Contrary to the fishing report, contrary to the water level report, contrary to the guide reports, and contrary to the weather reports, we decided to hit the river this past Sunday. The water was up, to say the least. It was the dirtiest, the highest, and the fastest I've ever seen the Current. We paid for it with blood, bruises, broken rods, and big browns. It was a day to remember.
John ("JD"), Joe ("Trip"), Johnston ("Stone") and I hit the Current this past weekend. Armed with sinking lines and huge streamers, we went for the big dogs. Our 2.5 hour drive to the river at 6 a.m. could have turned out to be completely worthless but we needed a fix. I needed a fix. It's been since March since I've caught a trout and I didn't really care about the conditions. We rolled out with hopes of hitting it big on heavy tackle and really, really large streamers. We were pleased with the results, despite sacrificing a little bit of ourselves and our equipment to the river.
The river was moving. Enough to the point where US Forest Rangers were patroling in a 16 foot john boat powered by a jet outboard keeping floaters off the water. In fact, a large group of floaters (15+) who had come down for a week long float had to delay their departure from Baptist when the "fuzz" motored up stream as they were about to put in. I felt bad for the group. I couldn't imagine anything worse than being forced to delay an amazing float simply because Rangers didn't think it was safe........Oh wait a minute, their layover was on one of the best trout rivers I've ever known. Beats sitting at a gate in the airport.
When we arrived, we decided to stay as far upstream as possible. The thought was that there were fewer tributaries and drainage ditches dumping muddy water into the river. It was a complete gamble. Stepping into the water, I was seriously nervous. I basically convinced these guys that it was okay to go. To spend an entire Sunday fishing on a river that was borderline unfishable. I jumped into lead water thinking that if anyone knew where the fish would be it was me. I wanted to break the ice so everyone knew that we had not made the drive in vain. I casted and casted. I had two pretty sizable fish roll on my streamer, but I didn't land anything. After 200 yards or so of ripping streamers with a couple strikes, I decided to change flies and run the same stretch again. I slid up river past the boys, and Stone and Trip leap-frogged me. That's when the first good strike of the day came. Bang!! Stone was on the board with a good brown.
Trip hit next as JD and I hung out up river enjoying our surroundings.
As the day progressed, JD and I got more serious about fishing. It did not pay off. Stone and Trip kept landing fish.
The day proved to be particularly bad for me. Despite landing some non-picture worthy fish, I ended up losing the magnet for my net, breaking my 6 wt., and taking a fall so hard on my knee that I missed two days of work this week. Strangely, all of this happened in the same spot on the river.
After the morning, we moved the car and fished down stream. About 200 yards from the car, I was adjusting my net and the magnet fell off into a heavy riffle. Gone instantly. About five minutes after that, my fly got hung up on a log across a very deep run. When I gave it good tug (and I had 1X flouro on) the fucking rod broke in three places. Must have been a manufacturer's defect right? I scooted back up to the car, grabbed a spare rod, and we fished down stream quite a ways.
After the morning, we moved the car and fished down stream. About 200 yards from the car, I was adjusting my net and the magnet fell off into a heavy riffle. Gone instantly. About five minutes after that, my fly got hung up on a log across a very deep run. When I gave it good tug (and I had 1X flouro on) the fucking rod broke in three places. Must have been a manufacturer's defect right? I scooted back up to the car, grabbed a spare rod, and we fished down stream quite a ways.
At one of Stone's favorite spots, down from my hell hole, he managed to land several fish including this big 20 inch female.
In light of Stone's pig, he and I volunteered to run upstream to shuffle the car so JD and Trip could streamer fish their way down another mile or so. It proved to be pretty productive for them--not so much for Stone and me. We were in a hurry because we both wanted to get another hour of fishing in before we had to go home. We were trucking through the woods. When we got to a place where we had to cross the river, I jumped out in front charging through the water like a fucking grizzly bear. Apparently, I'm not a grizzly bear. I took the digger of all diggers. I tripped on a submerged log and when I fell I threw my hands up in the air so as not to destroy another rod. This caused the entire weight of my body (215 lbs) to land on my knees; specifically, my left knee which happened to fall squarely on a pointed rock. I ripped my wading pants, split my knee open to the point where it probably should have been stitched, and I bruised my knee so bad that I couldn't walk for the next two days. Guess where all this went down? The same fucking place where I lost my magnet and shattered my 6 wt. I think the Current River Gods are telling me there's a very serious fish I need to catch in this hole. Wishful thinking right?
Anyway, I iced my knee on the way home and, as of now, I should be ready for my tarpon trip this weekend. Back to Location X. I'm really pumped. Hopefully, in a week or so I'll have forgotten about my knee due to a few 100 + lb tarpon on the end of my line.
P.S. Never under estimate the power of the Current River.
