Eddie Rivard Fly Fishing: The Last Hurrah

With the start of classes tomorrow signaling for my freewheeling lifestyle to come to an end for a while it was prudent that I get out for one last fish today. I was running low on my signature rubber legged Wooly Bugger pattern so I took the time to tie up three more before I hit the road. It takes me about 90 minutes to tie three flies.

With the knowledge that most rivers would be muddy due to last night's storms I also knew a little stain in the water can work in a guy's favor. A chip, chair and a chance as well as a full tank of gas is all I need to find fishable water.

The first stream I came to had about six inches of visibility. I'm pretty confident in my ability to catch fish in even the most adverse conditions so I slogged away for two hours without even seeing a sign of a fish. I was completely devastated and thought about calling it a day then a voice in my head said, "If you fish it, they will bite". I decided that I really didn't have a problem fishing some more but it was going to have to be in a different place. I took a look at my maps and started driving. I had an idea of a place that might have clear water.

While I was on my way I pulled over and placed a call to my friend Shebs. I wasn't surprised to hear that he was out in Wisconsin having an excellent day on a popular river. Hearing of Sheb's good fortune gave me hope that the fish were indeed biting today. I just needed to find a river where they could see my fly.

As I continued on towards my destination I crossed over a river that I was sure would be muddied up. To my surprise I could see the bottom in over a foot of water. I found a good spot to pull over and started fishing. Fishing this river was something I have always planned on doing.

I moved silently through the river taking my time with my approach to prime casting distance. On the third cast I felt a tremor in my rod and I knew exactly what that meant. Fish on!

She made a gallant effort but in the end my biceps and my five weight Sage DS2 proved too powerful. I was about to whip out the tripod to get a good photo of myself with the trout when I heard some giggling in the bushes. I have encountered forest fairies in the past and their laughter is unmistakable. I told them my hard luck story and feeling sorry for me they agreed to take the photos for me. Thanks fairies!

19 inches baby. At that moment I thought about calling it a day but it was still early and I had some energy left.

I quietly made my way back to the run and while I was stripping in my second cast I felt an immovable object. It was too bad for that fish because I am an unstoppable force. He went one way and I went the other. He darted and I dived. He shuffled and I shimmied. He flipped and I flopped. He didn't want to be landed but I wasn't backing down. In the end there could be only one victor. I heard cheers as forest fairies had watched the whole thing happen.

They agreed to take one more photo as long as I promised to bring them some candy on my next visit.

Here is the bugger that I caught both of the fish on.

It turns out that Creek Chubs like it as well. If you can find a trout stream with Creek Chubs you will find large trout.

After fighting two epic battles I took a break on the shore. I had just enough energy left to snap a quick selfie. While becoming an expert at catching trophy trout has taken years of hard work my good looks are just a byproduct of superior genetics. Thanks parents!

This river has plenty of logs. "If it ain't got logs then it ain't got hogs." is what I like to tell my students about selecting rivers to fish for trophy trout.

As I came to this bend in the river a part of me wanted to see what lay beyond. It was still early and I could have fished for at least another two hours. I took some time to reflect on the day as well as the awesome summer I have had. It really couldn't have went any better so I decided to call it a day.