Happiest Fish Ever

Happiest Fish Ever.

 

We had stopped fishing between Pacific Creek and the Buffalo fork on the Snake River several years ago. The annual runoff had changed the side channel that was our first, favorite spot to fish. The side channel we had fished for hours, when I began fly fishing with my crew. Now, a dozen years later I was returning.

We were returning due to a comment by another angler. “It is fishing really well.” This was an understated clue, but I heard it. The young angler did not know that I caught what he said. The day’s destination just determined. I sought a bit more information regarding the hatch. “They are eating anything with foam.” The entire summer had been about foam. Foam refers to a type of fly that imitates mostly grasshoppers and stoneflies. Now, we were armed with the information we needed.

 

My cohort on the journey Landon Mitchell. The towering handsome son of one of my longtime friends. I have known Landon since he was 10 years old. He was in for several days of intense fishing. Landon in his mid-30s, had made the trip to Wyoming several times, and was always good for a laugh. He was a pretty darn good angler as well.

 

The original reason we liked the area years before, was easy access from the highway. It was river access only a quarter of a mile from the road. Today, the reason, “it is fishing really well.”

 

The usual procedure is to find good looking water, then catch fish. Today, we found good looking water, the fish were not cooperating. We continued to make our way upstream, fishing all the usual suspects. Eddies, downed trees, ripples. Maybe just a slow start?

 

Then it happened. I saw a huge fish swimming upstream feeding from some structure under the surface. This was a really big fish. He had a good-sized rock he was using to get out of the current. The rock, probably a couple of feet tall was lodged in some sand on the bottom of the Snake River. Trout often find places to rest between feeding that shelters them for the current, saving energy. There are no other fish around, so this is likely the dominant fish.

 

The strategy. How do we get close enough without spooking him? What is he eating? Having stalked many fish, this is where the good anglers excel. Landon is noticeably excited. So, we watch.

…and watch.

 

This big fish is darting up and eating something below the surface. Then returns to his spot behind the rock. Then he darts up again and returns to his place behind the rock. There is a rhythm. This time he eats at the surface, then returns to the rock. A couple of more times, and we are almost mesmerized by the rhythm.

 

The bug he is eating is so small, neither one of us can see it well enough to determine what it is. Therefore, we don’t know how to imitate it. We have now spent at least 15 minutes watching this fish. Then it occurs to me, this fish is happy. I see it every time he surfaces, and feeds. He is having fun. He is enjoying what he is doing. It is summertime, and he is eating. Joy.

 

“We don’t know what he is eating. If I throw something in there. It will just spook him.” I tell Landon. Landon is not going to give up the easy.

 

“Just throw what you got on and see what happens.” said Landon.

 

I made the cast. The second the hopper hit the water; he was gone.

 

“I was afraid of that” I said. “Just as well, that was one happy fish.” Landon agreed. “I was happy just watching him.”

 

“Let’s see if he comes back” I said hopefully.

 

It took about 10 minutes for him to return. He was right back in rhythm. Happy. Summer. Eating.

 

We watched for a few more minutes. I turned to Landon, ”I am done here.” There is nothing more to do. Let him be. The “Happiest Fish Ever”, Landon said to me. Agreed.

 

Sometimes, the best thing to do is nothing. Just enjoy life, summer, soon fall. Some may call this patience, maybe. Maturity, maybe. What comes to me, “if you cannot make a situation better, leave it alone.”