I went down to the Yuba the other day.
I will try not to be too specific, (you know, potential crowds and all) but I drove on the south side of the river towards the west, dodging and weaving around the potholes and ATV enthusiasts for at least a mile or so, oops...I mean two miles, or it could have been just a quarter mile. I forget.
I parked near the river on some rocks, near that that big rock you can see if you drive near it. There are some bushes there and some other rocks too; some are round and others, not so. That is where I parked. The river here is full of water and it curves and goes straight in places, some sections are flat and smooth, others kind of bumpy. That is where I was.
I fished for a couple of hours that afternoon and evening and quite seriously, at that time, the Yuba can be an enchanting place. Often I will bring a couple of rods, one rigged for dries, the other for nymphs and when you know you are not going to hike far, this is an easy way to change presentation, if you will.
Or it could be I am old and lazy.
I brought four to the net that evening (no pictures - the members of this board and my family will just have to believe me. Or not - who cares?), my evening balanced perfectly, two on wets, two on dries. The flies? Olive Green Wooly Bugger and Elk Hair Caddis. I fished the bugger early, swinging it through the above mentioned flat and smooth place and was hit on the second cast. My second casts are almost always ugly - I am anxious and I have usually stripped too much line out - 40 feet of line in front of me and the cast goes about 20. I guess I have this idea that fish admire a good cast as much as me and disdain a poorly made one, so I am always surprised that I get a hookup on the ugly casts. The Yuba has some incredibly strong rainbows and these did not disappoint, great fighters, beautiful fish.
As the air and my skills cooled off, the bugs came out and I figured it was time for a beer and a change of rods. Pleasantly satiated, I imagined some fish rising and grabbed the dry fly outfit and waded in. Two to the net in the next hour, both on EHC (size 14, btw). It was quite late when the rise started in earnest, the best times seemed to be about 7:45pm to 8:30pm or so. It is pretty then and as I sat on the tailgate and took off my boots and waders, the coyotes serenaded me for a bit joined in a few moments by frogs and crickets.
It cannot get much better than that.
Yet, as I ambled home, I saw another fly-fisher casting, silhouetted against the waning light and it got a little better still. I wondered about the hobby, what it gives to me and how we talk about it. The internet is a cruel and wonderful place, an easy place to toss words and ideas about and too often a place where reason takes a back seat.
It is just fishing, nothing more and nothing less.
By the by, I am a member (so to speak) of some other Discussion Boards for other hobbies of mine and this issue of -whatever happened to the good/bad old days - is not unique to this place. It has something to do with lunar or astrological cycles, I think, the issue repeating itself depending on the moon being in the 7th house or some such. You could look it up.
But honestly, do not bother.
Go to the Yuba. Cast about. Listen to the coyotes.
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