One day ago, at a creek not so far away, a battle between man and fish was waged....
I arrived at 4pm hoping that the hazy skies and cooler temperatures would help the bite a little. What I found was astonishing. Bait fishers crowded the creek like zombies, stumbling out of bushes all around me moaning "fish braaaiins". Luckily my favorite spot was not infected yet so I stuck my elbows out and resolved to fish it more thoroughly if nothing else for lack of a better place to go. I tied on some 6x tippet and a #20pt with a #22 midge pupae dropper and began scanning the creek bed with drifts gradually increasing in length and distance. About 20 minutes in when my indicator was about as far out as I could cast and control properly I got my first take. After a solid hookset my rod bent lazily and I began to strip in line as usual. The fish felt like it was about 12" so I didn't care to take too much time with it. But as I began to pull and my line tightened, the increasingly strong head shakes telegraphed a different message. And then the fish jumped. It was a pig, and I mean a pig. This thing was such a hog it had full credentials to prove it! As the depth of the situation sunk in I felt a small wave of panic wash over me followed by a hot rush of adrenaline. But I had him hooked solid, and this kept me calm. I quickly pulled in the slack and got the fish on the reel, thinking to myself "finally, today is the day!" The monster trout swam back and forth across the shallow shelf as if trying to decide his next move while I reeled in steadily, remembering all the things I read you are supposed to do when you have a big fish on. "Keep pressure," I thought "lower your rod when he jumps". Up he went again this time cartwheeling more than two feet out of the water. I could not believe a trout that fat was capable of such feats. My heart was pounding and my breathing was staggered, but I had him under control. Then he made a run that forced me to laugh out loud. What power! My rod tip came alive like I have never felt it, and even the zombie bait fishers were beginning to take notice. In a fit of panic I loosened my drag, not wanting the fish to snap my delicate 3lb tippet. He made another screaming run that took my line way downstream, and then slowed up again. As I went to reel in and gain some headway my reel suddenly wouldn't budge. I glanced down to notice that my line had backlashed on the reel and wrapped itself in a tangled mess around the spool and handle! At this same moment the fish ran again. I leapt onto a rock and sprinted downstream to follow him, all the while trying to untangle the sinister coils that had wound themselves so tightly around my fate. But with every coil I loosed I could feel the line growing tighter. The head shakes alone should have been enough to snap my fragile tippet. I finally freed my line and the fish appeared to be tired and swimming towards me. I could still feel weight on my rod tip, but no more hard head shakes or thrashing. As my indicator came into view one of the bait fishers across the creek offered his advice, "dont lose him". But all I could see where a big, fat rainbow should have been was a dull, soggy clump of moss. I struggled to find words but in my state of mind all I could do was shake my head at the fisherman and utter feebly "I think he's off". "Well, get him again". He offered, and with that turned his head and went about his business. I sat there for about an hour before picking up my rod again. The rest of the day was kind of a blur, but I was able to land a few planters, each one like a bronze medal at the Olympics. I had my chance at glory, and blew it accordingly. Oh well, theres always another day. Needless to say I am a little bummed. I have hooked big ones befor but this was my first real chance at landing one.
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"when you put your hand into a flowing stream you touch the last that has come before and the first of what is still to come" -DaVinci
Charlie that was a great!!! Great story. And dont let it get to you either. you'll get em next time. One thing you said is you loosened your drag, that might of not been the best idea it allows the fish to take your line without working hard for it and they cant work hard forever. I love when they take line but make em pay for it, tire them out. Another thing is I try and hope they dont run far downriver because it seems like whenever they do I can turn them but with that much line out the head shakes almost always slip the hook, cant keep the line tight enough when the headshakes are that far away. Trust your line, it usually takes the most pressure in the beginning of a fight and if it passes the beginning trust it throughout. Keep it tight and keep their heads up. Next time my freind.
Yeah Charlie it's tough. Great story though. It has happened to all the guys I know out there on the creek. You have to take a deep breath and relax which can be tricky when a fish is tearing the rod out of your hands. The first one like that's the hardest. Ah yes, I remember mine like it was yesterday......anyways. You and Matt both have good points about pressure and drag. One thing for me is my knots. I always use a triple surgeon's knot and an improved clinch on my bugs. It was amazing how things changed after I switched to those. Keep at it.
Man, those are the ones that hurt ! Any estimate on the size of him ? I had a few really big ones break me off last winter and I still think about em regularly. I keep asking myself, what could I have done to land that fish, Well I have come to the conclusion there is an element of luck involved, Those putah creek bows around 20 inches and larger are just so damn strong.
I always freak out a bit when they run downstream - especially at Putah where following in the water and/or on the bank can be a real challenge. I love your dry humor about the bait dunker saying 'don't lose him'.
I had a similar experience a few years ago. Most of you know the spot - where the first longer run on the backside of the split narrows and funnels down toward the long run before the drain pipe. Right where it narrows there's a big pool on the other side (across the fast water and the creek). I threw my nymphs upstream into the tailout and they got nice and deep before hitting the funnel. I got a take, set the hook, immediately knew the fish was HUGE and if that fish didn't run to the far side of the pool before I could blink my name ain't JL. That wasn't a problem.. that was good, b/c the pool was dead calm... I could hold him in there for a while. Problem was as I looked down at the disorganized mess that was my fly line (long dead drifts will pile up your line), I noticed that my line was wrapped around the butt of the rod, and twisted once around the handle of the reel.
I thought, OK - i've got like a microsecond before this fish runs.
No sooner than I started to try to pull some line in so I could undo this little snafu... BAM the fish ran and was gone. Just like that.
Never saw the bastard - and from that moment forward I vowed to keep my line better organized so it couldn't tangle like that. That vow lasted about two minutes. I'd say excess line management is one of my worst skills. I admire the steelheaders who can hold their lose line in coils either in their mouths or their hand. Too much work for me.
This is Purlitzer prize winning stuff Chuck. Really great story. I have not hooked my "pig" yet, but my time is near... Too bad about the fish, but there are more than just one in Putah
well atleast you are hookin up, man if i could just feel fish on my fly rod i am happy i dont even care if i bring them in, a few jumps here and there and give me a fight i am a happy man, but to not catch a damn thing, and see them swimmin around, jumping, and eating of the surface that will make any sane man go crazy
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Fishing isnt about catching fish, its not about who caught the most, or who caught the biggest, its about the experience that you have on the water, and the life long bonds you make with others on the journey to becoming a better person inside.
Hey Brian I hear ya man. It's been almost a year now and I am just starting to put the pieces together and consistently hook fish. The first few big fish I hooked on Putah were gone so fast it left me wondering if I was just going crazy and imagining things. Being alone on putah in dead winter has that mystical, eerie quality to it that has you questioning your sanity every once in a while! But I think part of that is what draws people back, and the huge fish don't hurt any! Thanks for all your great comments guys, it makes me feel better to share my experience with you all. I may have missed out on a good fish but at least my father isn't Darth Vader and my fly rod hand hasn't been chopped off with a light saber and sent spiraling into oblivion! If you liked my story stay tuned for my next installment, Return of the Fly Jedi. he he Charlie
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"when you put your hand into a flowing stream you touch the last that has come before and the first of what is still to come" -DaVinci
