Open For Business

Dates: March 28, 2010
Location: Warwick
Air temp: 50s
Water temp: ?
Hatches: ?
Fish landed: maybe 10 (browns & bows)

Present members of the Fly Anglers Guild :|: Upper Midwest Chapter, for this outing were:

Xan


Aw shit.  It's on.  The Warwick was now finally free from the cruel grip of winter.  The ice was gone and the levels were right.  When I go fishing these days, I can be assured of two things.  1. My right foot will get wet.  2. The Warwick has some fat fish.

I first went to one of my favorite runs, a bit upstream from the park.  As I got to work, I realized I was in for a long day of brisk wind.  Casting in between gusts, I hooked into a solid fish and fighter.  The moment I'd been waiting for all winter was finally here... until the fish popped off.  I went up the run, lost some flies, then, not satisfied, fished the run again.  This proved to be a good idea, landing a few fish, including a decent piggy.  


Driving downstream to the next lot, I didn't find much success.  I pulled a brown out of the pool, but lost more flies.  It came to the point where I had to put on a new leader and ditch the 5x tippet that seemed to have gone bad. 


Next up:  Waterfall.  This is a pretty unique spot.  Not only is the scenery magnificent, and the fish large, it is also a bit of an exhibitionist endeavor.  On a nice day, you'll find numerous people milling about, enjoying the sights and breathing in the water vapor.  A couple of ladies were on the bridge, and after some time, I got the sense they were watching me.  I hooked into two fish, landing one.  They soon came over to me, and one of them told me her friend had taken some pictures of me fishing.  The photog came over, and showed me the snaps.  They asked for my email address to send me the pics.  I gave it to them, thanked them, and they went on their way.


Going up to level two of the falls, I found no fish.  Level three, nada.  Hiking upstream a ways proved just as futile.  I decided to end my day back at the falls to further indulge my exhibitionism.  I did not disappoint.  Soon into my return, my indicator twitched, I set, and a decent sized fish was on.  I could feel the eyes watching me as I fought the fish like a pro.  After an epic battle, a sucker, which I had hooked in the back, came out of the water.  It thrashed about and broke off my dropper, taking my pink squirrel back whence it came.  The crowd then threw stones and rotten vegetables at me, which was well deserved.  I continued on for a bit, landing proper fish, of the bow and brown variety.  The end of my day came just below the falls, where a chub grabbed my dropper, giving me a Warwick Grand Slam.