Friday, June 8, 2012

I Wonder If There’s a Water Fountain (Rio San Antonio, May 2012)


Fishing with dries is a rush. It’s the challenge of making an accurate cast. It’s the anticipation before the strike. It’s the connection with a wild fish that you convinced to take your fly. The fish has a choice, and you get to see it first hand. Nymphing is effective and enjoyable in its own right, but you aren’t able to witness the fish’s decision. Rio San Antonio is a great place for fishing dries. It’s also the location of where I would catch my first New Mexico trout.

After a beautiful drive up Highway 4, and a scenic hike on the East Fork of the Jemez, I sat at Ridgeback Café planning my next move. You see unfortunately, the East Fork was unproductive. The scenery was stunning, but there were no fish. Last summer a large fire devastated the area. Evidence clearly showed that the fish population had been wiped out. My spirits were a little low but were on the rise due to the help of a delicious green chile cheeseburger and my guidebook describing the Rio San Antonio. I hadn’t actually planned on fishing this piece of water. It went into detail of the brown trout and Special Trout Water. The STW is restricted to barbless hooks and is catch and release only. This sounded like a great recipe for some quality fishing. If only I knew ALL that I was getting myself into.

What the guidebook didn’t inform me about was that FR 376 was closed and that it was going to take about an hour and a half hike to get there. No worries, I was equipped with half a bottle of Gatorade and a full stomach right? About 45 minutes into the hike I crossed paths with a few different people. The first pair seemed very tired and looked like they had camped for the weekend. I asked how much further the creek was and they said I had about an hour to go. The next pair I came across was an older couple fitted with fly rods and gear. My kind of people. We were obviously after the same thing so I was encouraged to see them coming back. After talking to them they apparently never made it to the creek. They turned back because they said they didn’t have enough water and that it was just too far. Not exactly what I wanted to hear. After this conversation, the sweet aroma of vanilla from the Ponderosas suddenly didn’t seem so special. Thoughts of turning back were running through my mind. The turkey vulture circling overhead wasn’t exactly an encouraging sign either. My Gatorade bottle was less than a third full by this point. I wasn’t about to give up and pressed on.

Finally I made it to my destination. All of a sudden the steep terrain and tall trees flattened out and gave way to a grassy meadow with wild flowers colored in purple and yellow. It was a refreshing sight after about 5 miles of wondering whether or not the Rio San Antonio would show up. It did, and I was ready to fish. Like an excited kid after the last day of school I hurried down to the creek.

Eager as I was, I didn’t just start huckin’ flies. I like to take a few minutes to evaluate the river, the wind, bug activity, and any sign of fish that may make my fly selection easier. Many people I witness jump right into rivers without hesitation. Most of the time they end up disrupting what could have been a great day of fishing into a guessing game.

The water was a little muddy, wind was fairly strong, and I didn’t see any bug activity or active fish. Knowing this, I figured I would start with a small stimulator to locate fish and go from there. What I soon learned with these particular fish is that strike one, and you’re out. Rarely did I ever have a strike and then get another one in the same section. I had the best success fishing just below a downed log or other obstruction where there was some turbidity in the water. This creates oxygen and usually has some deeper water, which is ideal for holding trout. The first fish I landed was a feisty 4 or 5 inches and took my size 16 yellow/orange stimulator as if it were his last meal. How I was able to hook this guy with the size fly I was using was beyond me. I wasn’t complaining though. After that guy I had a hard time finding fish. That’s when I went with some heavier artillery. There were plenty of hoppers flying around the tall grass as I walked upriver, so I decided to tie one on for kicks. Sure enough, the first cast had a hungry brown attacking it with force. My hope was to draw a larger fish to the surface with this pattern. Sure enough I did. Another larger brown rolled on it, but I wasn’t able to get a good set. After the frustration of missed strike after missed strike I concluded that the pattern was too big and I was unable to get a solid hook set. Time for something new.

I decided to tie on a size 16 Royal Wulff and went back to a pool where I saw a larger fish rise earlier. Like I said, you only get one strike with these guys. I earned strike one but wanted to try it again. It had been about thirty minutes since I had been to this particular spot. It was a shallow riffle, which dumped into a larger pool and narrowed just a few yards downstream creating some nice holding water. Like I said I had failed to hook any fish earlier and so I knew a few trout were residing there. I didn’t want to screw it up again.




The wind had not let up all day and was gusty here and there. I waited patiently for the best moment to make my cast. It finally died down and I made my move. My fly landed right where I wanted it. I made a slight mend in the line for a nice drag free drift and sure enough after about 2 feet into the drift my anticipation was interrupted by a larger brown. I made a good set and landed him. Maybe it was because I was dehydrated, or maybe it was because I had been catching 5-7 inchers all day, but this brown was one of the most rewarding fish I’ve caught. Granted, this fish was no trophy, but the satisfaction of fooling a skittish trout made up for it. I made an accurate cast. My anticipation was rewarded with a strike and I was able to connect with a fish that made a choice. I was glad to be a part of that decision.  

On the way back I realized just how many fish there were in the San Antonio. Since I was finished fishing I didn’t walk with any caution, and every few yards I could see a shadow shoot upstream or downstream as if to say, “you can’t fool us all.” But that’s the beauty of fishing, there’s always one more fish to try and fool.

Equipment:

·      8’ 4” 3-weight
·      Double taper line
·      7-9 foot tapered 5X leader
·      Size 14 Hopper
·      Size 16 Yellow/Orange Stimulator
·      Size 16 Royal Wulff



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