Tag Archives: upper sacramento river

Upper Sacramento Brown Trout Tapes Out at 27? (or, Why We Officially Hate Wayne Eng)

Local fly fishing guide Wayne Eng used to grow so depressed when the Upper Sacramento River closed for the season, we considered confiscating his belt and shoelaces and placing him on suicide watch.

Now he gets to fish the Upper Sacramento all winter long (which is good, because it runs right by his home), and Wednesday, he was very, very happy the fishing season extends year-round. Why? Here’s 27 great reasons…):

Bigger than life? Wayne Eng's 27" Upper Sacramento Brown Trout

Bigger than life? Wayne Eng's 27" of Upper Sacramento Brown Trout happiness.

That’s an Upper Sacramento Brown trout which Wayne suggests taped out at 27 inches. That’s two-seven, Undergrounders. On a river not exactly known for its populations of monster brown trout.

He caught it on a (ta-da!) black woolly bugger – at a time when the rain and snow melt were just starting to drive higher flows and murk the water a bit – an awfully good time to go headhunting.

Still, these kind of fish have a tendency to appear in the winter, and you’re often left to wonder exactly where the hell they were all summer.

Hiding at the bottom of a deep pool? Living the high life in Lake Shasta? Lacking a hideously outsized government research grant more information, we’re not sure.

But at least we know the things exist.

See you at the fly bin, Tom Chandler.

The Underground’s Post-Thanksgiving, err… Post

The bird has been eaten and the relatives are seeing our driveway in their rear-view mirrors, and while holidays are always hectic, this might be the first in recent memory when fly fishing wasn’t even a blip on the radar.

That, of course, flies in the face of common sense; in what I’ll call one of the Upper Sacramento River’s Dirty Little Secrets, the October Caddis bite remains pretty good through the middle of December.

That means big fish on big dries, which is something I don’t take lightly.

Still, family get-togethers are rare things at the Trout Underground/Man Cave World Headquarters, and with Little M now racing around the house on two legs, it’s clear a new World Order has taken over.

Thus, does life nudge us forward.

The Turkey Talks, We Cringe

My Thanksgiving sadness extends beyond the lack of river time; in a move sure to disappoint the legions of Undergrounders, I must admit slightly undercooking the turkey on our charcoal Weber, despite producing perfect birds on several prior occasions.

In other words, I failed charcoal huggers everywhere.

I could recycle the same excuses widely employed for fly fishing (too hot, too cold, too many people lifting the lid/wading the river, etc), but all I can say is the fire just didn’t burn hot enough long enough.

I hang my head in shame.

The Word Count

More startling is this admission: I haven’t written a word in days.

In some ways, that bothers me more than the lack of fly fishing. I’m a writer by trade, and the absence of a little daily keyboard abuse raises alarms of every kind.

Never fear Undergrounders; two nearly finished posts are waiting the in the wings, and you’ll see them shortly.

The world my be spinning faster than it did ten years ago (OK, maybe it just seems that way), but we’re still on this horse.

This week, I begin teaching four nights a week for three weeks – the kind of honest workload that I simply have no stomach for. Sadly, the die is cast, and for three weeks, I’ll fill the role of hardworking, responsible educator/online marketing consultant.

Naturally, any sentence including the word “responsible” chafes the hides of fly fishers the world over, especially given that I’m not only hankering to get a little fishing in, but would love to annihilate a few more clay pigeons with the Browning, and yes, practice a little more precision shooting before the nearby range closes for the winter.

In other words – like my dinner plate on Thanksgiving – my recreational plate is also full of half-cooked goodies.

See you in the classroom, Tom Chandler.

The October Caddis Arrive Back In Town Before The Trout Underground (Damn)

It was late Saturday and the L&T and I were blasting our way up the Upper Sacramento River canyon – new, cranky daughter in the car seat and two barely conscious adults piloting – when the October Caddis started bouncing off the windshield (more on the trip later).

Sometimes, an unfortunate group of pumpkin-colored caddis sometimes mistake the I5 freeway for a river, forming up over the asphalt ribbon in ill-fated mating flights, and while cruel ironies are always appreciated at the Underground, I truly have little interest in seeing what an October Caddis looks like from the inside.

Big Fish on October Caddis?

Big trout on October Caddis dries? Yep, but not as often as you think...

Still, the caddis were flying, but after better than two weeks spent literally on the other side of the globe (completely without Internet access), the disconnection struck me, and I had to ask: “How did the caddis happen without me?”

The Caddis-Go-Round

The October Caddis have become a milestone event on the Upper Sacramento and McCloud Rivers; the October emergence of these amberish-colored, small-hummingbird-sized caddis often occurs in front of the year’s biggest crowds of fly fishermen (several fly fishing clubs plan outings), yet the weather – while often cold at night – is still pretty comfortable during the day.

The result are a lot of fly fishermen throwing big, big dry flies (#6-#10s) at trout, some of whom will actually eat the things in splashy, aggressive takes.

Of course, no fly fishing hatch comes without its “gotcha” moment, and what’s true is that often, the big October Caddis don’t generate much in the way of interest from the trout. In fact, it’s common to fish a #18 PED through an October Caddis hatch and catch more trout.

It’s also true – when I first wrote about the October Caddis in 2007 (”Fly Fishing the Upper Sacramento in the Fall: An October Caddis Primer“) – that the best October Caddis fishing might be found in early winter, when the bugs are dying and falling into the water.

Presumably, the trout “know” that dead bugs won’t make a last-minute getaway, and the party (as they say), begins.

Now For a Real Expert

Everything I’ve told you about the October Caddis I’ve said before (but oy, nobody listens, nobody writes, nobody calls, especially you kids with your iPods and fancy-pants phones, and hey get off my lawn).

Still, I’ve always stopped far short of claiming expert status around the October Caddis, mostly because I may have caught a fair number of big trout during October Caddis season, but never with the kind manly, chiseled-jaw confidence I have when hitting the Green Drakes of spring.

And while it seems that becoming an online commando is all the rage these days, I’m going to defer to someone who hasn’t spent the last month on kid-related stuff: Craig Nielsen of ShastaTrout.com, who does the responsible adult thing and posts real fly fishing reports while I’m over here changing diapers and ruminating on the power of bikini photographs to change our lives for the better.

Right now, it’s raining hard at Trout Underground/Man Cave/Soiled Diaper World Headquarters, and the river’s starting to come up, though the line between an unfishable river and a refreshing plug of water that turns on the trout is finer than you’d believe; at some point, both conditions may be true. (What, you wanted easy? Take up checkers…)

Simply put, I’m back, and there’s more to come, though what “more” looks like is yet to be determined.

See you fishing the October Caddis, Tom Chandler.