A Portent of Things to Come (SwittersB)

Well, I made the resolution. Get out there more. So, I did. With little regard to the temperature (air 26 degrees/water 39 degrees), I ventured forth. Wearing multiple layers, I donned the waders, boots and prepped the gear. Hmmm, where is the Skagit head? All I have is the Scandi? In short order, the ice was forming in the two stripping guides. A portent of things to come………

In very short order, I could only infrequently shoot the running line on the Scandi. I was lucky to get a decent cast out now and then. The decent casts (hard to come by anyway) became fewer and fewer. The stripping guides became clogged and almost invisible. I crunched away the ice, but that became ever more difficult. Short casts of the Scandi’s length plus maybe 5′ of running line beyond the tip became all I could manage.

A Touch of Warmth Afar

I covered the several hundred feet long drift without nary a tug, bump or roll. The Scandi head swung a pink Intruder less than a foot below the surface. Mending wasn’t an option to slow the swing and sink the fly a bit. It became ever more intrusive in my cold addled brain that I was at less than half efficiency. I wasn’t even able to at least practice casting with some diligence.

 

No excuses. Did not check gear before leaving home. The Skagit head would have swung a little deeper. Not sure what to do about ice in guides. Sprays, ointments, something to eliminate this? It brought my casting to a screeching halt. Swishing the rod in the water added insult to injury. Clothing with balaclava kept me comfortable with the exception of my Simms G4 Guide boots. Frankly, for the money ($200.+), I am disappointed in the boots. Going to have to consider a different purchase and not too happy about that!

Isn’t it amazing what one finds near those fish highways?

Streamside Ice Canvas

The outing is over. The waders frozen in the back of the truck were when I arrived home. All the gear stowed and the waders and boots set out to dry. Where is that Skagit head? After such a disorganized and sloppy outing, it is a good sign that I look forward to the next time. Always a good sign.