Posted on August 10 2020
We have had six weeks of some of the best sulfur fishing I ever remember. Two hatches a day with lots of rising fish. It's been crowded at times but you can usually find a pool in the "Sulfur Zone" with plenty of both space and rising fish. So what's wrong? I'm tired of it. It's a same old, same old kind of thing. Love the bugs and rising fish but enough is enough. I fish five days a week and am use to fishing two or three of the rivers EVERY DAY. To be confined to a few short miles of the WB, no matter how good the fishing is, is like being on house arrest, it bores me silly. I've fished every inch of the river from the little gravel island up above the Stilesville parking lot down to the bottom of the "No Kill" so many times that I feel like I know every fish and that they know every sulfur in my box.
It's August 10th, my porch screens tell me that isos and cahills are hatching on the BR. We got the rains we needed to freshen the system, lower the water temps and start the fish moving back to their home pools but the Jet Stream remains up in Canada (probably doesn't want to risk catching Covid-19 here in the States) and the hot southern air has again heated the water temp up over 70 in most of the river system.
Whats a person to do? Tie more sulfurs, sneak off and fish the upper few miles of the UE and hope a blue norther comes down and puts some space back of the hills.
The fishing - After all that belly aching, it was good. Fished that place I've written about twice before, it has big fish, they didn't show on the second trip, today they did. Fished as well as ever I could until I'd made that perfect cast, under the overhanging willow to a dun sipping hog and just knew he was going to eat. He did but I was too quick for him. Can still the surprised look in his eye when I ripped the fly out of his mouth. Prior to that adrenaline charged event I had hooked and landed four quality fish. An 18 incher was fish of the day. The evening hatch started early (before I got there at 6:45). With thunder rumbling, I decided to wear my raincoat in lieu of a second shirt. There were only a few sprinkles and my new Panama Jack straw hat was saved from harm. Hatch ended early, my catch was confined to two year olds (some of which now exceed 13 inches).