Post by Fenwick on Oct 9, 2014 12:48:23 GMT -6
During the morning the Upper Spillway and Cardiac Hill stretch had lots of salmon egg bait casters filling stringers. Saw only two other fly guys. I got a few normal stockers on egg patterns. The pesky little ones are all pervasive and so they don't really count as part of the day's tally, they're just there and they are going to take your fly but they don't earn you any points. Was sight fishing to uncooperative larger ones. Kept changing nymphs, drifted right past them, no go. They were in feeding lanes but didn't care for any of my varied offerings. Ate lunch, moved to the Lower Spillway I hadn't fished in years, the stair steps of pools uphill from the Beavers Lodge Trail parking area, upstream from the Cold Hole. All very nice looking. I kept on walking up the hill, working pool by pool. Had the Lower Spillway all to myself. The construction scars are greened over and natures reclamation nicely taken effect. Beautiful. As I said, it's been years since I fished that part. It'll be a photographers dream when the leaves are in full Fall color. Observed the surface of the pools and slower water along the banks. No swirls, no subsurface takes, no surface sips or splashes all the while plenty of bugs safely floating by and flying away when they could've been gobbled up instead. Caddis were using me as a perch. Someone was sure missing out on plentiful surface snacks...or maybe I was hoping the absent rises would compliment the nice looks of the water which sure seemed to beg casting dries. I had been told "you shoulda been here Monday morning". Oh well. Caddis may have been on the menu and emergers and nymphs on my line but it was no go. Kept changing flies. Five drifts, nothing, change again. Took one on my Spillway "go to" fly, a soft hackle bead head hare's ear. At 5:30 I moved down to the pool at the end of Lost Creek. Changed flies over and over again but no go. The heron waded in as well but got nothing. Met Eddie Brister and his companions at the head of the Evening Hole as they were moving to Lost Creek. He mentioned the afternoon's fishing had been slow for his party as well. Now it's after 6 PM, the sun dropped below the hillcrest to the west of the Evening Hole. I had the whole length of the Evening Hole all to myself as I had the Lower Spillway. Nice. The ever present specks of gnats coming off the water as usual but not much else. Nary any surface breaks as I observed the entire length. The palominos are still there, appearing like specters in the now darkening twilight. They're moving but holding to the bottom, must be feeding but what can I offer that they can see since it's getting dark? I'm running out of daylight to see to tie a fly on so this is my last chance. I was bored by pink eggs and san juans. Ah, I've got a dozen flashy silver bead head, "shiny silver everything" crystal midges. Got two regular stockers on the first and third drifts. It was now too dark to tie on another. Time to end the fishing and to stand on the bank and relax and take in the sights and sounds of nightfall when the park reclaims the Evening Hole from we humans. That pleasantry was interrupted by a gent operating a front end loader working past sunset into the dark dumping and spreading heavy grade gravel repairing and improving the worn out, overgrown and mucky footpath running the length of the Evening Hole. That gravel path improvement will be a nice surprise for you on your next trip. All in all a slow day but nice that I had the Lower Spillway scenery and the Evening Hole all to myself, action or not.
- Fenwick
P.S. The horse standing in the middle of 37 about two miles west of Idabel added an hour to my drive. I'm just driving along when "Uhh, what's wrong with this picture?" occurs. Pull over, shoo her out of the road, she takes to eating grass on the north shoulder, I ring the Sheriff, others pull over, some cowboy good Samaritans who stopped find the break in the fence, got her back in and all ended well.
P.P.S. I'd be remiss if I didn't mention I saw a vehicle with a Texas Women's Fly Fishers decal parked at the Cardiac Hill lot. When I got to the water I saw what I guess was mom on the bank coaching her wading teen daughter who was wielding her fly rod according to mom's directions. Cool to see that fly fishing can be a mother/daughter experience as much as a father/son one.
