Well the Stonefly season is but a distant memory here in Central Oregon. While I did not get out as much as I would have liked I did manage to get out a few times to spend the day with these incredibly large and intriguing bugs. These photos are from a trip some friends and I took to the Lower Deschutes River. Stonefly season is hard for me to let go of and I will think about it for the many months to come. Dreaming of stealthfully working my way through the tall grass along the river bank looking to slam my fly on the water below overhanging tree branches. Maybe bouncing my fly off of large rocks and into kitchen sink size eddies waiting for that eager oversized trout to engulf my offering. At least there are more bugs to chase and I am positive I can find a way to "distract" myself until the big bugs come back around.
2 comments:
MY FIRST VISIT TO THE DESCHUTES RIVER WAS DURING THE INFAMOUS SALMONFLY HATCH AROUND 10 YRS AGO. I HAD RECENTLY MOVED OUT TO THE NORTHWEST FROM NEW YORK AND MARRIED A LOCAL OREGON GAL. FIGURING IT WAS PROBABLY AS GOOD A TIME AS ANY TO TAKE MY WIFE JULIE DOWN TO THE DESCHUTES TO SHOW OFF MY SELF PROCLAIMED FLYFISHING ABILITIES.. GRANTED I HAD NEVER FISHED THE RIVER BUT FIGURED IT WOULD BE A RELATIVELY EASY QUARRY WITH SUCH A BIG BUG TO TOSS OUT TO HUNGRY TROUT. AS I CASTED MY FLY ALONG THE BANK WITH STEELY EYED ANTICIPATION AND A SOMEWHAT COCKY SMIRK ON MY FACE FIGURING I WOULD HAVE A FIELD DAY WITH THESE FISH... IN A MATTER OF MOMENTS MY FLY WAS SLAMMED LIKE NEVER BEFORE AND THE FISH WAS HEADING OUT AND DOWN RIVER LONG BEFORE I KNEW WHAT HAD JUST HAPPENED..AFTER REGAINING MY COMPOSURE THE FISH WAS STILL TIGHT ...THEN IT SCREAMED TO A STOP I STOOD THERE WONDERING WHAT THE HECK HAD JUST HAPPENED TO MY LINE IT JUST WENT SLACK ...I LOOKED UP A MY WIFE ON THE BANK WITH A BLANK EXPRESSION ON MY FACE AND MUMBLED SOMETHING ABOUT THE FISH MUST HAVE GOTTEN OFF....AS I STARTED TO STRIP IN THE SLACK I BOWED MY HEAD DOWN STARING AT MY BOOTS LOOKING RATHER DISENCHANTED WHEN I NOTICED A FISH WITH MY FLY BETWEEN MY LEGS......AS I NERVOUSLY STRIPPED FASTER AND FASTER UNTIL THE TROUT REALIZED WHAT I WAS DOING AND TOOK OFF UPRIVER TURNING ME INTO
A PRETZEL OF A SMART ALLECK NEW YORKER KNOW- IT- ALL FLYFISHERMAN...MY CARING WIFE TOOK A PICTURE OF ME TWISTED UP WITH LINE ALL MY AROUND ME AS I STRUGGLED TO MAINTAIN SOME SORT OF DIGNITY...I SOMEHOW MANAGED TO BRING THAT FISH TO HAND AND WHEN I DID I PICKED HIM UP OUT OF THE RIVER AND LOOKED INTO HIS EYES AND I COULD SWEAR HE HAD A SMIRK ON HIS FACE LIKE I DID WHEN I TOOK MY FIRST STEPS INTO HIS RIVER....
Richard,
Great story and very well written. I would bve interested in seeing pictures and hearing more stories. Maybe a Glassy Waters post? Email me at flyfishnwood@yahoo.com if you are interested.
Thanx, Thom
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