Bonnie Anderson
09-25-00, 02:57 PM
WARNING: Don't bother fishing the Hootch for a couple of weeks. All the fish were caught at least once on Sunday by Julie Tallman. They probably won't fall for another fly for quite some time.
Julie and I did a two-part marathon float starting at the dam and ending up, finally, at Settles. Long day. Well, long day for me. A really long day. As far as Julie was concerned, it could have gone on for many more hours! She reports it was her best day of fishing ever.
Julie caught so many bows and browns that she lost count. I could count the ones I caught on two hands: two fingers on the left and one finger on the right. Two were 15-16 inchers, big and fat, but...
The Hootch was extremely stained and covered with fog throughout most of the day. We (ok, ok, JULIE) had most success with big WBs... purple, black and olive. At some point (in my pathetic quest to not be so horribly embarrassed,) however, I tried just about everything in my box... and left more than half of them on the bottom. (Next week I'm floating with Scuba gear.) I'm certain the water level rose about an inch from displacement.
So, Julie could do no wrong on Sunday. She had the magic.
In trying to figure out why I was such a loser, I came up with the following solid, tried-and-true reasons:
1. As someone in the teaching profession, Julie knows how to deal with things that school better than I do.
2. The fish knew I was using a borrowed rod.
3. The sun was in my eyes.
4. The fog was in my eyes.
5. The strings on my racket are old. (Oops, wrong excuse file.)
6. The fish were more attracted to the "Yippees" and "Yeehaws" coming from Julie's direction than the "harrumps" coming from mine.
7. The fish could hear me sing to myself.
Maybe I oughtta go back to worms...
:)
B
Julie and I did a two-part marathon float starting at the dam and ending up, finally, at Settles. Long day. Well, long day for me. A really long day. As far as Julie was concerned, it could have gone on for many more hours! She reports it was her best day of fishing ever.
Julie caught so many bows and browns that she lost count. I could count the ones I caught on two hands: two fingers on the left and one finger on the right. Two were 15-16 inchers, big and fat, but...
The Hootch was extremely stained and covered with fog throughout most of the day. We (ok, ok, JULIE) had most success with big WBs... purple, black and olive. At some point (in my pathetic quest to not be so horribly embarrassed,) however, I tried just about everything in my box... and left more than half of them on the bottom. (Next week I'm floating with Scuba gear.) I'm certain the water level rose about an inch from displacement.
So, Julie could do no wrong on Sunday. She had the magic.
In trying to figure out why I was such a loser, I came up with the following solid, tried-and-true reasons:
1. As someone in the teaching profession, Julie knows how to deal with things that school better than I do.
2. The fish knew I was using a borrowed rod.
3. The sun was in my eyes.
4. The fog was in my eyes.
5. The strings on my racket are old. (Oops, wrong excuse file.)
6. The fish were more attracted to the "Yippees" and "Yeehaws" coming from Julie's direction than the "harrumps" coming from mine.
7. The fish could hear me sing to myself.
Maybe I oughtta go back to worms...
:)
B