Well after being laid up for 9 days with a recurring knee injury I was anxious to get back on the river. It was tough not being able to get out there especially having some fair personal success before becoming a couch potato for that period of time. I was glad that I had contributed 3 wild fish to the brood capture program before my knee gave out.
I had trouble falling asleep last night thinking of the steelhead that I felt would be lurking out there, hungry to take a swipe at one of my delious looking roe bags. The patter of rain against the window pane overnight caused me some concern that the river could go out but with the cool temperature I felt confident it still would be fishable.
I rolled out of bed fairly early as daylight now comes earlier in each passing day; spring is just around the corner. I wanted to be at my chosen spot right at first light as I was eager to put it mildly. The rain was still falling be it fairly light as the Leaf Mobile swung in the direction of the river. Commuter traffic was humming along Keith Wilson Road; it is a distant memory to me now that I once was part of that commute too.
I arrive at the parking spot with a few minutes to spare before I would start my trek to the river so I tie up 5 fresh and juicy roe bags as the bags from 9 days ago did not look too appetizing.
The rain is coming down heavier now as I head down the trail, I can still feel my knee and I am walking with a bit of a limp but my knee brace helps keep the slightly nagging pain at bay. I also have a staff in hand, wow I think as finally reach the river I never ever thought it would be like this as during ones youth one never thinks of old age. Glad I have had 13 years of retirement.
The sound of the river rushing by, the cackle of some Canadian geese who had spent the night on a gravel bar and the sound of the rain splashing down on the water is sweet music to ones ear.
The area I am planning to fish has a few good spots to work; I sit on a log putting on the dimed size roe bag thinking which run I shall start at. I see the runs are empty of anglers, oh wait a minute another angler appears out of the mist, heading my way. Let’s see where he goes, that will make up my mind where to begin.
He heads to a “hot spot” so I will take “hot spot” number 2. The day has now begun we make our first casts at our respective runs. Boy it feels good to make a cast again as the line hums from the drum of the Avon.
I work the spot of the run where fish have been taken before, to no avail, I also keep an eye on the other angler but he is having no success yet either. I move to another part of the run that I had yet to hit a fish this year. On the first drift through the float dips, I strike and the feeling is solid, for some reason I thought it was bottom but all of a sudden the stationary object is moving, yes a fish, yippee but the feeling is short lived as the fish is gone, darn. I inspect the roe bag, still good. A couple more drifts nothing. Yes I guess the fish has felt the jab of the hook, is now wise. No, the next drift float down and again, good hook set but nothing. I again have hope this fellow is an eager guy and likes those juicy roe bags; will this iron give me a third opportunity?
A few more casts I get my answer and this time I make contact in a big way as immediately as the fish has felt the pinch of hook and is across the river going down stream, feels like a nice size too. I smile to myself, in satisfaction. Now what to do, stay where I am or follow my quarry? An obstacle below says, follow.
I have to wade a side stream, up higher to cross it so I give the fish line as I stumble across the water over the rocks keeping my balance, no pain in the knee now. The fish is clear of the obstacle, mid river, then another small side stream to cross, to another gravel bar.
I now play the fish from this spot and I am around 7 minutes into the flight and I am looking for a place to safely land it. Might as well stay right where I am. The fish is starting to surrender and as I draw it into a foot of water I see no fin, it’s a buck in the 12 to 14 pound range. Next thought do I want to keep it or not, it’s early into the trip. As its now very wet, the river is coloring up some and no fish for a while for the table I decide to keep it, that is if I can land it.
The fish runs a bit more as it feels the gravel and rocks on its stomach. As a fellow told me the first minute and last minute of fighting a fish is when most are lost. The fish is stubborn to give up and heads down stream again. The current is a bit strong so I let it slip over a shallow ripple and into a small pond about the size of 2 bath tubs. The fish is swimming around in the natural tub as I reach it; nice looking fish. The chrome is now on its side, I start to apply pressure to guide it to the shore. I am just thinking I now have you but pop the float becomes airborne, what goes? The fish just lays there for a few seconds then flips its tail and bids me goodbye. I wade into the foot or so of water and watch it swim into the deeper part of the water. I hope he will shed the hook and roe bag that I had seen was in the roof of the mouth. Well It has been a while that I have broken a fish off especially the main line just below the Maple Leaf DNE.
I am a bit dejected as I sit on a log for a few seconds thinking what had just happened, I guess that fellow that said the first minute of the fight and the last minute is when most fish are lost was correct in this case.
I tie up a new leader and fish for another hour before I head for coffee. During that time I miss another fish twice. After coffee I come back for another circuit of the runs but no chances given. The heavy rain continues to belt down and the water is looking more turbid all the time, besides I am cold and wet so I head for home with good memories of a tussle with another magnificent game fish.
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Topic: Chilliwack River, February 21st 2012 (Read 2263 times)