My trips are usually about a 2hour drive in any direction and my time is extremely limited and often governed by health issues, so they can often be more meditative when they do happen than predatory, but seeing all these rises and knowing I had so many things in my favor this morning I immediately went into problem solving mode. Leader length, fly selection, position, stealth, etc. The first section I approached was a long, knee deep glide following a quintessential run/riffle/run a hundred yards up, so the bugs were there. Rings formed across the surface from immediately before me along the bank, to the far side, and from head to tail of the broken long pool. I took quite some time sitting and watching, rigging up, trying to decide which trout were approachable and which would spook first, also considering that if the 6-7" fellas were a bit splashy in their rises, where were their older peers sitting. It's the stuff that occupies my thoughts between lights out and finally falling to sleep. I decided to gently split the pool, carefully putting down a couple smaller guys close to me rather than spook them by casting over them or to them so close.
The first selection was an obvious #18 small black spider to match the midges. Just silk thread body and starling hackle in the film. As nicely as the new furled leader configuration seemed to be working out presentation wise, I couldn't get a take even with some of the medium sized browns that continued feeding. I worked this system, probably longer than I should have out of some frustration.
Approaching the water initially, the softer sounds of this glide and the very fresh smell of the new blooms and warmer Spring air, coupled with the patterns of regular rises promised some instant takes and a banner day. When that didn't happen, the reality of the situation slowly wiped the grin off my face. Sitting back to regroup and let things settle, I tied on a new pattern that I tied last night, nearly identical to my often touted "go to" #16 hare's ear and partridge pattern but with brown 14/0 on 1250's, dropped from the bend of a #14 wire bodied olive and starling. That did it. A bit of a deeper swing and I lifted the rod tip to secure a quick swirl toward the far side of the tail of the pool. Gorgeous color for such an early season brown. 8-9" and very satisfying to see. Taking some time to slip further up the pool an edge formed along a submerged log on the opposite bank and a steady riser, slower, maybe a larger cousin turned out to appreciate the same hare's ear pattern. He turned out to be a twin of the first trout taken, and didn't come to hand as gracefully as the first making a couple of runs and a splashy landing. This set me at ease, having figured out at least some of the mysteries. Maybe I would have been far more successful using a more hatch related offering or a more mature presentation, but I walked upstream happy enough. It would have been nice to see a real veteran break down that pool.
I only had a couple hours of water time if that before having to head back to Northern VA (I'm saying, my trips are short and too far between), so I wanted to try a more typical wet fly condition and moved above the pool to the series of riffles. So classic it would break your heart to see the water breaking in small peaks across the surface and forming seams exactly where they are supposed to be. The same confidence that I found when approaching the first section returned as this looked like a "can't lose" situation. Thwarted by a number of successive hang ups and wind knots, classic drifts would have to wait a bit. It was for the best too as I sat on a log streamside, replacing my leader rather than fooling with the whole knotted enterprise, I observed actual feeing in some not so obvious lies further down the seams than I had planned to work. I sat longer still watching to prioritize each position and the logistics of getting to each one. I am NEVER that patient or methodical. I am in my dreams. At the vise, yes, and on the drive there, yes. But knee deep, I rarely take that kind of time. There are a number of things in my life that have forced me to slow way down and be okay with extended periods of time and things that are beyond my control. An extra dose of patience and some better planning served me very well as it turned out. No takers to the “go to” pattern, and none as a dropper as I had expected.
So I went with a wild card. A #14 Yellow Cahill soft-hackle dubbed body over orange thread and mottled hen pattern. I tied 20-30 of about 5 years ago to match some Light Cahill’s collected in Central PA, or North Central. They shift quite a lot from region to region. But of all the patterns, I'm not sure why I chose it. I knew there were some Hendricksons about, or maybe there were, and the size and vitality of the fly would certainly be effective for this time of the season in this location, but mostly...I've caught a lot of fish on this pattern at different times of the year, In different areas along the East Coast , not usually hatch related and I have a lot of confidence in it. (I'll post a couple pics below, but doing so now would screw up the story.) So with the single S/H on a 10' nylon to flouro leader I approached the first seam from 45 degrees upstream and drifted the fly dead drift until it would just swing a bit before the located first target. With several more drifts I took soft steps further downstream and made the drifts a little longer with each cast when Wham! It came up out of the water more like a rainbow than a brown and looked pissed off. Another 8-9"er and just completely golden like a much older brown.
I wish I could say my last take was as methodical or deserved. It was not. I'm moving toward my next position, I cast across myself to drift down a log, not in my plan, but any other time would have been impossible to pass up. No take as my attention was toward my footing and the next position and as the fly dangled downstream during my "line management" phase of this procedure the line sprinted off back toward the log to the opposite bank. This happens more often than not, but always surprises me. He came to hand readily, and I was thrilled to meet him and let him go, but it wasn't exactly the take I dream about. Even still, when I was asked later how I did...I took two from the glide and two from the riffle, all just under 10" and all on soft-hackles. No reason to divulge too much in passing. I just gave the guy the Light Cahill pattern and started my hike back to the truck.
My time was up and I raced home to get the kids on time and ensure I would be granted permission to do this type of early morning trip again.
Here are a couple patterns. You've seen them before.
Black Starling 1120 #18
Hares Ear and Hen 1250
Starling Mole and Olive 1250
Light Cahill PA
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