Trip Report: Lower Stanislaus

Finally, back to my favorite haunt, the Lower Stanislaus. It was to be another hot day, at or near 100.

The day started off rather slow. In the morning, I was swinging various soft hackles in groups of two. I caught a couple of fish somewhere around 12 inches as I scurried the rocks in the deep pools. As the fish seemed to have lock jaw, I moved downstream to some areas I had never been. I actually didn't think access was possible, and never attempted to go down that far. However, it ended up being pretty easy at these flows and I found a spot with some fish that were actively feeding. I hooked a few, but they were able to rid the hook in short order.

I decided to move back upstream towards the dam and perched myself on a rock to cast all the way across stream for the biggest swing possible. At the time, I had a soft hackle in front, and a larger steelhead fly in back. I decided to do something I don't normally do, and it turned out to be an almost revelation.

Generally, the idea when swinging flies is to get them to swing as slow as possible. Potentially start with a dead drift so they can get some depth, then lower the rod tip through the swing to slow it down as it makes the trip back across the current to your side. For some odd reason, I decided to actually do short little strips. My theory was, that I'd fish that steelhead fly like a streamer through the deeper water. It had long spey hackles on it, and I figured the pulsating of those hackles would get a fish to bite.

Not long after doing this, to my surprise, I hooked a fish. He bit clear across the river, and I brought the 15 incher to hand. The whole time, I was thinking, I can't believe he went after that stripped size 4 stealhead fly.

However, when I picked him up, I noticed that he actually ate the size 12 soft hackle! Since when do fish go after a stripped soft hackle? I've been fishing soft hackles for years and years, and this is something that I rarely did! (Mainly because, the times I did it, it just didn't seem to work.) This proved key later in the day.

Another hour or two went by, and I had moved to another spot downstream. Which will remain nameless. By now, it was the hottest part of the day. Fish are supposed to be hunkered down. However, they weren't. They were keying in on a hatch and fish heads were exploding out of the water left and right. I mean, they were everywhere! I didn't know there were this many fish in the river, let alone in this one little spot. In any one instant, I could see two dozen fish breaking the surface. It was amazing. I have never seen anything like this on the Stanislaus. Come to think of it, I may of never seen this before, period! To make it even more incredible, were the size of these fish. These weren't dinks. They were decent sized of 15-20+ inch. At one point, I actually climbed up about 15 feet to get a good look and the water was filled with trout of all sizes. Hovering at various depths. Munching bugs on the surface and below. Incredible!

Needless to say, I was excited. I hurried to rig up some small soft hackles that somewhat matched size and color of what they were eating. Nothing! Not a single bite! I could actually feel fish hitting my fly line as they busted their way to the surface. However, no one was going after my flies.

Okay, okay, I had the wrong flies on. I changed it up. Same thing! I changed again and again. This went on until I had gone through literally, 15-20 different flies. I was deflated. They were so keyed in on the hatch, that they ignored everything else. And I couldn't get close enough to that food source.

I sat there staring at the fish exploding through the surface. Teasing me, and surely laughing at me. I actually walked away from this incredible hatch and went elsewhere. I caught a couple of fish in another area, but I couldn't get over that sight back in the last pool. So, I went back and tried again. Nothing, nothing and more nothing. It was hours later and these fish were still absolutely everywhere. They were gorging like there was no tomorrow (the hatch literally went on for hours during the middle and hottest part of the day!)

I started reflecting on the day and remembered that time I caught the fish by stripping a soft hackle. Since nothing else was working, I decided to try it again. I cast out into the hordes of fish and started doing quick short strips. WHAM! I caught a fish! What the??!

He was 15 inches and fought hard. When I took the fly out of his mouth, I realized he ate a size 10 soft hackle. Very much larger than the bugs that they were eating. Huh, whatever! I finally caught one of these guys.

I let the guy go and cast/strip again. WHAM! Even bigger guy. Two casts and two fish. Is this coincidence? After releasing him and casting a third time, I didn't make it 3 for 3. However, in the next hour, I caught at least 20 fish. All of them were around 15 inches, wild, and full of fight.

What is the moral of the story? When you think you know something, you really don't. I would of never tried stripping those soft hackles if it weren't for that steelhead fly I tied on earlier in the day. Now, I have a new trick up my sleeve. And you can be sure I'll do it again.

This turned out to be one of those epic days of fishing. Not only did I catch a boat load, but learned something in the process. This happened a couple of years ago on Cherry Creek, and I know how seldom these days actually come along. It won't soon be forgotten.