It's Quiet When it Rains

I love to fish in the rain. Rain freshens the air and puts down the dust. Rain drives the people out of the mountains. Rain muffles the sounds of the woods making it peaceful and quiet. Where there's rain there's water; where there's water there's fish.

I fished a mountain stream that I just love. I don't get to fish it very often but when I do it seldom disappoints. As I have said before, I am pretty much a creature of habit. I tend to fish the same reach over and over until I know where every fish lies and how to approach it. But this time I fished a different reach.

When the water is low, as it is often is in Wyoming in the mountains in autumn, I prefer to fish with dark colored flies, but a UKB is always a good bet as well. The flies I used this trip did not disappoint.

I took wild cutthroats in all the usual spots as the rain fell gently around me.

One fish, the largest I took, hit my fly twice. Cutthroats are not known for their intelligence, but they rarely hit the same fly after they have been hooked and get off. This one did, however. I cast into a gin clear pool that had a low hanging conifer branch protecting it. I saw the take, but the fish was only on for a couple of seconds before spitting the hook. I then watched him swim back to his lair. I sat there for a few more minutes to let him settle down, then I cast, letting the fly drift right into his nose. He couldn't resist it. I watched him open his mouth and take the fly. After a short, but satisfying fight I brought him to net, unhooked him and let him go. I sat and watched him recover in the cold clear water, then swim away to be caught another day.

After my usual hour and a half I drove back to the cabin, made a nice hot cup of tea and built a fire. It was a very satisfying outing in the rain.