Jason is just finishing the layout and design of book four in the Fly Fishing series. It’s title is The Angler as Predator, and this story is from Chapter One. Watch for more excerpts as we get closer to publication date.

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I’d fished the upper Test several times before, but this time, I was on the lower Test, only a few miles above salt, and my host was Brian Clarke. It was midsummer, and the grasses measured themselves against the tops of the fence posts. The sun danced in a clean, blue sky, and the wind busied itself elsewhere. As we signed the register in the low, ancient stone clubhouse, a beekeeper arrived to gather a swarm and set up a new hive.

“The rules are very strict, here,” Brian said, almost apologeticly. “It’s dry fly only, and only to rising fish.

“What about fishing across stream or down with the dry,” I asked, certain that I already knew the answer.

“Across is okay if that’s the only possible angle,” Brian noted, “but downstream is strictly verboten.”

“Jawohl,” I saluted in a mock military fashion.

The weather was certainly fine, and I was stalking wild brown trout with an old friend on a magnificent piece of storied water, what did I care if it was a river of “thou shall not.” It would be fun. Until we started, of course, and there were no rising fish. We watched and waited and watched and waited.

“You hang out here,” Brian instructed, “and I go upstream and see if anything’s going on up there.”

So I did. I was near a straight stretch of meadow water, and grasses crowded the banks, even tipping over into the water. Here and there a shrub edged in, dipping its toes and limbs into the stream. My side of the river was in full bright sunlight, the far one-third was in shadow. If there were any rising fish in this non-hatch period, they would most certainly be along the shadowy bank. That, of course, meant that being on the sunlight side made me all the more visible. I knelt in the tall grasses to be as unnoticeable as possible, and waited.

I found myself on the sunlit side of the Test and so knelt in the tall grasses to minimize my presence to the fish.

My patience was rewarded when I noted a rise in the shadows along the far bank. I looked more closely. There it was again, just down stream from a small, bare branch that dragged in the surface. As I watched I noted that the branch was dipping down a bit under the pull of the current, and then springing back again. Every seven or so pull/spring cycles, the tip of the limb would pop fully out of the water, and then dip under again.

I crept forward on my knees until I was about three feet back from the edge and settled in to watch a bit more. The fish was still rising, and the stick still dancing. It would be quite a trick if I could perform it. But this was a rising fish, and I was burning daylight. I counted the bounces of the stick. On number five I flipped the grass-green fly line into the air and shot the little dry across stream. It fell perfectly, right in line with the fish. The stick bounced again, number six. The fly drifted down, and it looked like I had taken a chance that wasn’t going to pay off. Then suddenly just as the leader was about to touch the stick, it lifted cleanly out of the way, and the fly slipped neatly under. The trout rose and took the little imitation positively. I tightened, and was greeted with the wiggles of a small fish. It was a brown of about ten inches.

After some time, and with no more fish spotted, I wandered up to find Brian. He was kneeling and watching a corner pool. Nothing was rising, so I called to him, and he motioned me over.

“I got a little brown that was rising just down stream of that bush on the other side,” I told him, and then explained my solution to the problem.

“Yes,” he remarked casually, “I’ve had him out twice—just wanted to see how you’d do with him.”

I wasn’t sure if I’d just passed a test on the Test, or if Brian was just messing with me. Either way, it was a perfect start to a day that ended with a heavy rise of fish just at dark. We caught many, but none stick in my memory like the stick fish.

To borrow a title from the video of the same name that Jason and I produced in 1986, this year it really is “The Fabulous Bighorn.” From an earlier report that I had from Chuck Furimsky, I knew it was going to be a great year on the ‘Horn, but it turned out to be the best it has been in many years. Guides and others fishing the ‘Horn this year all rave about the numbers and sizes of the fish they have been catching. Drift fishers are taking 100 fish a day per boat, with many more lost. And the size is extraordinary.

John Beth and his friends fished the ‘Horn this past week and found every tale to be fact. In fact, John took so many fish in the 17 to 20 inch size that he didn’t even shoot any photographs. That what I call jaded! When the fish are coming every other cast to both nymphs and dries, when there are pods of fish up and chomping, when the average size is 18 ½ inches with plenty of 20 inch fish tossed in, it’s easy to see how one could come to think that such fishing is the norm. Believe me it certainly is not!

If you have a chance to get to the river before it’s so cold that your fingers won’t work anymore, then by all means go and enjoy this extraordinarily exceptional year.

John Beth with “just another average rainbow” from the Bighorn.

Our mutual friend, “Doc” Zavadsky with a healthy 20 incher.

Our good friend, Theo Baakelar, has forwarded photos of a trip that he and our mutual friends Chuck Furimsky and Harry Schoel took to Harkers Island in North Carolina last November for false albacore—“albies.” They had a great trip. You can read about it in the photographic story below. The fish will be there this November, so get your gear ready and start planning now.

Take at least two rods on the 10 to 11 weight category—one equipped with a floating line and one with the fastest descending full sinking line available.

Flies should represent the small baitfish that the albies are constantly feeding on.

They take the flies hard and fast, and the angler must be ready every second for the power of the strike.

When the albies are in the boats are out—in numbers!

Many anglers fish from boats where they can pursue the fast moving albies, but these fish can also be taken from shore, where one many encounter the island’s ponies.

There they are—oops, those are dolphins.

There they are—this time it really is a school of fast moving albies smashing bait—quick get the fly in the water.

An 8 pound albie pulls like a 24 pound striper, and then some. The never seem to quit.

But the fight is well worth the result. Truly beautiful—the fish, not Theo.

When the school is large really busting bait, everyone gets hooked up. Chuck lands a nice one, too.

And Harry is not to be left out.

In addition to their beautiful silver blue color, the back of the albie is vermiculated like that of a brook trout.

Let’s see, sushi or cork, sushi or cork?

Albies have to be shot back into the water like a torpedo on release so they will swim strongly and keep their gills well oxygenated.

One may find tasty weakfish while fishing for albies, and these go back to the Barbie.

The pelicans wait patiently on the pier for successful anglers.

Mmmmmm, weakfish entrails, just what we’ve been waiting for. A great end to a great trip for our anglers.

I just had a nice note from Steve Rudzinski about the fishing in Goodwin Lake in central California. local guide Bill Ferrero, recently took a 30 inch beast from the lake. Steve subsequently caught a very large rainbow that is certainly in the 30 inch range, but he was not able to get accurate measurements without at least two more hands.

For those of you that love lake fishing as I do, take note of Steve’s tactic. He fishes a small back marabou jig (one tied on a swimming jig hook would work just as well) about 9 feet under a soft plastic indicator, working the fly slowly along the shallow edges. The take is often very soft, and the indicator is just one more aid in detecting the delicate pickup. Steve says,

“I am using this technique a lot more now and getting twice or more better results than with other tactics. I had an 18 fish day but another expert fisherman one day got 36 or so, another fisherman at a “derby day” that Roy organized, landed 50 fish in a little over 2 days on the water.

Steve also reports that he used this tactic in Crowley L.,  Convict L., and others, and did very well there, too.

Steve's big rainbow recently taken in Goodwin lake.

Anyone would like a set of lips of this size wrapped around their black jig. Note the size of this fish's head (part of it is in shadow).

Our friend, Theo Baekelaar, has sent along slides from his recent salmon fishing trip to Norway. This year, the Mandalselva River, where they were fishing, was low, and the fish had not moved into the holding areas in the numbers that are usually found this time of year. None-the-less, his group did find a few willing fish, and everyone greatly enjoyed the beauty of the river and the majesty of the surrounding lands. There are small cabins along the different beats where one can take a break from long casts and long summer days on the water. The cabins are outfitted with salmon tables and benches, a pleasant touch that keeps even the tired angler “up” for more casting and swinging.

Though the day starts early, one of the great rewards of fishing for Atlantic Salmon is the great beauty the country through which the rivers flow.

The Mandalselva River is a medium large stream where long casts and long swings with the fly are common.

All anglers are required to disinfect their gear before beginning the fish. This is help prevent the introduction of invasive species.

When fishing with the river flowing from right to left it is necessary to use a Double Spey, Snake Roll, or other change-of-direction tactic to reposition the line for the Forward Spey delivery. Here, Theo is swinging the rod through the first part of the Double Spey.

The Forward Spey is built on the “D” Loop, which Theo executes perfectly.

The flies are typically built on tubes because they offer the least weight for their size, making long casts easier.

Atlantic Salmon can be strangely picky in fly selection, taking a blue fly one day, but opting for a green, brown, black, red, orange, purple….the next day; thus, the salmon fisher has a bit of guess-and-by-gosh work cut ot for him each day.8. Of course, the best pool on the entire river has electric lines running directly over it, adding a bit of excitement to the casting.

Brown trout (Salmo trutta) and the Atlantic Salmon (Salmo salar) are very closely related species, and one often finds big browns in the salmon rivers.

Of course, the best pool on the entire river has electric lines running directly over it, adding a bit of excitement to the casting.

Each river beat is clearly marked, and the anglers fish downstream, each far enough away from the next so that lines do not tangle on the cast or swing.

Other signs like this one (which probably says, “Good Luck, you’ll need it”) are posted in clearly seen places in the trees.

Of course, everyone told Theo and his group, “You should have been here last week.” The week before the anglers caught enough fish that they could take a few to have smoked for the holidays.

After several fishless days, the anglers entered into the Atlantic Salmon Olympics. Here one of Theo’s friends tries for a new world record in the Spey Javelin toss.

Perhaps it’s time for everyone to retire to the streamside cabins and reconsider this year’s activities.

But then a nice Atlantic comes to the fly and the entire group is energized for the remainder of the trip.

The Three Point Grip, the one Jason and I both use, is not our invention. We have simply adapted it, with slight modification, from others who have gone before, most notable, my old friend, Lee Wulff. Lee claimed it was the strongest way to hold a fly rod and used this grip even on his very heavy glass tarpon rods. This grip, and all the others out there, will be discussed at length in our forthcoming book, The Perfect Cast I. I was reminded of Lee’s grip and casting style when I noted a short segment of one of his old movies on MidCurrent. It’s certainly worth a look. About half way through the clip, the show Lee casting, and his grip is clearly shown. Fun. Have a look here.

Three Point Grip as seen from the thumb side.

Three Point Grip as sen from upper oblique view on thumb side.

For those who would like to read a bit more about Al, head over to: http://missoulian.com/news/state-and-regional/al-troth-inventor-of-elk-hair-caddis-fly-leaves-mark/article_ae200f92-e7f6-11e1-aac9-001a4bcf887a.html

Al was a great fly fisher and very creative tier.

Jason and I are putting the final touches on The Angler as Predator, book four in the “Fly Fishing” series. Here’s a list of chapter titles. Coming soon–excerpts from the book. Watch for them.

Chapter One: The Predator
Chapter Two: The Pretender
Chapter Three: The Hunter
Chapter Four: Home
Chapter Five: The Better to See You, My Dear
Chapter Six: The Better to Hear You, My Dear
Chapter Seven: I Spy
Chapter Eight: The Predator as Caster
Chapter Nine: The Dark Side
Chapter Ten: The Hook Set
Chapter Eleven: Fishticuffs

The Angler as Predator casting to a bog rainbow in New Zealand.

The two weeks spent at the Inverpolly Lodge is not only an opportunity to fish for Atlantic Salmon, sea trout, wild browns of the small lochs and streams of the Highlands, but also an opportunity to escape the rush of the work-a-day world and the hectic hustle of life. A great banner welcomes the anglers to camp, where even the time is posted in Scottish.

Salmon camp starts with a hearty welcome.

The Scots even like their time in ...ish.

First task is to unpack and arrange the tackle in the gear room. Rods, flies, waders and brogues, vests, rain jackets and hats are all critical to the trip, and have to be cared for. There have to be rules at fish camp, as well as opportunities to let one’s hair down a bit—fun things like prizes for the biggest fish, smallest fish, most fish, fewest fish, and so on, perhaps a songfest, a mock court to add a bit of levity to the event, and of course time to cook and eat, talk, organize gear, and plan the morrow. Then it’s time to sleep and dream of fish and the Highland hills that have welcomed the fly fishers for yet another year of spectacular fishing.

All that gear to catch how many fish?

The award for catching the most pollock.

A song fest while plotting the strategies of the morrow.

You've caught too many, so tomorrow you will have stay in camp!

What is this? A sea trout tattoo on a beer belly?

The tattoo calls for a special punishment--you must eat with these wooden spoons for the rest of the week.

Everyone takes a turn in the kitchen. Here' Theo is filleting the evening's fish.

What would cooking be without the occasional lettuce leaf in the face?

It's fun making the food, but much more fun eating it.

After dinner it's time to retire to the fire for a wee drop of single malt.

During the after dinner hours it's necessary to discuss who fishes where tomorrow.

The days pass swiftly and soon salmon camp is over for another year. but the remarkable Scottish Highlands will burn bright in the anglers' memories until it's time to return next year.

Al Troth, a most accomplished fly tyer and fisherman, who lived his last years in Dillon, Montana, died August 3. Al was an old Pennsylvania boy who taught high school in Williamsport, one of the trout meccas of the state. The E. Hille Company of Williamsport was very active in those years, and Al bought tying materials from them for the flies that he fished every summer in Montana. The lure of the west became overwhelming, and he moved his family to Dillon in 1973, where he guided on the famed Beaverhead, Big Hole, and other rivers and tied flies for a large group of devoted clients.

The world will forever be in debt to Al for the Elk Hair Caddis, and many of his other highly innovative imitations. His tying tactics and skills inspired tyers the world over.

I never had a chance to take Al up on his offer to fish together, but we had some fun discussions at conclaves and other venues, and I truly enjoyed his very sincere attitude and the excitement that came through when he talked about fishing the Troth Skater for big Beaverhead browns feeding on cranefly adults. I shall miss those opportunities to trade ideas and fishing stories.

Al Troth developed the Elk Hair Caddis and many other highly effective imitations.