Fly Lines

It's fascinating how much a river can change from one day to the next. On Monday it's dead; you struggle for each and every fish. On Tuesday, for no apparent reason, the water has come alive.

Why does the river change so much? Some of the factors are weather, barometric pressure, hatch or even the river flow. Sometimes fluctuations occur for no apparent reason at all. Under some circumstances you can predict these changes; other times it's a surprise.

This season - the year of weird weather and high river flows - has been especially interesting to try to predict. Our Salmonfly hatch on the Deschutes River was all over the map. The insects emerged pretty much on schedule, but cold damp weather kept them hunkered down in the bushes. For long periods they would not fly or get active.

During that time the trout did not get much of a chance to focus on insects and feed. The fishing was sporadic. Often we had to turn to other hatches such as the pale morning duns or the green drakes in order to get some trout.

The salmonfly fishing is always best on warm sunny days and slower when it is cold and wet. This is a variation we understand and can live with. However, this year the hatch was also unpredictable in other ways.

Down near Maupin, for some unknown reason, the insects simply disappeared early. Within a week after the bugs first appeared they were entirely gone. Instead of a hatch that lasted 20 or 25, days we had one that lasted a week.

In the end we had an okay salmonfly season. We caught plenty of fish, but we never did have any of those glorious days for which the hatch is so famous.

This year we have had a number of instances when, during what is normally caddis time, the fish have suddenly switched over to another more dominant insect.

This type of fluctuation is perhaps most common when the midges take over. An angler comes to the evening, what would normally be good caddis time. The fish appear on schedule, but they won't eat caddis. It's very frustrating. You cast and cast with what is normally your bread-and-butter fly. Nothing happens.

The fish continue to rise and ignore you. Under these circumstances, nine times out of 10, the answer to this mystery is that the fish have gone over to feeding on midges. These tiny, almost invisible insects can emerge in such clouds the sheer numbers of them create more food value than the caddis. The fish switch.

Hopefully, you, the angler, will get it figured out before the evening rise is over. Otherwise it can make for a pretty difficult day.

Perhaps the most subtle form of variation is river flow. Because of changes in dam releases, the river may go up or down a three or four inches in a day. Even for an experienced river man these changes can be hard to detect. But the fish know about it and react. A rising river will lead to poor fishing. A falling river makes the fish more active.

Not too long ago, I went through on a three-day trip a day or so ahead of one of my guides. I hit a rising river; he got it falling. When we exchanged stories you would not know we had fished in the same place. We struggled; he did great. Neither of us knew why until I reviewed the river flow data on the Internet. Then it was pretty clear.

So, when is the best time to go fishing? When you have time. Should you have a "bad day" when you can't catch trout? Not if you like to stay sane and happy. Fishing is fishing. The fun is being there. The river changes are just part of what keeps it interesting.