December 13th The Riverkeeper's birthday--Volume 48 I always go fly fishing on my birthday. It just seems like the right thing to do. My destination is usually a river or flats far from home and is a trip I selfishly take alone. Solitude and a fly rod are always on the top of my gift list. This year, after much research, I couldn't come up with a piece of water that was fishing better than the stream that meanders through the valley that I call home. My good friend and partner for over a decade, John "Too Tall" Hagen, agreed that it was time for us to take a break from the guiding routine that filled our season and to take advantage of the fine forecast. As we began to rig our rods in the warmth of the Boxwood clubhouse, there was a special anticipation in the air and a few cupcakes with candles in them on the table. "What's up with that ?" John asked. "It's my birthday." I replied. "I'm sure Karen sent them down with Dan this morning." "If I would have known it was your birthday, I would have brought you some jerky or something." He said. I quickly produced a bag of fresh Boxwood mule deer jerky from my gear bag and pitched it at John. "Tell you what, I'll swap half of that bag for a few of those soft hackle Royal Whulfs' you've got hidden in your vest." I offered. "Deal !" he quirked. Too Tall had parked himself in the Convention Center Hole and was re-rigging as I strolled by. " 5X ain't gonna get it ." he muttered. " That one broke me off on the hook set. Where are you going?" " I'll be on Long Meadow. Check you later." Solitude was still in my game plan for at least half of the day. My agenda for the day was not to make random casts, but to choose fish carefully and to take as many trout as possible with the fewest drifts needed. ( I love to challenge my ability.) My first stop on Long Meadow was to be one of my favorite runs called the "Welcome Mat." It is a series of small falls, holes and riffles that channel together into a narrow straight run I call " The Sidewalk." It then joins the side channel of Long Meadow, sweeps around a bend and welcomes the water to the Boxwood section. Thus the name, "Welcome Mat." My pace quickened as the first of the drops came into view. In the glass clear water of the first hole I could see several specters of generous size slowly sweeping from side to side picking off nymphs that had drifted out of the riffle above. Another part of my perfect plan for the day was to use NO LEAD, NO INDICATOR, NO STANDARD PATTERNS I had fished on Boxwood water before and not to take any trout under 18 inches. ( I really like a challenge.) The first bug to pop out of my fly box was a # 8 Stonefly pattern I had picked up while on the Bitterroot years ago. A double bead thorax pattern that would assist my offering to the knee deep depth needed. The trailer fly became a dark ginger colored epoxy back nymph in a size # 16 about 18" from the Bitterroot Stone. Visibility in the pool had increased in the short time it took to tie my knots as I shopped for the largest finned shadow available from my position. You know that feeling you get when you see a trout of such wealth than it makes you uncontrollably drop to one knee? I don't remember doing it, but I was on my knees in a heartbeat. 17 to 20 feet away with shoulders as wide as my hand. " Happy Birthday to ME," I thought, as a began to peel line from my reel. The cast was a little left of where I intended but good enough for this old Bow. As the flies tumbled off of the self, he slowly swung over and inhaled the Stone pattern. Not sure of my hook set, I raised my rod and hit him again. Whether he was surprised to find a hook in his brunch or my second strike hit a nerve, he climbed up over the small falls exposing his back and tail and covered the 20 foot riffle like a shot. I love the feel of a smooth, silent reel when a trout is doing a wind sprint. Some 60 feet away now and moving fast, I decided to test his intentions by easing my drag forward a couple of clicks. Feeling the added pressure the Old Bow matched my move with another gear of his own. He had reached the base of the next riffle now and flipped a U turn so quickly that it made that loud whoosh-slurping sound, spaying water with his tail 180 degrees around his location. DEAD LINE. " Oh well, you can't ask any more of a fish than that," I thought. I wondered if he had broke the tippet or just spit the hook as I started to slowly reel in line. Then I noticed, the end of my fly line was coming back at me forming a belly of upstream slack. He was still on, and bum-rushing me fast. I began to strip line but he had a head start and was coming directly at me. I was just a little out of control as he blew past like a torpedo, downstream and into the narrows of the sidewalk section where the current speed triples. The fly line that I had stripped in and was laying around my feet now began to snake through my guides wildly and before I realized it, the reel engaged again. No choice now but to follow him like walking a BIG DOG on a long leash. Our encounter ended about 100 yards downstream from the point of introduction with the successful landing of a 6 lb. plus, 24", very tired rainbow by a rather jazzed birthday boy. I held on to his tail for about 5 minutes and watched his crimson gill plates pumping oxygen from the clear cold water. Just before he eased off into the shade of an overhanging willow, he looked at me. I swear, he LOOKED at me. Much has been written by countless authors about trout, their thought process, selectivity, and choice of environs, but I still wonder what that Old Buck was thinking when he looked at me. I swear, he LOOKED at me. I strolled back to the clubhouse where my partner John was still fishing in the Convention Center Hole. "How'd you do?" he asked. "Got one." I muttered. " We managed to cover about half of the water we wanted to that day but of the 103 other trout we caught, it was that first one that made my day of friendship and trout complete. I'm seriously considering having another birthday in, oh say, February. It should be awesome. Barry Conyers River Keeper I swear, he LOOKED at me.

Update from 06/30/2010 June....the month of higher water. It scares some anglers because they never learned how to catch fish in off colored high water....We only had about 3 days of really dirty water. Many of our guides love dirty water and consider it the time to land the really big fish...and it is but we only had a few days of run-off conditions Some big fish landed in June...28 inch Brown, 30 inch Rainbow, 8 lb Cutbow, 8 lb Brown, 19 inch Brookie. Quite a few 22 inch + fish were landed on nearly every trip. The fish were either eating real big stuff like streamers, or size 18-20 emerger patterns. We did land some fish on Parachute Adams and Beetles. If you want to land big fish book your next trip in June. Our guides will share their secret tricks with you for catching and landing big Trout in higher than normal off colored water.

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