We've all had those times when the stars aligned, the fish were hungry, bugs were active and there was something cosmic in the way it all came together -- sometimes in ways you didn't expect. For me, it's been an epic Baetis hatch on the Green River in June or a crazy PMD/Caddis hatch on the Owyhee or a weird emergence of some unknown bug on Matt Warner where the fishing steps up to an almost surreal level of fun. And the fact that it's something 100% totally unexpected and unplanned creates a whole new sense of excitement.
This time it took a lot of driving, braving a hurricane in Hurricane and listening to some helium-induced horrid whacked-out singers at the pizza joint -- but it was worth it.
The Southern Utah bass trip had started a little slow the first afternoon. The bass were deep and my fly rod wasn't getting the job done. So I switched to a baitcaster and landed a nice little bass on a whacky-rigged Senko. My first fish ever on a baitcaster. Pretty fun, actually.
Next day, we motor over to some weedy flats and start to see some bass hanging in the brush. They weren't super-agressive or hungry so when we came upon a nice school of bluegills, we switched over and started pounding them. Cheech was drop-shotting a mixture of flies and I was fishing Chironomids under an indicator. (If you ever wondered what Bluegill like to eat -- even when they're picky -- see my previous
bluegill chironomid story). For better or worse, my new Bass fly rod got broken in with a plump bluegill and many of his friends for the next couple of hours.
Anyway, back to the story...
As the bluegill onslaught continued, we heard a big splash closer to shore. Cheech says it's a bass. I didn't think so. A few minutes later, it happens again. And again. This time, it's pretty obvious the splashes weren't coming from the annoying ducks. Moving in closer, we realize there were a lot of bass that had moved into the shallow reedy flats. "Cut off your fly right now", Cheech yells at me. As he handed me a huge nasty dry fly of some sort, I did as I was instructed. The fly now attached to the end of my tippet was a big foam dragon fly imitation. Time to match the hatch, sucka.
Sneaking the boat a little further into the reeds, we see a few deeper channels for the boat to snake along. The splashes become more and more frequent and the dragon flies more and more actively buzzing around trying to get it on with each other. I throw the big bug back into a shallow weedy area (weedless hook) and it lands a few inches from a bass. The fish slowly swims up to it, looks it over and gulps it down. Fish On! Not. Didn't hook him. Tried it again with the same result. The 3rd time he just swipes at it and swims off.
Next cast goes a little further to the next weed and reed clump. This time the bass didn't hesitate or look it over too closely. The take was savage and the fish fought like a demon all the way to the boat. This was fun!
(note: the fly in his mouth)
For the next two hours it continued like this with bass taking the ol' dragon fly dry. Absolutely amazing. Any time you would see a dragon fly or dragon fly pair buzzing over the water, you'd see a few bass stalking them. The flats were alive with activity and we were following them around and casting to them. I would cast Cheech's foam dragon fly, it would land and be attacked and devoured by a hungry bass. We even saw some 3 to 5 lb fish jumping out of the water to grab dragonfly couples in mid-air, effectively ruining their post-coital embrace. No wonder they liked this fly.
Finally, the wind came up and blew off the dragonflies and the only fly I had was missing a set of wings on it's side and it's weed guard was all bent out of shape after having been smashed by so many attacking fish. It didn't float well any more anyway. Out of respect, I retired it to my hat where it will cheer on future generations of bass snagging dragon fly imitations...
