I fought the water and the water won

That’s the problem with being a member of the “working press” – what with the brutal deadlines, the fishing, and the lying-about fishing, I needed some decompress time  – so I went fishing.

I threw some fishing tackle in with a change of dry clothes, adding some beef jerky, Kashi bars, and some bananas, and pointed the rig north. I knew it was early still – but the lull that follows Opening Day is well known; all the faux-Sportsmen bust out for the Opener, alternately freezing and burning – then lick their wounds the following weekend.

I hit the Upper Sacramento on Friday and Saturday, and she hit back. Heavy bruising water – cold and swift, and deep enough so that anything more than a couple feet off the bank was a tenuous ambition.

Wading alone you’re prudent and cautious, and I tip-toed around the heavy stuff hoping to find a pocket of something with minimal IQ and low standards, but they were all abed.

Insects were evident but they were trickling off unmolested, two or three different mayflies and the occasional lumbering Giant Stone, as the birds were inactive, everything made it into the underbrush.

No fishermen, no fish, and plenty of water.

I did have the opportunity to meet Tom Chandler of TroutUnderground fame, a friendly and gracious fellow that opted to share the Upper McCloud. It’s a tad unnerving to fish with another blogger – in the back of your mind you know that one false step and you’re cover art.

As both of us were packing cameras we were on double good behavior, I used fly floatant on my dry flies, rather than Velveeta, and he did likewise.

A whirlwind tour of the McCloud waterfalls proved opportune – as they’re still swollen from snow melt and in rarified plumage.

Neither of us caught any fish – but as the photo’s attest, who cares. It’s a bit early still, TC measured the McCloud at a chilly 48 degrees, so you’ve time yet.

I found the $4.00 per gallon gas starts about 200 miles upstream from me, anyone thinking they won’t be curtailed by the expense is kidding themselves, as a tank-up and a tank-back adds $100 to the outing and that’s enough to give pause.

… and no, I didn’t wear my Brownline waders in all this pristine-ness. Formula 409 is a snack for those beasts – I left them in the back yard to control the cat population.

Technorati Tags: Upper McCloud, Upper Sacramento, bluelining, fishless fishing, Tom Chandler, Trout Underground