THE DAY TRIPPER FLY FISHING & FLY TYING BLOG

posted by Alex on Apr 28

I’ve never had a fish take me into my backing. There have been a few memorable fish that I haven’t been able to stop, but I usually run them down before my fly line leaves the tip top. I think my tendency to run after a hot fish comes mostly from dealing with all the timber back in Michigan’s rivers. There’s a bunch. The more line a fish has out, the more log jams it has a chance to get you wrapped up in.

And then there was Saturday

I meet up with Geoff, Robin, and Wiley on the Salmon River. It wasn’t supposed to work out that way, we planned on meeting at a nearby town and carpooling. After getting to the rendezvous point and waiting for about 10 minutes for them to show up, I realized I was supposed to be there an hour earlier. I had to make a decision. Do I stay local and go after warmwater stuff, or drive up solo and try to hunt the other guys down. As I pondered, I heard a knock on my window. I looked over and it was a 6′ tall steelhead.

“Can I help you?” I asked after rolling the window down.

“Yrgle, dloobo grgle dlub wub kulb glub kulb Altmar?”*

*If you don’t know steelhead, that translates to Yeah, do you know how to get to Altmar?

I don’t know how most people would have taken it, but to me, it sorta seemed like a sign I should head up to the Salmon River solo.

After scanning a few parking spots between Pulaski and Altmar for Geoff’s truck, I decided to fish the Upper Fly Zone in Altmar. About 5 casts in I hear, “What are you doing down there!” And look up to see Geoff, Robin, and Wiley coming down the bank. We said hi and all that stuff, then headed upstream.

5 casts later, my indicator hesitates, I set the hook and a descent steelhead flies out of the water. My reel dizzily spins backwards as the fish is taking it’s first run and it isn’t slowing down- the fish or the reel. I didn’t know the fish was going to take me into my backing, but instead of chasing it down or trying to stop it- I reached into my chest pocket and turned on my camera to get some video of the still spinning reel. I watched my fly line to backing connection fly off the reel through the viewfinder and figured I better try and fight this fish. I took off after it, picking up as much line as I could as I ran when the line went limp. I reeled all my line in and saw that the fish had broke me off. As I was making the decision to go up to 8# test, an ear to ear smile appeared on my face. It was stuck there as I walked back along the bank to rig back up.

A couple missed opportunities later, my indicator is bobbing along the current seam when my indicator didn’t even get a chance to hesitate. It just took off downstream. I set the hook and the fish just swam faster. I put heavy pressure on the spool as I palmed it only to get that good/bad feeling of the reel knob jackhammering my knuckles. With line still flying out, I took off after it. I was running as fast as I could, half keeping the line tight, and half trying not to fall on my face as I ran and hopped across the boulder strewn bank. After I made it downstream about 30 yards, I stopped and made a half hearted effort to turn the fish that now had rapids on it’s side. If it made it another 30 yards downstream, it would be taking me through what I call “the chute”. A spot where an already raging section of river narrows from somewhere around 80′ across, to about 20′ across.

You want to avoid the chute.

I’m already well into my backing despite chasing the fish and the chartreuse dacron is just whizzing off my reel. As I’m starting to run after it I turn to Robin and yell with a big shit eating grin across my face,

“It’s gonna take me through the chute!”

As I’m running I suddenly feel like I’m about to fall on my face unless I run faster to get my bottom half back under my top half. After windmilling my arms for what seemed like eternity, I regain my balance and to my surprise the fish is still ripping line off the reel. There are a couple guys fishing the opposite side of the river just below the chute. As I sprint past I hear

“See you in Pulaski!”

Out of breath, now laughing, I run another 30 yards and decide enough is enough. There are heavy rapids everywhere, but I spot a small pocket of slower water near the bank and decide this is where I’m making my stand. Everything goes perfect while my fly line slowly builds back up on the reel. Just before Robin and Geoff finally catch up to me, I pull the fish into the slack water and find out why it took so long to get it under control. It’s tail hooked.

All that for nothing. I could barely talk, I was so out of breath. My throat felt like it was on fire with each breath. With numb legs and sweat dripping off my face in the 80º heat, I made my way back upstream.

10 or so hours fishing, and I didn’t take any pictures(pics above courtesy of The Anglers Net Blog) I did get about two dozen video clips to add to a video I’m working on. I started editing yesterday, and surprisingly, have way too much quality content. A good problem to have I guess. To get to my target time length, I’ve had to cut stuff out that if you would have told me I’d be cutting it out after I filmed it, I would have called you crazy. Hopefully water levels will stabilize within the next few weeks so I can get some smallmouth and trout fishing footage for it. It should be good.