The curse of the GoPro continues, and it’s mighty strong voodoo! When the camera is rolling, I may as well take a nap, for as little action as I’ve been getting “on film.” As soon as the battery dies, the fish start eating. It’s gotten to the point that the next time I go fishing I’m thinking of taking the camera along with a deliberately low battery, just so I don’t have to wait a couple of hours for the fun to begin.
I fished the Yellowstone River on Sunday and Monday. On Sunday, I hit a couple of my usual haunts above Yankee Jim Canyon. The fishing was slow (see above) and I only landed a couple of small trout. On Monday, I fished a nice pool a little below Point of Rocks. After a fruitless time of concentrating on the head of the pool, where the current dumped in, I was about to give up. Then I heard the telltale beeps from my forehead indicating that my battery had run out. Eager to test the “curse” theory, I moved down the pool a bit and began casting just short of the main current. The water there was quite deep, so I moved my indicator way up my leader, just a foot or so short of the fly line. In the next hour, I landed a good ten cutthroat and rainbows. Nothing too big, all in the 12-16″ range, but beautiful, feisty fish. One of the ‘bows must have jumped at least 5 times. Wish I could show you photos or video, but by now you know my problem. As far as fly selection, well, they were eating anything I put on, as long as it was a size 6 or 8 Rubberlegs. Color didn’t seem to matter, but the trout ignored a number of different smaller dropper nymphs. Go figure.
My little story would be incomplete if I didn’t mention another little trick that the devilish GoPro decided to play on me. I had neglected to remove it from my hat brim when the battery went out. An errant cast in the wind took care of that; I heard a smack, then a plop, and helplessly watched as the camera sank to the bottom of the waist-deep water. Though I could barely see it through the murk that kicked up every time I moved half an inch, I managed to bend down and plunge my arm down to the bottom. I felt the camera on the second try and triumphantly brought it to the surface. Cold water cascaded into my jacket and down the inside of my waders. I was soaked. The warm sun kept me at it for a while, and I caught several more fish. But then the clouds rolled in and I was forced to retreat, shivering, to warmth. The stupid camera had won again!
The forecast is for continued warm weather. Get out there while the getting is good (and you can have a stretch of river to yourself). And consider leaving the video camera at home, unless you need a few last scenic shots for your entry in our video contest.0