I seem to remember the ones I've lost better....

[Baughb]

I absolutely LOVE the hero shots that proliferate the internet especially the impossibly large fish coming from little streams and creeks yet, while I have pictures and even some video of my own, the memory that I joyfully play and replay in my mind was the one that got away on Silver Creek.

Being from Southern California, the fish that grow locally rarely get to hero status and the bugs I fish are typically minuscule so in my travels to the beautiful environs of the Rocky Mountain west, I am always delighted when I get the chance to fish a size of bug that is big enough to see and a joy to tie. On my second trip to south central Idaho, my new favorite place, I continued my initiation on of the most lovely spring creeks in the world under the tutelage of a local guide and her talented husband. After fishing with them and taking as many mental notes as I could, I spent the next few days working the river as they had suggested with good success.

One late morning, with green drakes on the water, I was working my way down stream casting to the undercut banks with good success and I was having a blast. I approached a bank that is often traversed by fishers getting into the river as it is near to the stream side trail so as I debated crossing to get out and try some "new" water, I rolled a smoke and stood in the creek looking around with a grateful heart towards the God who created all of this. Deciding to continue downstream in the along the creek, I tied on a green drake pattern that I had tied myself that actually seemed to be a good imitation and greased my line up for a clean drift.

My upstream, reach cast has been getting a lot of practice and I continued to cast to the bank working on the elusive drag free drift and as the bug drifted by the bank, right at a point where the muddied, clean spot that had been worn by wading boots sliding into the water met the river, a huge wake came out from under the bank and poking out of the head of that wake was a huge, white mouth poised for chomping whatever was in the way. I lifted my 4wt rod tip up in a defensive response, almost as if I was trying to pull the fly away and just out of shock, when the weight of this lovely fish came tight against my line. It shot downstream and soon I saw my backing beginning to spool off my reel. As I walked/ran/stumbled downstream to chase this fish, I saw it jump... now I know they look bigger in the air but, this fish was huge! When it landed it sounded more like a kid's cannonball dive than a splash with a satisfying "splooosh" rather than a "splat" and it had then slowed enough for me to regain some line and some sense of "control". I've heard it said and I saw it that day, my rod was doubled over, bowing to the power of this fish.

As they do, it headed for cover and that cover was in the form of a root ball of a tree that grew along the bank and hung out, over the water. It went deep and after a few seconds of "ohmyGod, ohmyGod" I successfully horsed it out from under that root filled tangle just in time to see it jump again... I remember saying "Thank You" out loud and as it descended back into the water, I'm sure I giggled like a 12 year old watching "Porky's". The fish headed back towards the root ball and jumped towards it at which point, my 5X tippet got caught in the branches of the overhanging tree and then came the sickening (but strangely satisfying) "Pop" of my tippet as the fish sank below the root ball followed by a massive wake heading downstream unencumbered by my puny tethering. And then it got quiet.

What a great fish! The "one" that got away, etc., etc. So that's my example for ya'll. No pics, no nothing but, another reason to keep fishing and caring for those places where we get to fish. Happy Thanksgiving to you.

[Artin]

With a story like that who needs pictures?

Loved that read, good on you man. Those are the ones that deserve to get away. Keeps me, at least, on my toes.

Artin

[FIGHTONSC]

Thanks Baughb for a great post!

Wife and I got our building permit approved last week by the City of Eagle (two hours west of Silver Creek) and slab/foundation work is finally beginning on our new home. Your post makes me wish I was there now!

It's funny as one becomes more seasoned, that more often than not, when you lose a nice fish (like you did) that you are often rewarded by receiving enhanced character and an indelible memory of the event for the rest of your days.

Again, thanks for sharing your special day on Silver Creek.

Best regards,

Jeff

[BrownBear]

How right you are! Wasn't it Simon and Garfunkel who sang about the Kodachrome in your mind rather than the black and white....

My favorite didn't last nearly so long as your encounter. We were floating the Big Hole and enjoying really great fishing with many topping 20". My bud was on the sticks and showing his past years of guiding the river with intimate knowledge, putting me into backwaters and out of the way hot spots that most folks floated right on past.

He had me switch to a spinner even though we hadn't seen any on the water, then he tucked the raft back in behind some intervening boulders near shore, rowed back upstream a bit until the eddying current started pulling him forward, then used the oars to hold me about 30' off a scum line running "upstream" behind a big boulder before curling out into the main current and disappearing on its course back downstream. Hard to describe (and probably even harder to interpret my description), but at his direction I started watching for noses poking up into the scum. He cautioned me that I'd only get one cast because the fish that hung there were big, experienced and smart. I watched and watched, then saw a lazy nose. Didn't look particularly big, but noses can be that way.

I watched a little longer, and timed the rhythmic rises while reading the little micro currents on my side of the scum line. I false cast a few times to side of the scum line to get the distance right plus a little, then hooked my cast while stopping the rod high, ready to lower it and beat the drag as the current moved away from us.

Dream cast. Everything went right and the little spinner dropped in place a couple of inches off the scum line and about 18" up-current from the nose, landing just as the nose disappeared and just close enough to be drifting over it next time it came up. I giggled like a kid at the cast and my bud sealed the deal with an admiring "Whoooaaaa...."

The nose came right back up, the fly disappeared, I paused with the requisite New Zealand "God Save the Queen," then raised the rod tip to a solid hookup. I was NOT prepared for just how hard that fish pulled!

It spun away from us for about 10', but rather than continuing out into the main river, it finished its turn and came screaming right up current at us. I stripped like crazy, but was nowhere near returning to contact when the fish shot right under the raft and continued out into the main current....

The rod tip snapped sharply down into the water when the fish came up tight, then went slack when the 5x leader parted. I haven't had a fish give me the shakes like that in years!

Dunno how big it was, but it was BIG! We already had a bunch in the 20"-22" range, but I can't remember a one of them. The glimpse of this golden brown form passing under the raft made those look small, and I'll never forget it.

My bud laughed and said "Told ya you'd like that spot."

He guessed it was the same fish that broke him off a week before with his wife on the sticks, but that time it had continued out into the main current rather than coming under the raft, breaking off behind a boulder out there in the stronger flows.

Yeah, I really want to get back on the Big Hole, even as this time I'll be on the sticks and he'll be standing up.

[fivefish]

Nice! I have lots of stories of fish that got away, and one (that everyone here has probably heard so many times they roll their eyes) of a big trout that was landed, but one of the ones I'll remember for a long time will be a largemouth bass I tangled with at Lake Las Vegas. It was in the full heat of summer, a day where the high was I think 120 degrees. It was ridiculously hot, so I could only muster up enough courage to get out in the evening for a little right before dark to chase the large carp in the lake, landing one at about 15 lbs while the tourists cheered me on. Later that evening though I decided to go sneak out and fish a topwater mouse pattern that I love (Solitude Fly's "Mouseketeer").

It was about 1 AM, completely dark except for the lights around the dock. There was a pocket along the side of the dock that was dark and tucked up against a steep rock ledge with just a little light peeking through, so I made a long cast into that corner, right on the dock edge, and paused for a bit (I always wait at least 10 seconds before moving a topwater fly for bass), then started the slow, methodic rythm... "pop...pop...pop...pause...". On the pause, the water erupted like a cannonball hit it, I buried the hook, and it was ON. This was a HUGE bass, much bigger than any I've ever landed. It tail walked multiple times, did a few more cannonballs, then headed for the dreaded pilings under the dock that I delicately maneuvered a carp through earlier in the day. Unfortunately for me, I'm lazy, and I tied that bass fly on to the 3x tippet I was using while fishing for the somewhat more shy carp instead of retying my tippet heavier. When I put some backbone on the fish to try to keep it out of the pilings I snapped it.

I stood there in the silence of the night, in awe, not able to do anything except stare into the water where the bass won the fight. That would have likely been the first bass in the teens that I'd caught, and now it's just another memory of a fish that got away.

[WanderingBlues]

The one that got away? I would be better served having Papa tell the tale. You know, epic winter storm, throwing a 3wt in big brown water, the kick off to an awesome Volcano Party..