After much deliberation and personal anguish, I have decided 5:30 am is too early for a beer…… alone, even on a vacation, however I have decided it’s not too early for a cigar. I was sitting alone on the observation platform at our cabin enjoying a smooth Autro Fentue chateau while staring into the darkness and listening to water making swift sounding noises as it sauntered over the rocks that have been there since before time began. I recalled our last three days on this mountain, the fish caught and the rushing water. Serinity! The water seems to do that, whether it is the beach, briny flats, blue water, an ancient lake or a rambling river, maybe because it holds hopes of what if, or why not. Maybe, it’s that it contains what we anticipate, or it may simply be the water offers no excuses, listens to our troubles and it’s always there.
We’re here! Jake, Bret Gamrot, Brett Norris and I were eager to get our fly rods out and start. Gamrot was the only one of us that had fished for bows, the rest of us were chomping at the bit to mark that one off the bucket list. We made a trip to Unicoi outfitters where we were hooked up with what to use by one of the guides working the shop. We selected the terminal stuff, lines leaders and flys. Jake Darling was our guide and also the Manager of the fly shop; he was heading to our cabin to get us going.
Gamrot went with a pink worm fly that looked a little more like a pink mini pipe cleaner tied on to a hook smaller than I would use to help my youngest of clients to catch pinfish. It was tiny. I was told to use 3x leader by our trusty fly shop guide, those of you who don’t know what that is, it’s a fluorocarbon leader that is like trying to tie a knot in baby fine hair. It’s thin. I had to buy glasses so my aging eyes cold see it enough to tie a knot. The afternoon session on the back yard stretch of river was fairly uneventful, Gamrot caught a couple of rainbows, Jake got one and Norris and I were in the hole. Dave Daniels arrived about an hour after our guide and Jake taught us some of the basics of how to rig and what to use for this particular time of year. I found a rock that was great for standing, casting and watching the river flow by. We spread out and began. Dave had fished for rainbows in the past and fairly quickly caught a brown in the 5lb range. It was as much fun for me to watch as it was for him to catch it. It was his biggest brown trout to date. We all worked the river behind the house and found that the fish inhabiting our stretch of water were wary and finicky, but they would eat if given the right opportunity. We found that you just had to put the time in as our guide quickly set an example, drifting a stonefly pattern past an eddy over and over until the fish ate. After some lessons on roll casting for Norris and I and some rigging and thick steaks, we had day 2 planned and loaded. Jake, Norris and I would fish with the guide for the morning and Bret and Dave had him in the afternoon.
Some days the fish just don’t eat. Fishing another stretch of the river we found a few fish here and there, but this is where the acquired knowledge and experience with this fishery came into play. We had invited our Guide Jake to fish too. I watched as he sighted a fish and began a work of art, cast after cast, rolled out tightly making tiny dimples as the fly slid beneath the surface. The fish ate, he had a solid rainbow after a few runs and a scoop of the net he had shown us how it’s done. Our time was waning so we called it and loaded up in the truck heading to meet Gamrot and Dave. We grabbed a pizza and some cold beer across from Unicoi Outfitters at a little “mom and pop” shop as we met up with Dave and Bret. From the pics I saw, the afternoon was not productive either.
Day three was the day. Jake and I opted to ride into Helen and see my uncle Jimmy. I had not seen him in 5 years and we were going to just fish the river behind the house. Norris, Gamrot and Dave had hired a guide for the day to fish a private piece of water. Their morning was slow, as was ours at the house, but apparently the stars lined up in the afternoon. The bite went off for them; they all caught large rainbows, all in the 8 to 10 lb range. I can’t tell their story because I was not there, but I can tell you the adventure Jake and I had. After returning to Clarksville from my uncle’s we fished a public stretch of water for an hour and decided that maybe we should have gone with the other guys to fish the private waters. We loaded our gear and decided to finish our trip at the house. I grabbed a couple beers from the cooler and sunk them behind the big flat rock. It had been my favorite spot the whole trip. Jake meandered down the river to the downed log and fished a more violent part of our private spot. He whistled and I looked downriver and saw him fighting a fish, he whistled again and I figured that he needed the net so I grabbed it and ran it to him, falling in twice. I have great sea legs, but I do not have river wading legs! Jake had a pretty 5lb rainbow, I netted it and we prepped him for the photo shoot (Jake not the fish). Pink worm? I asked. Yep. I had one left. I told him I saw a couple big fish and with the light diminishing they won’t be able to see me so they might be a little more receptive to eating pink pipe cleaner tied to a hook. As I walked back to my rock I remember mumbling about being skeptical about the baby hair fine leader holding, shouldn’t I tie on a 20 lb leader? I stood on the flat rock, not having mastered the roll cast, but after 3 days of 500plus roll casts, I was making pretty respectable presentations.
I saw the big bow, it was motionless and floating effortlessly, nosed into the current. The old fish had, like me, picked a more peaceful part of the river to work. I watched it for a bit, it really liked this slate shelf, it would ease under it then come back out. I began casting on it and using the information gained from Jake Darling. I had to muster all the patience I could and I did. I worked this fish for an easy 7 to 8 minutes. I could see the fish, under the shelf, I made short casts up river, trying to get it to drop and pass within what I perceived to be the strike zone. I saw my pink worm drifting, mended my line and I saw the fish turn a little, lost the fly, stripped back softly, felt weight and did a text book hook set and hollered for Jake, FISH ON! The first run went under a rock and around it. I ran to the spot, slipping and sliding, but managed to stay dry, used the fly rod to free up the line from the rock, and commenced the battle. I have to admit, it was kind of like reeling in a bucket, until it ran, quick and slick the fish made long runs with the drag singing and the line burning over the crease in my pinky finger. Jake had stayed up on the observation deck watching the fight, then as the fish tired we got it in the net. A couple digital renderings and we sent her back to the safety of the shelf. It was almost dark now in our little canyon, it gets dark here beneath the canopy of trees an hour before the sun sets. I had 2 cold beers in the river, right by my flat rock that needed some attention!
I ended the day right where I began it, though now it is prime time for a beer and a well-deserved celebratory cigar with my son. We recounted the day’s events, the river is always in the background vocalizing softly as it flows over rock smoothed and worn by time.
December 15, 2013 – 18:45
As I write this story I think about how I wish I were back sittin on the flat rock and drinking a river cooled beer on the Soque. I wonder how many first fish it has seen, or how many last fish. I wonder how many hours has that rock been settled onto, feet in the water, while looking down river for answers to questions that were never found. I wonder how many others have stood and fallen from that rock and how many more have become addicted to casting flies at these finicky, freckled fish, as I have. I wonder if that rock spawns dreams of whys and what if’s. How much contentment and how much therapy has it offered and to who, for what? I wonder if anyone else used the eddy it created to sink a couple beers and keep’em cold? Has it been a platform for dreams realized? I wonder what that rock means to those that have perched upon it. Does it mean anything at all? As I sat on that rock my question was answered. That “rock” is more than just a rock on the Soque.
To fish the waters up in North Georgia with Jake Darling or any of the top notch guides at Unicoi Outfitters, give them a call at 706-878-3083. Custom trout art by Courtney Marie Martin at www.ohonacreationsfl.com.
