Saturday was one strange day. It started off pretty normal with Breakfast, loading the truck up, and driving over to the ponds on the ranch owned by the Bidwell’s. I fished pond #1. Pond one is called Pond one for a reason, the water is crystal clear and it is inhabited by trout in the range of around 16 to 18” on the small end of the chart, to mammoths trout that I have heard approach 30”. The trout are fished over on a very regular basis and have PhD’s in identifying naturals from artificial. Many can easily tell a Gene Mercer mayfly pattern from say an Andy Burke pattern. They normally take great pleasure in nudging your offering before refusal.
Anyways, I arrived close to 10 am. There was no real hatch coming off, maybe a few real small midges. I saw a couple of fish move over by the inlet so I paddled over. I put on my go too rust colored wiggle tail in a size 12. A nice fish rose, so I casted to him and dang, I had a short take. Now that’s the way to start a day. Third cast later I had him in the net.
I sat, watched and waited. Eventually another fish rose, and another. I casted between them, nothing. One of them rose again, I casted and he was on for maybe a minute before he tossed the hook. And so the next 30 to 45 minutes went, with 4 or 5 fish either hooked or landed.
Paul
Favoured: 0
