Nature is a bitch. A mean and cruel and harsh bitch.
I suppose after so many trout sessions without getting blanked it was bound to happen, even to a guy like me. I was not skunked, but this is all I have to show for freezing my ass off.
So I got up a little later than I usually do to go trout fishing, but by 7 or so I was heading west towards altus and the North Fork of the Red River. I wish I drove past the exit and towards Colorado, New Mexico, anywhere but where I was heading. When I had read that this fishery “Isn’t the Prettiest Trout Stream” I had some pretty low expectations. Western Oklahoma is primarily flat prairie, but tucked in the southwest are a fair number of these:
When I get there it is starting to spit freezing rain and it is in the high 20s and the wind is kicking, thank god I brought my 6wt. As I arrive I see a few bait guys head out from their truck. When I finished bundling up for the elements and switched my new Smiths to the roseish lenses, I see all of the anglers return saying they had caught their one. I went ahead and bet that my best shot was close the the dam; I was kind of chickening out I suppose, but if it got too windy I wanted to have one trout in the bag because what I was looking at was the most featureless river I had ever seen. Loving the new boots I set stride for the dam.
I will generally start off with nymphing if I can, and today was no exception. I don’t mind fishing with buggers, but I do that all of the time for all sorts of fish. Nymphing is one of my favorite things to do, but I know I can always retreat to a bugger if needed. I realized as I stepped into the water that I soon would be switching to a bugger as there was really no flow whatsoever to the water I was standing in. Not only that but I couldn’t wade out more that 20 or so feet from the shore, and I could only do that in 2 places I had found. “Not the prettiest” is an apt way to describe this river, let alone in reference to a trout stream.
After about 20 casts of my nymph rig, and the indicator seeming to drift up stream due to the wind, I relent and put on a bugger. The river is dead and because of an early fall my gloves are toast and I wonder why didn’t I ask for some glacier gloves for Christmas. After an hour and half of pulling buggers in water that all looked the same, I decide it is time to warm up and see if the things are a little different down stream.
When I get there I see some locals under a bridge fishing a big pool, the whole thing is a damn pool actually, so I figure this might be a good spot. I would put up with the lack of solitude for a trout at this point. As I stand on the dam I cast everywhere above and below the dam and only get the a fore mentioned bluegill. As I am fishing a few more guys fishing power bait show up and actually catch a few fish each. So at least I know there are trout here, but why the hell can’t I catch one on a bugger? As it got colder, I got sick of the constant de-icing of my guides. I would have put up with it if I was catching fish, but it was getting tedious doing this every 5 casts. It was time to change gears. I am a lazy fly tyer and generally only have a handful of patterns I tend to fish and always have one or two new things. I have never fished a San Juan Worm or any egg patterns so I never have had to carry them. I really wish I had something, anything, that wasn’t your standard nymph pattern. I tie on my usual killer fly, an indicator, and some weight, already knowing I was completely defeated and I knowing I would have to return sometime soon to avenge myself with a better arsenal of flies.
Nature, and the stockers, kicked my ass this weekend, but I did get to play with all my new toys on the water. I love my new wading gear.. The new Pentax W30 preformed better than I expected given the low light conditions, but I didn’t get to try the underwater feature. Maybe after I get some new gloves.
December 23rd, 2007
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