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What's your wierdest fishing moment?
Mine would be the surprise 29 inch rainbow in a pond full of 12-18inch fish, that not only took the dry but the #18 brassie hanging 36inches under it as well.
Hooked twice! Maybe a good thing considering the 7ft 4wght rod and 6x tippet.
On one of our local tailwaters catching 8-10" bows on little black caddis steadily. A very nice day 4wt 5x having a ball. A more authoritative rise and
one heck of a fight.......a carp of about 5 lbs.... on a dry fly...
Same river..... 5wt #16 soft hackle 5x with a bit of . Long yellow at the take. Wow a nice brown then I realize it's fighting
strangely..... it was a walleye @#$%$@????
While fishing I heard a mighty big splash. Excited by the prospect of some leviathan fish I turned round and saw that it was just a lamb that hadn't
watched its step and fell in the water. It cried out, desperetely holding on. I grabbed it by it's front leg shoulders and pulled it up. It was an easy job
but the little critter was so thankful that it followed me around, thinking I was his mother or something. Until its real mother came running from a distance,
making a great noise and literally trowing itself between me and the lamb. That settled things fine, and me and the lamb both went our seperate ways.
Last fall while fishing a Lake in BC I had a nice 'Bow almost to the net when a Loon shot into view under water and grabbed the fish about 5 foot down.
Loons are quite fast underwater and they swim by 'flying' underwater. The tops of the wings are white and are about 5 ' tip to tip. When one
appears under you it looks like a Killer Whale.
One time while fishing in a remotish River in BC I had a 20 pound Bull Trout take a small Whitefish I was landing right next to the boat. It came out of the
depths of the hole so fast that the two of us in the boat both jumped back. Bob was able to get in position and net it because it refused to let go of the
Whitefish. Drifting egg patterns behind a Salmon Redd using 15 pound test.
I had a friend who was landing a Silver Salmon on a River in the Queen Charlottes. Just as he beached the fish a Black Bear ran right by him, grabbed the fish
less than a rod length away, and took off down the beach. The fly was still in the fish's mouth but the tippet broke before Phil could turn the
Bear.
A Man of Pleasure, Enterprise, Wit and Spirit. Rare Books, Big Game Hunting, English Rifles and Paradoxes, Fly Fishing, Explosives, Chauvenism,
Insensitivity, Public Drunkeness and Sloth, Champion of Lost and Unpopular Causes.
Last Edited By: Finn 11/28/2009 01:56.
Edited 1 time.
I was fishing the Toccoa River tailwater here in Georgia one spring and looked up to see a young deer walking in the water heading straight for me. I was in
my standard olive drab get-up and the deer never saw me standing there. The little guy kept coming towards me and I figured at some point would see me, but it
kept coming! When the deer got about 15 yards from me, I decided it was time to announce my presence and made a quick whistle sound. Well, he looked up and
finally saw me and his eyes about bugged out of his head! He took off down river and jumped onto the bank and ran into the brush. It was a mezmerizing
moment on the water that I will never forget.
Much like the Loon story, my son and I were fishing for smallies on a lake in NW Wisconsin. I had a small (30in) Muskie hit my Bass Bug on a 5 wt rod, and
after about 10 minutes of fighting it, finally got it close to the boat. My son was just about to net it when I heard him yell "Holy S---". A full
grown Bald Eagle had come downafter the fish to head level, and had finally decided we were too big to take the fish from. He was climbing away when I looked
up. I never realized how big those birds really were until I saw one a couple of feet overhead. Truly the highlight of our trip, and the thing we talk most
about.
gofish
Can't remember if I've related this one before . . . .
When I was about 16 yrs old (1964), my Grandfather used my cousins and myself as his crew on his quest to catch the "Flathead Monster", a creature
that supposedly inhabited Flathead Lake in NW Montana. If there was a creature there, it was most likely a sturgeon
that had become landlocked back in the late 1930s. Over the decades, there had been many sitings of something huge in the lake, but as with most legends of
this sort, there were skeptics. Grandfather was not one, and he developed and nurtured an obsession for catching the "monster". While I have a
number of odd stories about this quest, the one that stands out for me is this one - I'll try to be succinct.
The rules for sturgeon fishing (according to Grandfather) are thus: you fish at night, you use 2100 lb test airplane cable (the cable used for ailerons and
flaps on airplanes) for line, you spool the line onto a 3-foot diameter cable spool attached to the back of a small cabin cruiser, you attach a
6"-8" single-snell hook to the line, you jam a chicken onto the hook, you drop the hook into the water, and you sit all night until the sturgeon eats
the chicken. Thems the rules, in a nutshell.
Setting: We're anchored between two islands in about 125 feet of water. Sun is just starting to set, and the lake is glassy smooth - no ripples, swells
or other disturbances. Granddad is fiddling with the anchor line, and I'm looking for a snack. The sunset is starting to paint the mountains to the East
that peaceful, purple hue - it's almost idyllic!
Action: About 100 yds. away, we hear some significant splashing and look in that direction to see the water churning. Slowly, the churning begins to move
toward us while the rest of the water around us remains absolutely calm. The churning area eventually separates into four distinct side-by-side
"things" swimming at us looking much like a submarine might appear as it motors along the surface of the water. As the objects closed in, we could
see their humpbacks above the water - sharp, serrated ridges skimming along the surface with a wake spreading out to the sides of each of them. We stared at
the sturgeon, pretty much slack-jawed, until my Grandfather screamed "Judas priest! It's them!" At that point, the fish were about 50 feet from
us, and we could see their backs clearly - they were definitely sturgeon, maybe 10' to 15' in length. In the commotion to get the chicken on the end
of the hook and into the water, the fish obviously heard us and immediately sounded. As the lake returned to its placid, undisturbed state, Grandfather and I
stood staring at each other, him with the chicken in his hands and me with a Snickers bar in mine. We had actually seen the "Flathead Monster"!
Epilogue: We only made a couple more monster outings that summer, and the last one ended with the boat being smashed into one of the islands during a huge,
freak storm that surprised us. After that, Granddad was content in that he had seen the monster(s) that summer and pretty much called it quits. All
that's left are the memories of that evening and the continuing legend of the "Flathead Monster".
Knowing what I know now, I wish I would have had a Granger 9053 and a good-sized soft hackle fly - I think I could have snagged and bagged one of those
beauties!
That's my strange fishing story, and I'm sticking to it . . . .
Dean D
Some days, it's not even worth chewing through the restraints.
The first time out fishing with a fly rod I caught a trout. lol
The time I was fishing at a lake with all kinds of vines and branches under my feet,kinda spongy carpet of vines. I heard some noise and looked down to see a
5-6 foot gopher snake go by under my feet. It was getting dark out and the snake seemed like it was 10 feet long at the time.
Well, this was the weirdest.
http://www.classicflyrodforum.com/topic/26042
I guess second place goes to a guided trip on the St. Regis in upstate New York about eight years ago -- the bottom was like wet cobblestones. After releasing
a nice brown, I took a step toward my guide, slipped, recovered and kind of lunged forward with my rod. I had brought two rods along, and he was carrying the
second one. As I lunged, I managed to neatly, and instantaneously, thread the tiptop of the rod I was carrying through about six guides on the rod he was
holding. As I found my footing and stood up straight, I realized that the two rods were now Siamese twins. I asked him whether that that ever happened before.
He looked at me as if I were insane for even asking.
Well, ok, maybe it wasn't six guides. But it was at least three or four.
Last Edited By: teter 11/29/2009 02:19.
Edited 1 time.
While fishing in Tazmania my guide and I stumbled upon a sheep that had stumbled into the river. It was waterlogged and barely keeping its head above water.
Needless to say, a waterlogged sheep of any size is pretty darn heavy. The two of us managed to drag it up on the bank though. It was so heavy that it could
not stand on its own, so we laid him in the sun and let him air dry. Odd experience for me, but the guide said it was a common occurance as the sheep outnumber
the people in Taz about 3:1!
Yep but have any of you herded the bull while pontoon boating?
My dad and a good friend and I where fishing a small lake on the flanks of grand mesa where a group of cowboys where gathering up their cows just before
hunting season. The bull in the bunch was being herded by the boys on their horses.
The cowboys had trapped the bull against the side of the lake and in the corner made by the outlet when the bull decided that he had had enough of being chased
and he was going to cross the lake.
The bull got out into water that was much deeper than he expected and was down to the point where only his back and head where above water as I finned up to
the bull and pulled off my leather Dallan hat and started to herd him back to shore. The look on his face was priceless and you could just see the thought of
"Holy Crap there are cowboys out here too"!!!
I herded him back to shore and he was one tired bull;
And that is no BS
Jeff
P.S. had I not been there and herded him back he would not have made it across the lake.
And I want you to notice all this time I continued to troll my wooly bugger.
Last Edited By: Gnome 12/01/2009 10:12.
Edited 1 time.
Hooked a 10" trout on my local river and was bringing it in... a blue heron landed on a log directly across from me while fighting said fish. The heron
jumped off it's perch, flared, grabbed my trout, shook it and unhooked the fly, gulped it down and went back to it's perch on the log! I decided to
move on.
One time I was way deep in a heavy forest river in upper Michigan. I walked over to the river's edge to put my waders on and gear up (I like to watch the
river while I gear up). Suddendly I felt a stinging sensation on my inner left thigh, then another on the other leg. I looked down and saw that I was
standing directly over a bee's nest - under some tree roots. The bees were just starting to swarm so I ran like hell - which is somewhat tough to do in a
heavy forest with only your socks on. I seemed like I must have ran at least a half mile before they stopped chasing me - all but two bees. I just had to let
them land on me and them swatted them. The real trick was going back to retreive my waders that were still plopped down over the nest.
Watched a mink cross a log laying across the stream. A couple minutes later a fox squirrel crossed the same log; he jumped up, took two steps, and got the
scent of the mink. He froze and sat motionless for a couple minutes then VERY slowly moved back to the bank. There were overhanging trees over the stream, so
he went up the nearest big tree and worked his way out to the end of the longest and thinnest limb. Took a jump, and nearly fell in. The tree limbs on the
opposite bank were so small that they could not really bear his weight, but he got a grasp on a thin one one with two front paws and bobbed up and down for a
minute or two. He finally worked his way out of the mess by pulling himself up with his front paws until he got to thicker branches.
Mink are brazen. Was fishing in the same spot and heard a snarl/growl. Looked over and there was a large mink gnawing on a chunk of bloody meat about 10 feet
away on a log.. He snapped at me, and would not move even when I poked him with the end of my fly rod.
Dean, that's one of the best "grandpa" stories I've ever read! The best I can do is hooking a muskrat (sp?) while stripping in. It was the
toughest battle of the day and the release was a bit tricky. Jim
Opening Day at Bennett Springs State Park in Missouri - air temp in the 30's and water temp 54. I was fishing at the bottom of the dam on the apron and
there were a few guys standing on the top of the dam - remember this is opening day with 4000 people fishing 1.5 miles of stocked stream. One of the guys on
the dam took a step off the back and slid down the dam face into the water in front of me. I cast my fly line to him (a six weight 3 M Wt ). He grabbed it
and I swung him to the bank where he climbed out and went to warm up in his car and change clothes. I did manage to catch a few stocked trout and have only
fished one other time on opening day.
Several winters ago, my wife and I drove to the County Seat of my home county one afternoon so that I could fish for the stocked rainbows the state put in the
beautiful spring creek that ran through town and the city park.. Unbeknownst to us, there was a parade scheduled for early afternoon, complete with bands and
horses! I deduced that there should be no conflicts between my fishing and the parade, so I strung up and started fishing above a bridge into the city park,
and below a cut-bank about seven feet high. I had noticed several vehicles towing horse trailers were parked along the street behind us, but did not give it a
second thought. I was fishing! Before long the parade was over, and people and horses began crossing the bridge, headed towards the vehicles parked behind me.
I was concentrating intently on the nymph I was dead drifting through one of the water-cut channels in the solid limestone bottom when I heard a horse running
all out. I assumed someone was "letting their horse out" after the parade, to burn off some of it's pent up energy. Suddenly, I realized it was
getting quite close, as I could hear the "squeak" of the saddle. All at once this riderless horse came flying off the cut-bank about three feet to my
left, it's eyes as big as saucers. When it's front feet hit the creek bottom, the foreparts stopped, and the aft parts came flying over, leaving it
thrashing wildly on it's back, trying to get up. The look on her face was priceless! When she finally managed to get her feet under her, she started
bucking like crazy until she finally pitched the saddle off. At which time she started running downstram, with her saddle floating ahead of her. She had gone
maybe two lengths when I realized I had her hooked in the chest. Figuring she was going to be tough to land with a 5 wt, and knowing there was no way I could
get her in my ice chest., I pointed my rod at her and grabbed the line with my hand and broke her off. She finally stopped running as she neared the bridge,
and a couple of pre-teen boys recovered the floating saddle. (She had been loosely tied to her trailer when some idiot in a pickup with glass pak mufflers came
by and spooked her.)
Later, when a friend asked what pattern I was using, I told him it was a Horse Fly!
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