djamieson
05-08-2005, 06:45 PM
Considering all the fine mountain streams and spring creeks that VA and MD have to offer, I hadn't tossed a fly on any put-and-take trout streams since I left the shoulder-to-shoulder fishing in New Jersey two years ago. But this weekend I took the girlfriend camping in GW National Forest, near Harrisonburg, and we happened to set camp along the banks of the North River, just below the Staunton dam. I knew immediately from the "trout stocked water" signs and the gang of RV's with their humming generators that this water must get absolutely pounded every week, but there was no way Anne was up for a two-hour hike into native brookie waters. So right around dusk on Saturday, I set up in a vacant pool downstream of the campsite bridge, just as fish started to dimple the surface as they sipped caddis. Thrilled to have rising fish next to my campsite, I threw on a small brown caddis and hooked a decent-sized fish on about my third cast. I lost him after a short fight, but I had that anxious feeling in my gut that I was about to slay the entire pool over the next half hour. And then, over my shoulder, I heard: "Dang, you almost had 'em!" I turned and there he was, Bait Fisherman Prototype, decked in camo from his boots to his head, hauling a tackle box the size of a small suitcase, and dragging a tangle of fishing line by his boot. The old man was close enough for me to poke with my rod, not to mention spook any leary brookies, but I just nodded and wished him a good afternoon. I went back to work on a rising fish, and then my worst fears were confirmed: Just as my fly drifted untouched past the riser, the old-timer chucked a giant earthworm and a heap of splitshot into the ring of the rise. I have to repeat that: INTO THE RING OF THE RISE. I was stunned. I never saw anything like this even in Jersey combat fishing. Then the old bird immediately said something that made me think he was more oblivious than malicious. He said, "You're pretty good with that thing there," gesturing to the fly rod. "I could never do it." In lieu of chewing out a man nearly three times my age, I told him to enjoy the pool and I went back to my beers and hot dogs. I have many more days left on the river than he does, I figured.
A half hour later, there were two other fishermen in on his turf, chucking metal into the same pool. I'd call it a just reward, but I don't think the old fella could've cared either way.
Apologies for any trace of a flyfisherman's elitist tone.
Best,
Dave
A half hour later, there were two other fishermen in on his turf, chucking metal into the same pool. I'd call it a just reward, but I don't think the old fella could've cared either way.
Apologies for any trace of a flyfisherman's elitist tone.
Best,
Dave