Sometimes You Should Just Stay Home

Before I get into today, this is post #800. One more milestone passed. 

Just in case you haven't seen it on TV, once again California is on fire. Or maybe it's still on fire.

The one closest is the King Fire just north of Pollock Pines about 41 miles from me by the way Google flies. On the way to where I was going this morning, I took this picture. Still about 30 miles from where I was. On Sunday the fire was 3,000 acres. On Monday it had grown to 8,600 acres. This morning it was 11,500 acres. 

On the news they were showing people standing in the parking lot of the Shell Station in Pollock Pines looking at the fire. I mention this because during the Cleveland Fire (22,485 acres) back in 1992, I was standing in that same spot looking at that fire. Kind of like Deja Vu all over again (thank you Yogi Berra).

The King fire

Last time I was up at Silver Lake I talked to the "host" about fishing and so forth. She mentioned that the DFW requires Silver Lake to release 2.5 cfs, always, to keep water in Silver Fork of the American River for the native Rainbow and Brook Trout populations.

That means there was probably water in the creek. That's where I went this morning.  

I stopped at eight mile bridge (where they do the stocking, when they do the stocking)  and there were already a couple cars parked there, so probably people fishing. Drove to another spot and there again people parked and probably fishing. I stopped at the bridge (where I found all that good stuff last year) and that was the place. 

Upstream from the bridge

Downstream from the bridge.

Looked good, plenty of water, no one around. My kind of place.

Rigged up "3" with a yellow paralyzer and climbed down to the water. Second cast and fish on and then fish off. That went well.

This is the where that fish was.

First hook up

A look downstream

About that time is when everything went to hell. For some reason, I started fumbling around like I never held a fly rod in my life. Every cast was in the bushes. Every other cast had the fly wrapped around the rod. I'd do a double haul to dry the fly a little and on the second haul, in the bushes.

I moved to another spot and in the bushes, around my leg, in the rocks. I was like a Bozo with a fly rod. I would move to where there was a nice hole between the bushes. First back cast, in the bushes. Get the fly out of the bushes and the line was wrapped around the rod.

I have never felt like such an imbecile in my life. If I hadn't just paid almost $200.00 for that fly rod, I would have smashed it on the ground, I was that frustrated. Yes, I know it wasn't the fly rods fault, BUT.

I reeled in the line, cut off the fly, and went home. End of story. Sometimes you should just stay home.