SE WA Fishing Report, And a BIG thank you to R.L. Winston

[Zen Piscator]

This Monday and Tuesday I went to Notellum creek for 2 days of camping and fishing. Normally when I go to creeks as such I would not post a report, it would not help anyone, and if I told of a creek, it would risk increasing pressure on an unknown but for the most part largely accessible waterway. But, I will give this to u anyone, along with an interesting note on the costumer service of the R.L Winston Company compared to the repair department of that same company.
I got to the river at about 4pm, and fished until 9:30. Along with 2 other people, I covered 9/10ths of a mile. Water temp was 64 degrees when we started, 63 or 62 when we finished, can’t remember which. We landed quite a bit of fish, running from 6 to 16 inches. I also caught some Chinook, put up an amazing fight; the biggest was around 3 inches, bright and full of spite. Who cares if they were smolts, I caught a Chinook on a 4wt, so there. All the trout we caught a dry/nymph combo, or a dry alone. The best flies were stimmies in a sz 12, ehc same sz, for wet, I just used a weighted red fox squirrel softhackle will a red tag and a red head. The nymph caught about 4 of every 5 fish, maybe more. Interestingly enough, most of the fish over 12in came on the dry, don't ask my why. Most fish came from shallow riffles, from 6 inches to about 2 feet deep max. Didn’t catch many fish from the pools, although I lost one that may have been 18-20" in one of the pools. No hatch for the first 4 hours of fishing, the last bit, there were mayflies in about a sz 20 and caddis in about a 16 or 14, I caught fish on a sz 16 ehc caddis the entire time, one about 16 inches. She took a bit of time to land, ran into the pool downstream, wedged herself under a log, and I had to give slack to get the fish out. She was one of the most beautiful fish I have ever caught. A perfect example of a Columbia basin red band trout. The perfect spots and white tipped fins stay in my memories. We set up camp and ate with caddis buzzing around our heads. The hatch had really gotten big, and we regretting leaving when we did, but we didn’t have out camp fully set up.
Got up the next day, hit the river around 9 due to some disagreement on where to fish, some wanted to go for bull trout, despite my argument that it was illegal to target them. Whatever, I wasn’t driving so I lost. I didn’t care; we were going way up the creek, into the mountains, where it was small and very cold, and very beautiful. The water was 52 degrees, bull trout should be abound. Did I mention it was beautiful, seems that wherever bull trout and redband are, it is always beautiful. The river was down in a pine-covered gorge, everything was green, and the river was not the same as further down. The water was different, im not sure how, but it was. Maybe a different color, because of the nutrients, it was very strange. My friends fish for bull trout while I tried to get some more bows. I got some on a dry; one very heavily spotted one on a stimmie drifted through a side channel. The fishing was slower; I guessed it was because the bull trout begin to replace the bows on this stretch of the river. Anyways, I flung some eggs and streamers for steelies I had heard rumors of, but nada. I went down to change flies after I had broken my bugger off, only to find my pack was not with me. A word that rhymes with duck was shouted so loud it echoed, and I felt like a fool. I retraced every step I had taken, and found nothing but disappointment. This was just not my day. I trudged back up to my friends, who had decided to head down lower and catch more redbands. I walked back to the car, not feeling like fishing much.
That pack had my box of carefully tied flies, the one I use on little freestoners like this creek, and some new flies I had tied to try and entice trout by using what I though where the things they keyed in on while feeding on any insect in general. It also had my letherman micro, 100 yards of 5x tipper, 30 yard of 4x and 7x tippet, maxima leader material, keys for my bike lock, the watch I use for fishing, and my license, which has my drivers permit in it. I really needed those things back, they where all pretty important. I looked a little more around the car, then opened the door and got in the backseat. I felt something beneath my feet. Hell yes, my pack. I had forgot to put it on while getting reading to hit the creek earlier that morning. I was relieved to say the least. Maybe it was my day.
We moved downstream, and I was getting pumped for a day of egg laying caddis and rising trout. We moved into the creek and found no fish rising, so I begin prospecting with a softhackle. The catching was slow, got about 40 fish in the first 4 hours, nothing over 12. I moved up to a deep run, and suspected it to hold fish, a prime lie, deep water for protection, and insects in the fast oxygenated water, everything a trout would want in midday. I decided to fish the run very slow, fishing each little slot and foam line, I told my friend I really wanted the run, so he moved on, in search of some deep pools. I spent a long time fishing the water, about an hour. I caught a whole bunch of bows, one pushing 14inches. This made me very happy. I missed something that was 20 plus, maybe bigger. Probably a steelie. Its rise to the dry was barley noticeable; it looked like the rise of a Chinook smolt. When I set the fish jumped and took of downstream. Oh god I though, a steelie on a dry with 5x tippet, sweet balls dude. The fish was only on for about 3 seconds, im guessing I didn’t give it enough time to eat the fly and turn, and I probably didn’t stick it, when it opened its mouth, out went the fly. As one amazing fisherman by the name of Ryan Davey once said “I was gutted” and I was. But, that’s not gonna help get this fish back, its gone now.
Anyways, I went around the bend looking for my friend, and the next, and the next, he couldn’t have gone this far, I didn’t know where the hell he was. This got me worried, a lot. He fallen, the stream was hard wading and he was just getting used to wading, he had started fly fishing just in this past year. I went back downstream, looking for feeder creeks or distributaries he may have gone up. I found a few but he was not up any of them. I got really worried. I walked back down to find his dad, and have him get the car to drive up so we could look in the spots where he should have been. If he were hurt, we would have a car right there to get him outta there and to a hospital. I waded down, and almost steeped into a Chinook salmon, about 20lbs. Water flew up from the tail as the fish sped through the creek into the next riffle. Pretty cool, I didn’t think any springers where up this far yet. It was so powerful, I couldn’t invasion landing one on a fly, but I am going to the Frazer River in BC to try anyways. I kept walking, past all the spots I would have expected his dad to be, but he was not at any of them. I was getting really worried, I knew he wouldn’t go downstream, plus he was relying on me for flies, so he should have been close. What the hell was going on? I knew he wouldn’t be down as far as I was, and I didn’t know what the heck to do.
I had some theories about what had happened. First, I had been transported to a parallel universe where everything was the same, but I was the only human in this world. The river was the same, and I tried fishing, but did not catch any trout for about 10 min. In this universe, there must not be any trout, or the must be very smart. There were still caddis flies on the rocks, so I assumed there were also trout. The heat must have really been getting to me. Another theory was that I was still in the same universe, but my friends had both gotten hurt or one had gotten hurt and the other found him, and they had gone to get help. It must have been severe enough to warranty leaving me on the stream. If that had happened, I would figure that there car would be gone, and a note would possibly be left in its place. I had water and food enough for a day or 2, and I would be fine, they new they could leave if something had happened. I found a trail up to the road. I would walk the road until I found the pull off our car was it. After a bit of walking, I saw the car, but no people around it, so I figured they must still be on stream. I decided I would walk to the car and wait until they came, if they didn’t come in an hour or so, I would flag someone down and call the cops. I walked to the car and checked if it was open. A window rolled down and a head poked out. “ The fishing was no good upriver, so I walked the road back to the car, plus I ran out of water” Alex (my friend) was sitting in the back, enjoying a coke and some Fritos. His dad was sitting up front, putting some sunscreen on. “I was not catching many fish, and the sun was getting to me, so I walked back down to the parking lot to put some sunscreen on and get a drink. “What the hell guys” I stammered. “I have been looking for you for 2 hours, that was not cool”. Not that they had done anything wrong, it was just a strange occurrence of events that made for a horrible afternoon for me.
We agreed we should go further downriver, and fish where we thought there would be more bows. We got downriver, and I started searching a run that I had caught fish in earlier. I took a few fish from the tail, and had just started a powerful roll cast to dry my fly when something didn’t feel right. I felt a jolt, a snap, and my rod suddenly looked very short. I got a very sick feeling; I knew exactly what had happen. The top section of my 3pc Winston had became loose, and flew off during the cast. I guess I sorta knew the rod may come loose, I had been using it about 4 or 5 days a week for the past 4 years, and it seemed to be getting loose. But I handed had it come off until this trip. It came off once before that day, but I market it up to my error, not putting the rod together correctly or something. I Ran into the creek, trying to spot the piece. I looked below the run in a logjam for a while, but found nothing. By this time my rod was probably 500 yards downstream, if not more. I was beyond gutted this time around. For the Winston warranty to be in effect, you must have the entire rod, even the broken or dysfunctional part.
I first got this rod when I was living in Belgium. I had just started to love fly-fishing, and at the time I was using a 6wt rod with a foot broke off the tip of it. I decided to match it with a 3wt line, knowing nothing of weights of rods and how much they can matter. My dad looked all over Idaho and Washington for a rod, he didn’t know anything about fly fishing, but throw wiggle tests, he wasn’t pleased with the orvis, sage, st. croix and t&t rods he tried. Finally not knowing what to do, he stopped a sign with a large model of a royal coachmen. He went into the shop and saw more sages. He explained that he was looking for a rod for his son, who was just started but who fished every free moment. He said he didn’t have 500 or 600 bux to spend, but really wanted to best he could get. The shop owner smiled, and told him to come into the back. He pulled out a Winston 4wt IM6, a rod that was being change to the WT that year. He told me dad to give it a wiggle. My dad loved the way it felt, but saw the $560 price and handed it back. But the shop owner knew something my dad didn’t. Because Winston was changing the rod to the Wt that year, he was selling the im6 for a little more than half price, just trying to move then out. I think he gave my dad a little better deal that what he was selling them for, and because if this my dad was able to buy it.
I was living with my two sisters and mom, and hadn’t seen my dad for 4 months. I stood at the airport, watching person after person get off the plane. Finally I saw my dad, and ran up and hugged him. He was holding a dark green metal tube. I thought I knew what it was. We drove home and my dad told me I should open it now, he was only gonna be there for a few days, no sense in waiting for my birthday, the last day he would be there. The Dull rod tube betrayed its contents. Also I had never heard of this “Winston” company, so I didn’t think they where gonna be any good. I took the cap off, and pulled the rod from the tan cloth sock. It was more than I had hoped for. The green finish glowed in the lamplight; the nickel silver reel seat and zebra wood insert looked like something a real fly fisher would have on their rod. I gave my dad a hug, and told him it was more than I had wished for. He stopped me, and said “Andy I think you will need this” It was a brand new 4wt we wonderline, an unexpected surprise.
That rod was perhaps the only thing that kept me going in Belgium. There was hardly any fish near Brussels, and the only fishing pond I knew of was owned by a club who didn’t permit fly fishing. I took it down to a local lake and practiced casting whenever I had some free time. I taught myself all the casts I could think of and that I had read about with rod. It is a slow rod by today’s standard, and because of this, I would feel the rod load, which helped a lot with my timing.
As you can see, I liked this rod a lot, and it had a lot of sentimental value to my dad and me. He was less that thrilled to hear of its loss. I didn’t know what the hell to do, but I emailed Winston customer service and asked if there was anything that could be done to get my rod back. $135 could get the tip section from the factory. $135 bux I didn’t and wouldn’t have for quite a while. I asked my mom what I should do, she though I needed to make a call to Winston, or rather she should call. Angry mothers can be quite persuasive. She called the customer service #, and a lady told her that she would have to pay, but if she wanted to talk to the people in repairs she was free to do so. She was connected which a person in repairs within seconds. She told them about me, and how the rod had a defect, therefore should be replaced. If the furrel came loose, it’s the rod builder’s fault isn’t it? They agreed to cover it, without much trouble or begging. I was overjoyed, this was not part of the warranty, Winston had gone above and beyond what was needed, in the interest of the customer and not themselves. My casting students and people I fish with will from now on get my recommendation to Winston because of the outstanding service they offer. There rods arnt half bad either.

Peace,
Andy

“If I do not catch them today I will catch them another day”
-Art Flick

http://www.danica.com/flytier/asimon/asimon.htm

[Zen Piscator]

Winston says the rod will be back in 2 weeks, pretty fast. Also, i cant seem to edit the above post, so bear with me if there are more than a few mistakes

[Bob Triggs]

No wonder these rods are so expensive!...you got it for less than cost and still hit them up them for a replacement?!

I heard this winter that the rodmakers will be pulling back on their repairs and services over the next few years because of abuses by people taking unfair advantage of the warranty programs.

[wrench]

Wow, I'm impressed, if I tried typing that long of a post would take me two hours!! Gonna shoot you a email...