patterns went back into the box, the heavy lines were put away and after seeing the legend Harry Lemire rise two fish to a dry in the evening, the dry line came out. The next morning led to some epic dry fly fishing and it continued for the most part for several days.
Harry Lemire giving a lession on dry fly fishing. He had a bit of a crowd watching him.
Content with the success at hand and having several days left, and not wanting to be the stereotypical steelheader who lost their family along the way, I called it quits. The fishing was getting better but thoughts of family, home and the responsibilities came calling. Though leaving several of the boys behind, priorities led me a warm bed and spoonin with the wifey.
The rise to this Steelhead Bee is still giving me wet dreams.
Oh and Lee, you are a fucking asshat! Learn how to cast!
4 hours ago