Comfort Place-Comfort Pace

Tuesday's rain all came and went Monday night, so its been a warm and sunny week.  I've seen more bugs and rising fish in other weeks, but the wonderful low flows, perfect temperatures, and a lack of crowds really can't be beat.  Other than some guide boats drifting by, I saw no other wade anglers Tuesday or Wednesday, spoke with one guy yesterday as he was leaving the river, and saw nobody today.  Rising fish all afternoon, every day, and nobody else around!  Looking up or down, there's always a target.

Every approach to all the skinny runs is greeted by massive wakes going in all directions.  Some are just unapproachable, and a guy has to get to the water.  A few fish stick around, and a few spooked ones come back or rise later below me.  It's challenging and makes me cringe sometimes.  A little noise on the line pick up, a little drag, a shadow, a reflection . . . any little thing and I see a wake.  Gone.  But there's plenty of targets and plenty of room to stalk another one.  Simply standing in wait at a perfect riffle often results in a target or two.  I see more bugs and more rising fish up river than down, but I know that water better too.  The fish are in the select, medium speed, shallow flats.  Today I fed some bank feeders in slower flat water.  It's not a river full of rising fish by any means.  They're in the fun spots though.  

The afternoons are as delightful as cool summer morning.  Mornings are crisp with no bugs, but I broke out the 5 weight a couple mornings and lured a few to rip after the leech.  Good wakes in this case.  By noon, I can fish from one baetis box.  Really.  I can, and have.  Mostly 18's.   No gloves. No handwarmers. No layers.  And dare I say, no wind!  Since Monday, there hasn't been a breath of wind mid-day through sunset.  Some wind at Camp Pelican this morning, and rumors of a cold front dropping through tonight with come clouds and maybe a sprinkle.  Nothing major.  No storms.  No snow.  No signs of typical mid-October weather. 

So here we are at mid-October already, me and Norman settled into a comfortable daily routine.  He eats breakfast before sunrise.  We sleep in 'till the sun is well up.  I have breakfast.  Morning play with the stick, and other energetic activity.  I go fishing while Norman naps.  He eats again around sunset, then runs and plays until dark.  I eat after dark.  A little picture stuff, maybe a Youtube TV show or vid, and we're both out until the cycle begins again.  Not a bad gig if you can get it.  The days pass by faster and faster, and the end of it all is right around the next bend.  (I know I've been saying that for a while now, but it'll be winter in a flash.)

Just below where Sheep Creek dumps in.  A nice little run with a side channel below the big rock.

Walking upstream from Sheep Creek

An accessible island at this flow, with fish around it!

Not a bad view either.  Tower Rock.

This has to be one of my favorite walks on earth.  Short, downhill, right into paradise and some of the best dry fly channels and flats on the planet.

The first view as the trail meets the river.  There's always a riser or three right here.  

The upper end of that channel, clear and skinny.

Looking down river into the prime shallow flat that has been loaded.  From here down, and around the corner, is all you ever need.

Once in a while you get one like a painting, only its real, with an Adams in its lip.

The bugs come in little bursts.  On this day, they were thick for about 30 minutes, crawling all over my waders, my glasses, and everything else. Then it was sporadic the rest of the day.

Happening

The Magnificent Seven, in no particular order of preference.  The best one each hour, or each day, was the one I had tied on.

This reflection says a lot.  Smooth water, no wind, and perfect conditions making it so comfortable.

The top of my favorite island on the whole river.  Its surrounded by big fish.

Bottom of the island, where the river merges back into one.  There's always a pod here.

The last fish of the week ending Friday came here, less than a foot off the bank, in inches of smooth water, with a challenging glare, the sun still up, and a fitting end of the day.