In my last article I mentioned how I considered the Grand River my defacto “Home” river. The major reason that I do and why it was so important to my growth as a fly angler has more to do with the fact that it is stocked and provides a better opportunity to catch fish…or so I had thought. After purchasing my 4wt setup at a now defunct local fly shop, I headed home to practice casting at the High School across the street. I’ll get to this in another installment but practicing casting away from the river is the absolute best way to learn the rhythm and build confidence. Whether I overhand casting or spey casting, I always start my season in a field somewhere.
Once I got comfortable casting, I then had to figure out how to actually catch fish. The guys at the fly shop were pretty good on helping me but could be pretty arrogant about their prowess. I learned to live with while I purchased 4-6 size #20 elk hair caddis flies per trip. I felt pretty cheap but I had just graduated University, had a pretty big loan and could only afford that much. Thankfully, for my wallet and my wife’s sanity, I had yet to discover fly tying.
At any rate, I had always caught a lot of small stocker size (up to 12″) trout but had never caught one larger than 14″. It drove me nuts. I could find the fish but not catch them. I was terrible at nymph fishing and I found that browns on the grand didn’t hit streamers the way brookies did on the Credit or smaller Ontario streams. I learned to perfect different dry fly casts like the parachute and still nothing. Then I tried something I had never done before because I was too stubborn. I switched to gaudy sized streamers (size 4 and larger) of the muddler minnow, conehead wooly bugger and perch zonker variety. At least I’d have a chance at bass if I wasn’t going to get a trout. As I wouldn’t be getting to the Grand for a few more weeks, I decided to try my new skills in Algonquin Park. I would never be the same again.
My wife and I decided to head to Algonquin Park as it was relatively easy to get to from where we were staying. I took my clunky 4wt setup with me, used the clear intermediate line I bought in London, England (always check the bargain bin!), tied on a 5x tippet and the only white muddler minnow in my fly box. I didn’t even put on my waders as we were only going to be there for a few minutes and there really was no point. Due to the size of the fly and my terrible casting ability, I got hung up in a few trees and really struggled to get my fly out. After casting into the pool above and almost smoking myself in the head, I forcefully cast cross the stream and let me fly drift into the pool. After three short strips, WHACK! It was a hit I hadn’t experienced since my first Steelhead on a roe bag. After a good 10 minute fight (which felt like an hour!) I finally brought the fish to the net. Prior to this, the biggest brookie I had ever landed was about 8″. When I finally got the fish in the net I let out a huge yell and my wife told me that I was ridiculous. She asked me why I was shaking and then I told her about the tiny trout I’ve caught in the past and how this was unique.
I was ecstatic. This was, by far, the biggest trout I had ever caught on a fly and on a 4wt no less. I could not stop shaking and texted the picture to anyone who I thought would care. I couldn’t believe that I caught a fish this big in a little stream. It began my love affair with brook trout and increased my confidence and understanding of how to actually use the current to fish a fly.
So the next day I convinced my wife to join me again at the stream. I was taking no chances this time and brought my waders to wear into the water. On my second cast, I lost the muddler from the day before and to find another worthy fly. The conehead wooly bugger seemed like a good idea so I tied it on. On my third cast after going through the same silliness, WHACK! It was like deja-vu all over again.
It took me a lot less time to land it this time around as I was much better positioned to land it. That being said, I was still shaking like a leaf. My wife found the experience of the second fish a lot less entertaining than the day before but was still happy to see me so happy.
This was when I had the realization that maybe this whole fly fishing thing was not all about luck. All I had to do was get further instruction, figure out how to cast to the big fish and I’d be fine. I never had trouble finding fish, just catching them. I have never done something that got more enjoyable the more difficult it became. My love for fly fishing only grew and my patience got a lot better.
I hope you enjoyed this story. I have lots more misadventures to come.
Tightlines – Jim
sosflyfisher.ca 