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View Full Version : How about "most forgetable" moment?



Gregg
02-11-2005, 10:33 PM
After posting on the "most memorable" moment, I started thinking about the most forgetable trip I'd taken. It was opening day on the Truckee last April. My brother, 2 friends and I decided to be morons and camp in April, right next to the river. It was the coldest night of my life! After not sleeping a wink (due to the cold) we drove to Starbucks in Truckee for coffee. The staff thought we were homeless because we looked so ragged. When we told them we were camping, they actually called us "idiots", and told us the temperature had dropped to 31 degrees. Oh yeah, and we didn't catch anything. I still don't know what we were thinking! :lol:

Darian
02-11-2005, 11:10 PM
Try this one..... About 1982, I went to Pyramid Lake in January to fish for the mighty/elusive Lahontan Cutthroat Trout. 8) 8) My first trip. 8)

I had no idea what we were getting into. :shock: The air temp at 8:00 AM in Sutcliffe was 10 degrees and breezy enough to form white caps on the lake. No snow as it was in the process of blowing away and sandblasting my face/hands. :roll: Undaunted and dressed very warm, I put on my jacket/waders and started out for the water. The first thing I norticed was the thick sheet of ice that extended out into the lake about 25 yards. :? Still undaunted, I walked out on the ice; jumped off into about hip deep water and began to strip line to cast. About this time, I realized that each time a wave washed up my waders and receded, it left ice on the front of my waders. :shock:

Made my final roll cast and a good double haul only to watch the line jerk the rod and drop to the water about 40' out. Checking the rod for the cause, Ice in the guides...... :x :x After it warmed up, the ice was less of a problem and I did catch/release a couple of 2 - 3 pounders. 8) It was too cold to appreciate how pretty those fish were. Went to Sparks to find a place where I could get a hot bowl of soup and sit in it..... :!: :!:

When I got home, I swore I'd never fish at Pyramid Lake again from December 20th thru the end of February...... That's one lesson learned. :lol: :lol:

David Lee
02-12-2005, 12:44 AM
This one's easy !
Years ago , a friend and I took a look at the map for the Feather ... We notice a few words in blue above the dot that is Gridley , they say "Excellent Smallmouth fishing" .

I'm stupid sometimes ....

Early October , 97 degrees .... I am wearing neoprene waders (its october , right ? The water MUST be chilly ...) , so we hike .
And hike .... and hike some more . Cutting thru orchards , we cover 3 or 4 miles up and start fishing . One 4 lb. Squawfish for my trouble (#6 Sculpin) .
So .... we make it back to within a half-mile of the truck - the water ISN'T cold , I've got a quart of sweat in each wader-foot , and dying of thirst is in the VERY near future .
Instead of taking the "long" way back , we follow the river .... Now , we come to a deep cut surrounded by a swamp ....

I told you I'm stupid sometimes ....
Take a step , sink up to your nipples .... buddy helps ya out , he takes a step , repeat ... To cover the 100 or so yards to the levee , it took 3 hours . I felt like it was time to see a better place , if you know what I mean ... Never thought I'd make it out alive .


Then , there was this time on the Bear ........... David

Hairstacker
02-12-2005, 02:38 AM
Well David, reading your account reminded me (I had successfully forgotten) of my worst trip ever. I had decided to fish the back ponds of Henry Coe (Gilroy) in the middle of summer. Parked at the main entrance, hopped on my mountain bike with one little bottle of water, and set out for the back ponds which were about 11.5 miles away.

Knew I had to make good speed, so went all out, only casually noting that I was only going downhill for the first 5 or so miles. On the way down, flew over the handlebars 3 times but fortunately only cracked one or two ribs. At the 7.5 mile mark, it was now high noon, 105 degrees out, and I was just about out of water. Fished a nearby stream, caught a squawfish, and decided to turn back. Ended up walking the bike uphill for 5 miles, stopping at each shaded spot to rest for 10 minutes before setting off for another 25 feet to the next shaded spot and resting another 10 minutes. Repeated this all the way back. Occurred to me several times that I was probably not going to make it and die due to heat exhaustion and dehydration. Eventually made it back alive. Barely.

Despite this harrowing experience, I made another attempt, this time successful. Bought a Camelbak and approached the ponds from the south entrance. The fabled ponds were just as described by others: the fish acted like they had never seen a fly before. Hookup on almost every cast. Still had to traverse what seemed like a mountain range to get there though.

Bill Quinn
02-12-2005, 12:38 PM
Three years ago I had the chance to test out my new (to me) Boston Whaler on Amador Lake. I was nervous about taking the boat out for the first time since I'm not the most handy person in the world. Clutz might be a more approproate word to describe my apptitude level when it comes to operating any kind of machinery.

I tried fishing in some coves and near the dam casting my 5wt Winston rod with no success. Well if my 5wt wasn't going to catch fish lets try the 6 wt with a different fly. No success. It wasn't long before I got bored casting so I rigged my boat with a sea anchor and started to troll with both lines out behind the boat (legally). I was really enjoying the boat at this point since the lake was quiet and the sun was shining and there was only one other fly fisherman in the area.

I laid my rods down on the deck of the boat, one on the left side and the other on t he right side close to where I was sitting. I was confident I was going to catch fish since I know the lake fairly well and I was working an area of the lake I have had some success. Sure enough, I hooked up not long into the troll. My rod moved with a lurch and the tip began to do its familiar twitch. I set the hook and it wasn't but a heart beat later the other rod made the same movements but more rapidily. I was so taken aback I reacted too slowly to retreive the other rod before it had slid to the end of the transom. I reached for the second rod while my other hand was holding on to the rod with the fish on the other end, too late. It fell into the water straight up and down with the reel section in the water the tip in the air. If the situation wasn't so dire I would have enjoyed the symmetry of the entry angle of the rod into the water. It tempted me to reach out to grab the rod, but I waved grabbing only air. I couldn't figure out how to manuever the boat to get close enough to grab it. It waited for me to take it back for what seemed like ten seconds and then said good bye.
The fish took the rod and reel to Neptune's den. I saw the flouescent green floating line sink into the darkness of the cold waters of Amador Lake. The only witness to this pathetic event was the other flyfisher who I'm sure was thinking what an idiot to loose a fly rod.

I was so embarassed and upset at the same time. What to do? I wasn't going to let this upset my day. I had another rod and a fish on the end of the line to boot. I played the fish out and I continued to keep fishing. I eventually asked the other flyfisherman that if he saw a Winston 5wt floating in the water to let me know because, well you know I lost mine.
Several hours passed and I caught some more trout so the pain of my loss didn't seem so monumental. I justified my outing by by cutting out guided days on the water I had planned in the future. Three less guided days would be enough to cover my losses, thats it, I felt better.

The other flyfisher came over quite some time after I requested his assistance and he said he thought he saw a floating line in the middle of the dam area. I quickly started the engine and shuttled over to the area. Mind you I was shooting in the dark. A fly rod on one end with a fish on the other, for all I knew the fish could have taken the rod to one of the coves or to the other end of the lake. I kept a vigilant search to find my rod. Well there is a God in Heaven after all. I peered through the water and I could distinctly see my fly line ten feet under the surface of the water. I almost had a stroke. I quikly grabbed my rod and swept it under the fly line and grabbed it. As I pulled the line up I could feel the trout on the end. I pulled and pulled and finally my rod came out of the water and into my hands.

What a day, my most horific day of fishing and my best day all in the span of four hours. I love the exhiliration of fishing less the added human error I add to the equation. Clutz.

Adam Grace
02-12-2005, 12:45 PM
Great to see you on our boar Bill :!:

Awesome story :!:

Did you end up landing the fish that took your rod :?:

Hairstacker
02-12-2005, 12:58 PM
Bill, I totally agree with Adam, that is a GREAT story! Especially enjoyed the line, "If the situation wasn't so dire I would have enjoyed the symmetry of the entry angle of the rod into the water." :lol: That is too funny!

SteelieD
02-12-2005, 08:15 PM
That is GREAT story!! :P I am still laughing as I type. Thanks for sharing.

Rob
02-12-2005, 09:54 PM
I went on a trip that was not a fishing trip but a trip to Cody Wyoming to photograph BigHorn sheep . A friend and I took two Mules into a wilderness area near Yellowstone N.P. On the forth day of scouting for Bighorn sheep we saw a nice Ram at sunrise at 11000 feet. After stalking him and taking rolls of film I looked at my watch it was now 4: 30 pm and we were miles from the mules in snow up to my knees. I had left my Day pack on my mule and had not had anything to eat or drink for 9 hrs and the 11000 ft. elevation I become so weak I could not walk more that 10 yrds without resting. If not for the pack of tumbs in my pocket I would not have made it back to the Mules or should I say mule, being one had come loose and was now 10 miles down the mountain by trailer. After eating and drinking everything we had on the one mule ,we took off for the trailer. Taking turns riding the mule we arrived back at the trailer around 1 am. This was in November and the temp was + 2 deg. I felt so stupid for leaving my fanny pack with my food and survival gear on the mule . I never do that. Lesson learned .

Here is a photo of the bighorn.
Take care .
Rob

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v636/rgkempton/DSCN0003.jpg

Darian
02-13-2005, 12:06 AM
Hi Rob,..... Glad you made it.... You certainly can be proud of that picture.

SullyTM
02-13-2005, 04:50 PM
I'm going for the 2-4-1 story...After being away from fly fishing for over 30 years I purchased a 6 wt outfit 4 years ago. The family vacation that summer was a camping trip to Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons. Two days before we loaded up the '97 Honda Civic I still needed a pair of waders...By chance I saw a pair hanging over a fence at a garage sale and they fit! Neoprene, made in England...I even got a used fly vest. All for $10. Since my fly fishing ability was raw at best I did alot of reading and not as much practicing as I should have...After about week in Yellowstone with no luck, but plenty of beautiful country, we got rained on big time and broke camp a day earlier than planned...Dried out at a dude ranch and got some directions for a great place to fly on the Snake River in the Grand Tetons...off the beaten path. When I located the "secret" body of water I was amazed at what took place. The river rose and fell before my eyes and as the river fell the trout all gatherd at the base of a condemned bridge awaiting brunch! I was litterly standing in them, changing flies every half-dozen casts, not knowing what to do(remember, I was just beginning my fly fishing odessey)...I never did hook one, however, I can still remember that day like it was yesterday.......Yes, I'll be baaaaack!....still have the waders but the vest is vapor.

Moose
02-14-2005, 04:53 PM
A few friends and I went to Loreto for some Dorado fishing and have travelled together before, everyone's pretty cool and we all get along well. We're a mello group and like to blend in and just fish and relax. This other guy we know, who seemed normal enough, wanted to come along and so we agreed, no big deal. We told him exactly what to expect (we go regularly) and what to bring. He couldn't join us on the drive down but would fly down a couple days after we arrived.

Well, this fool shows up with nothing but a change of shorts and less than half the cash we told him he'd need. He proceeded to turn into the "Ugly American" and would treat every person we ran into as though they were there solely to serve him and, of course, acted as though every one of the locals was beneath him. He lost a rod and reel to the sea, one the guide had to loan him, tangled lines constantly, yelled and swore at local shopkeepers, wanted to go to the brothels (that was not going to happen) and party, ordered drinks in nice restaurants and walked off without paying, etc, etc..

For the first couple of days we had to appologize and cover for this jerk constantly, then we began fighting with each other because one of us always wanted to beat the crap out this guy ( we took turns with this attitude) and the others would have to contain the current "Irate Other" in the party. Finally, with 2 days to go before his flight outta there we left him in town as he again wandered off. He showed up at the house in a taxi a day later, drunk and apparently in debt, and we denied knowing him to the cabbie but offered to pay the cab fair of the Dumb American gringo to the airport where, apparently, he slept it off until the flight home.

Never heard from him again!


I too had an experience like the above posted mule story.

In Idaho we rode a dozen miles into the Bighole mountains to bowhunt for elk. A friend lives in town there and we rented a guide to pack us in and had a drop camp set up, but our local buddy would not rent a horse since his wife had one. So on the first night we hobbled the horses and mules and my buddy says, "Hell, this ol horse loves me, he ain't goin nowhere".

Of course we woke up to find the horse long gone. Ol Wiley had to ride a pack mule all week and worry about the wrath of the wife when he'd return home without her horse.

The horse had walked home. She was waitin for him!

Hairstacker
02-14-2005, 05:06 PM
Moose, that is another GREAT story! "This other guy we know, who seemed normal enough..." just set it up perfectly. :lol: :lol: :lol: