Even if you are a pro fly fisherman like myself (obvious humor and I hope you did note that), always be prepared, even if you are only a lunchtime angler. An old pair of shoes and possibly clothing will certainly make your return trip to work a little more desirable, and possibly save you from being beat unconscious by the lady who mopped your room just that morning. Now, if you work in construction, landscaping, or a similar atmosphere, you are probably safe from any bodily harm. However, an office job where you interact with customers everyday adds more complexity to your preparedness. Having a tendency to live life on the edge, I disregarded this idea just a few days ago when I went fishing after it had rained nonstop the night before.

I admit it was disgustingly muddy, nobody else was down there, and I was fishing water that looks like chocolate pudding. But, if there is one thing my previous fishing experiences have taught me, rising muddy creek water can increase your chance of landing a nice fish, especially catfish. Ever notice how insects and worms seem to ooze out of the soil during a good hard rain. Picture the banks of a creek as a gigantic slip and slide, pouring uncountable numbers of these creatures into the water. Fish aren’t stupid, and they tend to know that a good rain means a smorgasbord of food.

After targeting several key spots with my homemade bream popper, I went with my second most successful warm water fly, the olive wooly bugger. This particular bugger had a medium size bead head. Just the right weight for fishing this type of water. The first few casts weren’t very successful, so I tried a deeper pool about 30 yards downstream. Sometimes you have to find the depth at which these fish are feeding, which can be quite time consuming…trust me! Upon the third cast into this pool, I let the bugger sink all the way to the bottom. A few gently tugs and the line wouldn’t budge. This particular creek is full of submerged trees, bushes, and probably things you wouldn’t even want to know, so I figured my bugger got hung up. Doing what any optimistic angler would do, I set the hook. Holy @#%!!! My line began racing off my reel as I ran up and down the bank, weaving my rod in between the many saplings along the bank. Having no clue what was on the end, my only option was to fight until it submitted, or until the line broke. Several times I got it to the surface, catching a brief glimpse of a fish, and it immediately countered by removing 15 more feet of line.

Seeming like an eternity, 15 minutes into the fight I began horsing the beast toward the bank and realized that it was about a 6 lb channel cat. How was I supposed to land this monster when this whole stretch of bank was a good 4 ft. above the water. The 5 lb tippet surely wouldn’t survive if I tried to crane the fish up onto the bank. I couldn’t lay down in the mud to grab it since I have on my good work clothes. On the other hand, this would be the first catfish I ever caught on a fly rod and probably the biggest fish too. So, I did what any responsible and dedicated office employee, who had to be back to meet with customers later that evening would do, I began climbing down the muddy bank. Anyone disagree with that choice? If so, you probably aren’t a dedicated fisherman.

Nobody ever said this was a pretty fish, but he sure knows how to put up a fight.

While gripping the base of a small sapling with one arm and hanging off the 4 ft ledge with my foot on nothing more than a jutting clump of mud, I manage to grab the fish and place him up on the bank. I had forgot to bring my good camera with me so my blackberry would have to suffice. Remembering I left my phone in the jeep, I sprinted to get it. Unknowingly, there had been another gentleman fishing just 75 yards up from me and had been watching with both astonishment and disgust. He was apparently amazed that I had landed such a fish on a fly rod with an artificial lure when he had been fishing the entire time with live worms and minnows. As I took the photo and set the old catfish free, I saw the guy who had watched in amazement, dump out all his bait in the water , jump in his car, and sling gravel as he left. Guess someone was a little upset today, but it sure wasn’t me. Maybe I was a little muddy, possibly too dirty to go back to work, but I’d say it was well worth the effort.

When I say I wrestled him up the bank, I wasn't playing around. Check out all the dirt on this guy.

Tags: catfish, fly fishing, lunchtime angler, North Alabama, olive wooly bugger

This entry was posted on Monday, April 20th, 2009 at 6:00 am and is filed under Fly Fishing, The Lunchtime Angler. The author is Dewayne Ricketts. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.