Just Fishing

I awakened early as customary during dry fly season and decided to get ready and head to the river. With an eye toward current flows and the weather forecast, I figured this could be my last chance to fish our most historically heralded river until autumn cools it’s water once again. Checking the water temperature at Cooks Falls just now I found it pushing 68 degrees, too warm for trout fishing, so it seems I guessed right this morning.

The Beaver Kill hasn’t the cold dam releases of her related Delaware River tributaries, and we are thankful for that, though it would be nice to have fishing there throughout the summer. America’s first trout river should run wild and dam-free forever!

I was on the river by 6:15, taking advantage of the cool morning air and the cloud cover that would let me fish on into the afternoon. I knotted a sizeable rusty spinner to the tippet and worked some line out with the Leonard 50DF. Spying a nearby rise in the run, I drifted the fly through a few times. A trout rose to it, appeared to take it, but wasn’t home when I raised the cane to say hello. A short while later another quick rise drew my attention and my casts, one of which was rewarded with the wild runs of a big Delaware rainbow. A fitting trout to christen my new, old Leonard, the bow measured eighteen inches, a trout right in the top of the wild ride category. The wild rainbows of the Delaware River face months of warm water, thousands of anglers, and long migrations to summer over in suitable temperatures, and they are not long lived. A big brown trout has to stretch the tape to twenty inches to earn that moniker, but a foot and a half of bow deserves it as well. It is the 15″ to 18″ rainbows that will spool you if they have the notion.

I prospected a hundred yards or more of fast water, scanning the dark bottom areas for fish holding pockets, but none of the many I cast to provided a rise. Walking out, I talked with another angler who had arrived a few minutes earlier. Ron is a retired dairy farmer from upstate New York, and finally has time to enjoy his fishing. During our conversation, I mentioned the Catskill Fly Tyers Guild, and Ron asked me if I knew Tom Mason. He occupied the campsite right next to Tom and Martha during previous seasons. I told him that Tom was a friend and I had in fact seen him and Martha just yesterday at the Celebration of Life in honor of Mike Canazon. Fly fishing never ceases to remind us what a small world we live in.

On the way to what would be a crowded Mountain Pool, I stopped at another pool when I spied a lone angler. I walked down to the river sans rod and reel and found my friend Chuck Coronato and his wife. We talked for a good while as Chuck fished. Finding a small March Brown dun floating nearby, Chuck figured it was time to change his fly, and I suggested a 100-Year Dun. He produced one from his fly box and knotted it fast, then offered me his latest bamboo acquisition, a sweet eight-foot Heddon.

Well, a trout rose just then, I cast to him once or twice, and he ate that 100-Year Dun and dove for the bottom of the fast run. The stout fifteen-inch brownie put up a good scrap, and Chuck graciously netted him for me. After some more talk and fishing, I finally headed out toward my goal of Mountain Pool. I guess June 3rd is some sort of new national holiday, for I think I found every fly fisherman in the country crammed into each parking lot along the next few miles of the Beaver Kill. I backtracked and found Chuck taking down his rod with thoughts of finding a nice luncheon. While I was counting fishermen upriver, Chuck tied into a nice bow that showed him his backing twice! Wishing each other well, I headed into the pool while the crowd grew around me.

The sun had made an appearance, and as the late morning warmed past Noon there were fewer flies dancing on the water. I managed another pair of trout, foot-long brownies, between stalking a couple of rises that I guessed might be signs of bigger fish. As the sunshine strengthened, they quickly ceased their surface activity, and I decided to give them a wave and withdraw.

A pleasant day, a nice, unexpected visit with a friend, and a few good fish to make it interesting; just fishing!