At some point in every fly fisherman’s life there comes a time where you have an opportunity to fish a beat but with not much time in hand. This was the case for two Bug Chucker Inc members and a tag along river hippie this past weekend. We ventured once again south of the Mason Dixon to our sweet spot to be awarded with good fish, good beer, good food, and most of all, good times.
The Irishman got in on Friday night to secure our lodging while myself and my five finger shoe river hippie of a brother got in Saturday night. From Washington, Pa to the Deep Creek area it takes you just a hackle hair over a buck thirty to get there going the limit. We left at 5:00 and arrived on the banks of the Savage around 7:00. Took us a little longer because we had to get wood and Norman was home so we could not acquire it from that location and ended up paying for it. Buying wood is a bunch of bullshit, but whatever. After getting camp set up, which consisted of two tents and a make shift homeless hut in the back of the Rig, we began boozing at a good solid rate. By dark fall, many good conversations were started and finished to only fall blank in memory the next day….due mainly to Jameson and Southern Comfort. The night carried over into morning, and around 2:30 we decided to call it one for the books, especially if we were going to be worth a shit on the water.
Three hours later I awoke to water dripping onto my head from the bloody fucking monsoon that fell on us but by 9ish the rain lifted and the fishing began. The day before Steve-o knocked off a Savage River grand Slam “Brown, Bow, Brookie”. On this day we started at 7X flats and worked upstream to the PHD Hole only to get a few fish. The fish that were landed were above average fish for the Savage. Fished stones and scuds because they were under every rock. Size 12 and smaller for the stones and size 14 & 16 for the scuds. Had a few lookers no takers on those flies. Missed two decent browns on a guides choice Hares Ear. Had success with size 8 streamer patterns. In an hours time I only saw two rises down by the flats and that was it for the whole day. The mayflies were very few and far between consisting of a midge and other small shit that pisses me off to tie and fish. A key thing to remember when fishing the Savage or any other water at low levels is to realize the fish are in those cracks, small seams, under the boulders. Remember to fish those tight spots in times like this and just not the main channel or the fishy looking spots. Fish Tight and you will be awarded.
When the brother awoke from his alcohol coma, he came wandering down the river to inform me that it was time to roll. Got up off the water around 2:30, packed camp and hit the road back north to arrive at the exact time we left the day before…..24 Hour Run. The trip was short but well worth it. The fishing could have been better, the rain could of held out, had to pay for wood, and all the other things that could have made it nicer would of been cool but that’s not why we do these trips. We do these trips for the experience and the stories so we can share to others what it is like to be a bug chucker.
Screw small flies…..Go big nasty style or go home.
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I’m lucky enough to be able to bounce out of the office at 3pm on Fridays in the Summer, so that’s exactly what I did. Ran home, loaded the gear into the back of La Poderosa and south I went…slowly…Effing traffic on rt 51 is for shit until you get down past Century III mall, but I should have known better. Once I got on the redheaded illegitimate of a turnpike, rt 43, it was smooth sailing. I took the scenic route out the national road to Keyser’s ridge then took 219 into Deep Creek. The whole time hoping I’d make it to the Savage by dark and before the Wood and Worms honor stand boarded up for the night.
I did, and camp was made, fire built, hot dogs cooked, beer drank, cigar smoked. I toyed with the idea of staying up to watch the meteor shower, but the full moon high over head meant it would be a long time before the first meteor drizzle would be visible. A long week, and hustle to drive and make camp left this Bug Chucker tired. I crashed out and woke sometime the next morning. After a quick bite to eat I hit the water.
First to the Phd hole. There were some consistent rises and I tossed a variety of BWO and generic looking looking emergers. I kept missing fish and was getting a little ticked. Figuring I had spooked the pool, I moved up to the next spot. First cast, nice chunky rainbow. Now, I’m a native fishist, and was really tempted to keep that alien of a fish in what is to be managed as brookie water, but dinner was a long way off, and didn’t feel like messing with it so early in the morning, there’d be others…
I hear about seven car doors slam and realized that I was about to have some company…I didn’t want company. Sometimes a Bug Chucker just wants it between him, the river and the fish. I wandered down the road to 7x flat. There was some water flogging going on and decided to head further down stream and work my way back up to Garret bridge. I haven’t fished that beat much, but it certainly paid off. First hole and I nailed a brownie on a caddis, followed by a brook on a caddis.
I work back up stream, catching another brown and two more brookies before breaking for lunch. A quick nap and some wandering around looking for bears and rattle snakes to while away the afternoon. About 5pm I head back to the river.
No luck, A few more swings and misses. A hole up above the Phd hole got a new name however due to the ignorant, lazy, no good, river-defiler leaving his unholy pile on the bank… Can you guess its new name? Needless to say, that’s a sign to get back to camp, have a beer to wipe that image out of my head and get ready for the Brothers G arrival.
KG’s recounting of the evening won’t be improved on, but it was a heck of a night. I enjoy the mix of solitude and and doing things up Bug Chucker style on the same weekend. The rain kind of sucked, but the day cleared up beautifully.
I only managed a solitary rainbow below the Garret bridge on Sunday. I took to playing with the camera in hopes of gaining some kind of skill with the lens. Not being ready to go off the grid quite yet, I packed up to head home when KG did; had to get ready for another week in the office. Damn, though, it was a good time as always with Bug Chuckers, Inc.