Yes, yes last week the river was choked with silvers and a few steelhead. The water was perfect and the fished rolled on the surface. It was an enticing enough story, from my son, that I thought why not. I will try again to catch a silver on a fly. Don’t ask me why, but I have had little success over the years enticing coho to a fly in the frog waters of Fall. But, it was a sunny and hot afternoon, so I thought just go and wait for the shadows on the water and find a head of a drift with some flowing water and perhaps you can swing one through enough times to entice a hit.
My son, Tony and I headed out. Him still moving slow from a serious infection in his foot and me almost over a late Summer bug. It was, as I said, hot and as we boulder hopped upstream my ankles felt stiff and my balance tentative. I felt a bit dazed. I looked upstream to the intended water..right above Stella’s Drift, and it looked promising as the sun had already moved over the ridge casting the water into the shade. The river’s color was good and there was some flow to it allowing for a drift.
We arrived to the likely spot and we dropped the gear and grabbed a level boulder. First mistake, neither one of us felt up to wearing the Simms so we were bank bound and distance bound. Not so much Tony as he can cast and he had a floating line on. Me..why did I only bring a 200 grain line? AND, why or how did I mismatch a 10 wt. to the line. Wear was my 8 wt.? For the time I fished, I felt like I was waving a short broom stick with a string. The rod did not load for me and roll casts were frustratingly ineffective, even with only 20′ of line out past the tip. I moved the line through the drift ok, when I was fortunate enough to get the line out to the target…but the drift was slow enough that the inevitable hangups ensued and break offs. Ugh! And, I was not really over that bug. I sat down…I never sit down. I watched the water and noticed not one fish rolling. AND the obvious indicator not another fisher within a half mile. We were below the fish…not early…but rather bringing up the rear. Forgot our headlamps, so hiked out early. Actually, pretty early as I tired of waving the broomstick and string and it just wasn’t happening. Not a very auspicious way to end Summer, and I still have not perfected a Silver to a fly. By the time we made it back to the rig, Tony’s ankel was swollen and I was gassed. Should have stayed in the recliner fantasizing. Well, a Deschutes trip looms with Matt McCrary, so that will provide me something to help forget this trip.
Stella's Drift~Sandy River
