EverGreen1231
Senior Member
After much personal deliberation, and a satisfactory number of fish caught on plugs, I finally picked up the fly rod again for a more existential fishing experience. I caught around 10 this weekend on flies and remembered quickly why fly fishing is personally preferred over spin fishing.
One of my favorite things to do with a fly is hunt bass by sight; making a beautiful cast to a fish you can see, and then watching him as he inhales your offering is bested by few other fishing experiences. I found this little guy hiding in the shade of a low hanging pine, presumably waiting for a small, unlucky bream to wonder too close. Getting my fly to him proved to be difficult but after a few unsuccessful attempts I finally got my fly under the limbs. I stripped it once, then twice, then three times; I saw him follow the wooly buggar as it broke through the edge of the shade. Whether it was the curiosity, or his hunger that finally provoked him to bite, I don't know, nor do I care: he opened his mouth and nipped at the fly. I didn't see the slight olive hue in front of him anymore so I'd assumed he'd taken it well. I set the hook and I had a little green ball of fur, feathers, and hook hurling towards me. He didn't take it. I watched as he slowly retreated back into the safety of the shadows and knew that he was now primed to bite. I stood on the dock and watched him, letting him rest. I made a few false casts and placed the fly back underneath the shade, not as far as I had the first time but, apparently good enough. I let the fly soak for a few seconds, letting it rest on the bottom, and gave a slight tug on the line. After another brief pause, I started to strip the line again but felt the tell-tale weight of life on the end of the line. I set the hook, and, this time, he had taken it well. He came crashing out of the shade and into open water (typical of small fish). After a sporting fight and several runs right at the dock's edge, I reached down and pulled him out of the lake; admired him for a few moments; took the chance to snap a few pictures; and released him, irretrievably, back into the lake.
Another attribute of fly fishing that I love is you never quite know what species of fish has made your line jump. This bream was caught in the same area as the bass and put up an impressive fight for his size, though that's no surprise, bream never disappoint in that area.
I'd also had a first this weekend: I tied my first fly. Admittedly it's not beautiful, and poppers are notoriously easy to tie, but I'm no-less proud. I used the hair and feathers off of an old, black Deceiver I've had for a while; I also added a few pheasant feathers I had lying around from a friend of mine that raises them. I don't think they add anything of fish catching value to the fly, but they give me more confidence and a more personal feel to the whole experience of trying to trick a bass with it.
It was a lot fun tying it and the reward I felt when I caught fish using it is difficult for me to describe...let's just say,I felt proud; but not in an annoying, prideful way that a baseball star brags about himself; but in the warm, respectful way the parent's of the baseball star brag about him. It felt nice, and I will be doing it again (I'm going to tie a crawfish for chobrown since he sent me a lot of feathers from a dead, and, most likely, delicious turkey
).
Thanks for reading and happy fishing.
God bless,
-Tyler Glenn.
One of my favorite things to do with a fly is hunt bass by sight; making a beautiful cast to a fish you can see, and then watching him as he inhales your offering is bested by few other fishing experiences. I found this little guy hiding in the shade of a low hanging pine, presumably waiting for a small, unlucky bream to wonder too close. Getting my fly to him proved to be difficult but after a few unsuccessful attempts I finally got my fly under the limbs. I stripped it once, then twice, then three times; I saw him follow the wooly buggar as it broke through the edge of the shade. Whether it was the curiosity, or his hunger that finally provoked him to bite, I don't know, nor do I care: he opened his mouth and nipped at the fly. I didn't see the slight olive hue in front of him anymore so I'd assumed he'd taken it well. I set the hook and I had a little green ball of fur, feathers, and hook hurling towards me. He didn't take it. I watched as he slowly retreated back into the safety of the shadows and knew that he was now primed to bite. I stood on the dock and watched him, letting him rest. I made a few false casts and placed the fly back underneath the shade, not as far as I had the first time but, apparently good enough. I let the fly soak for a few seconds, letting it rest on the bottom, and gave a slight tug on the line. After another brief pause, I started to strip the line again but felt the tell-tale weight of life on the end of the line. I set the hook, and, this time, he had taken it well. He came crashing out of the shade and into open water (typical of small fish). After a sporting fight and several runs right at the dock's edge, I reached down and pulled him out of the lake; admired him for a few moments; took the chance to snap a few pictures; and released him, irretrievably, back into the lake.
Another attribute of fly fishing that I love is you never quite know what species of fish has made your line jump. This bream was caught in the same area as the bass and put up an impressive fight for his size, though that's no surprise, bream never disappoint in that area.
I'd also had a first this weekend: I tied my first fly. Admittedly it's not beautiful, and poppers are notoriously easy to tie, but I'm no-less proud. I used the hair and feathers off of an old, black Deceiver I've had for a while; I also added a few pheasant feathers I had lying around from a friend of mine that raises them. I don't think they add anything of fish catching value to the fly, but they give me more confidence and a more personal feel to the whole experience of trying to trick a bass with it.
It was a lot fun tying it and the reward I felt when I caught fish using it is difficult for me to describe...let's just say,I felt proud; but not in an annoying, prideful way that a baseball star brags about himself; but in the warm, respectful way the parent's of the baseball star brag about him. It felt nice, and I will be doing it again (I'm going to tie a crawfish for chobrown since he sent me a lot of feathers from a dead, and, most likely, delicious turkey
Thanks for reading and happy fishing.
God bless,
-Tyler Glenn.
Said something like "Fly fishing for trout is poetic, for bass is existential, for panfish is comical..." etc.
