Watching the weather at five this morning I was pleased to see a storm-free forecast, even one promising very nice weather through the weekend. There was no sign of overnight rain here in Crooked Eddy, so I began thinking about which bamboo rod I would fish today: perhaps the Leonard 66… A casual check of river gages on my phone slammed that door shut quickly.
It seems that the heavy storms and flash flood warnings I saw just before retiring drifted more southerly than predicted, washing out both branches of the Delaware River. A quick look at the rivers above the reservoirs reveals they remain at low flows, so it doesn’t look like either reservoir will go into a refilling mode and impact the lower-than-normal releases NYC has mandated during this dry summer. None of the relief that cold water can provide seems to be on the table as we reach high summer, but there is far too much water in our tailwaters right now to even think about fishing.
No need to ponder rod choice, and there is no chance I will get a chance at one particular foe until sometime next week. Yes, I am pretty sure that I have had another encounter with the trout that shattered the tip of my lovely old Mills Standard.
Dropping a dry fly within six inches of the bank, I was rewarded with that soft, confident take my summer dreams are made of. I paused, then raised the vintage Thomas & Thomas into a full arch. In the same instant, I felt the power and heard the CFO screaming as line evaporated from it’s spool! I steadied my feet, palmed the reel, and finally turned him, then reeled just as fast as I could to regain the lost line and keep him under control. Well, perhaps control isn’t the right word.
I guessed the cover he was heading for once he turned, and I kept him short of that, settling into the part of the fight when the angler begins to get the upper hand, or so I believed. He passed in front of me at about twenty feet, giving me a good look at his length, and as soon as he slipped out of sight the hook came free. A moment’s leverage around an unseen rock I suspect, for the hook bend was opened up when I inspected the fly. Round two goes to that brown as well.
I really wasn’t expecting another chance at him so soon. Decades of experience have proven that some time must pass, days, weeks, even months, before I can expect to find such a fish in a taking mood. At least I walked away from this encounter with my vintage bamboo rod intact.
I am glad to have the rainfall, though I would have preferred it to fall over the watersheds above the Cannonsville and Pepacton reservoirs. Filling them up a bit would have caused the City to increase the releases for the second act of summer, providing better fishing along more miles of river. We will have better river flows once they recede a bit and clear, though it won’t be the frigid release water that stimulates good summer mayfly hatches. Ah, remember those?
Bright Waters Catskill 