The new coot skin arrived! Yippee..my substitute for heron feathers – or so I was hoping.
This really wasn’t an experiment – as others have used coot for a variety of spey flies. But I had to see if it met my expectations of a good looking buggy fly with hackles that would stand up in the faster water fished this time of year.
Time to try it out.
The first outing confirmed it fishability and success. The half-pounders couldn’t stay away from it.
Somewhere in August a subtle change happens.One morning dawns cooler than the last.Maybe it lasts a day, maybe three, then the notion is lost in the incessant summer. Nothing of real importance happens now, except maybe noting a yellowing cottonwood leaf hanging from a branch.Finally, well into August, I realize there is no turning back now and the best time of year is at hand.
Over the hill and away from the coast, the relentless heat holds fast – lasting well into September and often October.I remember sunsets along the coast when far off webs of cirrus clouds would hold low on the horizon hinting at some far off storm and the reminder that winter is not far off.But these can be days of agony – days I spend with a sense that all of summer’s delights are now out of reach, even though I well know that many more weeks lie ahead.All the while, the fog-shrouded, chilly mornings I remember of seasons well underway seem impossible now.As the days go by, as summer hangs on, I wonder if they will ever come this year.Sometime, not long after, in a fit of desperation, the decision is made to make the annual pilgrimage over the hill, to return to the river.I do not have high hopes of hooking a steelhead, after all, summer is still holding fast.This is a journey to prove that something really is happening.Continue reading “On the Coming of Storms”→
Tuesday, August 19. I couldn’t resist the forecast: cloudy skies with a chance of rain. Yes, rain. Over the hill it had been pushing triple digits. Now, October-like weather was to make a brief appearance. I jumped on the opportunity – sneaking out of work a wee bit early, grabbing a rod and fly wallet and wheeling inland. The river temps were dropping to below 70 (ouch that’s warm water!!!), so hopefully any fish hooked and released were likely to revive. (check out temps at the Yurok’s Real-Time Monitoring Page).
Sure enough, cloudy skies prevailed, though the rain drops could be counted in the dozens (thankfully, because I had left my jacket back in the truck). What transpired shall remain unposted… suffice it to say there are a few early running fish in the river. I will leave it at that. Also of note is the lack of wind that evening – the normally ferocious and unrelenting afternoon winds up the river had been knocked down by the approaching storm. It’s so nice to leave the river at dark, warm and calm, with the crickets chirping amonst the dry grass. We just don’t get that here on the coast. I can’t wait to get back!