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Asters are in bloom and the Sumacs are nearing their peak.

Posted on September 24 2019

If you were looking for my report yesterday - there wasn't any.  I had fished for 7 straight days and thought clean underwear might be in order.  Put up two tree stands and had Monday lunch with a couple of my old friends. They pointed out that it was the first day of fall.

 Driving back down late  yesterday afternoon I realized that this is my last regular week on the river this season. Bow season starts next Tuesday and I will spend a lot of time sitting in a tree watching nature and just reflecting on life.  My birthday is March 30th so I am born again just in time for trout season but every year in the fall, when the bright colors are gone and the first snows come - I get a year older.

The fishing: I'll admit it, last Monday's fishing bonanza got me out of whack. Had one other good day out of seven. The rest of the days were but three to four fish.  At first you make excuses,  waters too low, too much sun, too many fishermen, muddy water in the WB and BR.  Finally you start to realize what's happening. Last week I went out early in the morning and quit after less than an hour ( no bugs or fish). I also mentioned how things shut down early a couple of nights. Tonight I stood in a pool and watched the water go by with no frenetic last hour feeding.  We have transitioned to the fall mid afternoon (2:00 until 5:00) bug hatch and trout feeding. It's Hendrickson season in reverse.

Today:  With a cloudy day at last, I left early anticipating all afternoon olives. Drove through several showers on the way to the BE where I planned to fish my way upstream pool by pool all afternoon.  First pool, the sun came out, not a bug to be seen.  Rose four fish on four different flies (none of them ate).  Second pool, bright sun and WIND, it was hard to even get my fly to land.  Sought shelter from the wind and found a quiet pool which upon close examination of the surface film, had an amazing variety of  food options for the quietly sipping trout, none of which could be tied on a hook as big as a twenty. I guess it was because of the clouds but every big fish in the river was up sipping.  In three hours of constant casting at rising fish,  I fooled six of them and landed three.  I felt I did good. A beautifully colored and heavy bodied 19 inch brown was fish of the day.   


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