Thursday the 14th of June started out pretty much
like all the Trout bum summer mornings: Up at the crack of dawn, exercising,
shower and having a healthy breakfast. NOT. I mean I like the idea of these
things, but morning is not to be wasted on that kind of crazy routine. I like
to start the day with a cup of good black Sumatran coffee and a clean T-shirt.
Anyway things were on schedule when
I got a call on my fishing line, it was a guy named Kirt Gunn he and a friend
were in Seattle for a film festival, they were filmmakers from New York City.
He booked a trip for the next day Friday the 15th so far so
good. In our short conversation he told me about some of the famous water he
fishes back home, he also told me he was basically a dry- fly fisherman. Dry-
fly fishing in the middle of June on the Yakima River is a late evening caddis
event; the rest of the day is usually fishing subsurface under a bobber,
productive but not visually cinematic. Remember, fly fishing and particularly
good dry fly fishing is always about conditions and timing, ALWAYS. You have to
be at the right place at the right time with the right gear, a little like over
throwing a third world government the timing must be perfect.
Friday morning I got up and made
coffee and looked out the window, it was raining!! Unforcasted rain in
the desert, beautiful overcast drizzling rain. I stood in the back yard
drinking coffee under the sycamore tree and did the dance of joy. Why?? Let me
explain: the perfect conditions for fishing dry flies is overcast, drizzle and
no wind. The bugs in this case Pale Morning Duns, Cahillís, and Pale Evening
This is the way it works, when the bugs come to the surface to
hatch and the humidity is high or itís raining, it takes them a long time to
dry there wings and fly off, they drift hundreds of feet struggling to get
airborne. Thousands of huge Mayflies like miniature sailboats drifting over the
heads of predatory rainbow trout. In these conditions even the most wary old
lunkers lose all control. They just go nuts.
I got down to business, made lunch,
collected the gear and hooked the boat to the truck. I was ready to meet my
clients and I was stoked. At 8 the phone rings. Kirtís rental car burned up a
wheel bearing just outside Seattle; the rental car company said they were on
the way with another car. He said heíd call when they were back on the road.
TICK, TICK, TICK. The clock is
running and its still raining. At 9:30 the phone rings, the rental company sent
a van with a spare tire, Itís a bearing not a bum tire you boneheads.
They assure him the new car is on the way, heíll call me.
TICK, TICK, TICK. Itís raining and Iím pacing the backyard in
circles like a chained wolf. At 10:40 I call Kirt, heís still stuck on the
freeway, I can tell heís close to cracking, and says heíll call me back.
TICK, TICK, TICK. Now Iíve had a pot of coffee and, like a
character in an old Mel Brooks movie, I am starting to go completely HIGH
ANXIETY. Itís still raining.
TICK, TICK, TICK. Is this were I buy the farm? Do I really feel
like I have two sacks of concrete pushing down on my chest?
At 11:45 I call Kirt again, No replacement car, just stuck on the
road in the rain, I call the game, by the time they get here the hatch would be
So now it was finally over. There
was really nothing for me to do but go fishing after all the lunch was made and
it was still raining.
Kirt I would tell you how the
fishing was, but lets just say it was cinematic and leave it at that.