Legend

     It has been written before on this blog that I've often been shut down on the Beaverkill.  Can't crack the code.  I think about this quite often, because it's true.

     I was fortunate enough to be passing through the Catskills from work this evening, and, could have chosen really any major waterway that I wanted to spend the last 90 minutes of daylight.  In an upset, I drove over the West Branch in Deposit, passed by the Hale Eddy Bridge, and really had to fight when I blew by Hancock.  Tonight, I had Roscoe on my mind.

     To further muddy the waters, I had a hankerin' to fish streamers tonight.  The water was just a hint off color and it was up at 700 CFS, so conditions for such a technique gave the green light.  I went back to the trusty tungsten cone-head woolly bugger.

     Well I beat the no-kill area to a froth.  I must have covered the backwater of 100 different pockets in Horse Brook Run to no avail.  I thought trout were supposed to be taking holding lies behind rocks?  Ah, yes, they do.  But just because they are holding lies, doesn't mean they are necessarily feeding lies... I was looking for the reaction bite. I thought that I could get better results than simply swinging the streamer.

     For 72 minutes, I was shut down, without a bite.  Another Beaverkill blanking in the works.  But as always in fly fishing, the next cast can make all the difference.  Just before dark, 17" of beautiful brown trout finally came up.

     What a difference a fish can make ... this one felt good...

     But you know, I didn't solve the Beaverkill tonight.  Yeah, maybe if I went back to nymphing and worked the seams I could have picked up two or three--perhaps--but I'm not so sure. 

     For now, time just to sit back and admire the beauty of this water.  The rivalry continues....