Second chances

Sometimes fly fishing offers us those golden moments of second (and even third) opportunity where everything works out perfectly...in the end at least. This is different from the last cast phenomenon. There are more opportunities for second or third chances in an average fishing day, whereas a last cast by strict definition should only occur once, although I will admit to taking several successive 'last casts' from time to time. There is nothing cosmic about second chances. We make these opportunities for ourselves in two ways - either through deliberately leaving ourselves a way out, or, more commonly, through deep character flaws like impatience, poor drift technique, inaccurate casting, casting a shadow or stepping too heavily. The former, I call higher probability second chances, the latter are low probability second chances. Either way it puts a positive spin on things.

On the RTMBN, the best way to access the beat I fish is through a reasonably dry meadow on the upstream side. You can access the river further downstream, but you'll have to walk aways upstream to where the fish are and you risk being stung to death by nettles or sinking in marsh muck depending on the season. I normally start upstream because I am impatient to begin fishing. Starting upstream puts you right in amongst the beautiful wild trout, but most of them will be downstream from you. This is a tremendous disadvantage on a chalkstream and so creates endless opportunities for second chances. These fish are exceedingly spooky. I've noticed that they aren't so concerned about seeing an angler on the river bank, but they are incredibly sensitive to hearing/ feeling one (I fish better when I wear sandals and have to pick my way very very carefully). They are also exceedingly line and leader shy. On a faster flowing freestone river, drifting a fly downstream can be a good way to catch line/ leader shy trout. But on a glass-smooth chalk stream, this is a really risky strategy. If the fish doesn't take the first time, you have two options: you can either try to lift the line and leader off the water quickly and gently (a tough combination when your line is being pulled away from you and only possible if there are no overhanging trees around), or you can gently strip the fly upstream in the hopes that the fish won't mind that a strange looking bug is defying the laws of physics. The second option rarely yields a second chance. It is decidedly low probability. The first is somewhat more reliable. I'd say it counts as a successful second chance about 25% of the time depending on what the fish sees. If the fish sees the fly line, that probability goes down to about 5-10%.

So, I guess the lesson thus far is to concentrate on more than getting it right the first time. This really just boils down to thinking ahead. There is a tendency in fly fishing to think so immediately about things - you see a rising fish, and you think (probably very briefly) about how to get the fly over him before you fire off a cast and a prayer. The angler that thinks in terms of what will happen after will create more opportunities for successful, higher probability, second chances. There is also something to be said for persistence. You should always take the opportunity for a second chance no matter what the odds. It is still possible, if not probable, that you will raise that difficult fish no matter how badly you flubbed the first presentation. In a way, a poor first attempt takes the pressure off the second (or third etc) try.

Sometimes things go perfectly the first time and still you find that you must hang your hopes on a second chance. Last night the RTMBN, was particularly glassy and still, save for the occasional tsk! noise of trout sipping spent caddis from the surface film. There is a trout in one particular stretch that I have been trying to hook for several weeks now. This fish happens to be conveniently located upstream from the access point, which theoretically increases my odds a little bit. He's not in a particularly difficult spot in terms of current and vegetation, but he lives out in the open, away from the shadow of the trees. He's big and he's very very spooky. You can't get anywhere near him or he just evaporates into the river. The required cast is about 40 feet upstream and to the other side of the river to a spot about 3 feet above him. Tippet only please.

Last night my first cast to that trout was absolutely perfect. I couldn't replicate it in 100 tries. I held my breath as my CDC and deer settled down ever so gently and began its journey. Every angler knows this feeling. Time slows. You experience a moment of absolute mental clarity as you tune into that primal, electrifying tension common to all carnivores about to spring on their prey.

The fly drifted past....nothing. Maybe he's gone hunting for himself? Maybe the otter got him. Maybe someone else caught him and (God forbid) took him. Once the fly was well clear, picked my line off the water and false casted over the field a few times (shaking droplets of water from the leader on the river is another great way to create opportunities for low-probability second chances). I changed direction and fired off a second cast upstream. This one was pretty poor. About 3 feet to the left of where I wanted to be, splashy, and way too much of the thicker butt end of the leader involved. The fly drifted for a second and then transformed itself into a crater in the surface of the river. I set the hook hard and the trout leapt from the water. Two minutes later, as I slipped the barbless hook from his mouth without touching him, I thanked him for giving me a second chance. Did I deserve it? Hard to say. I'm not going to worry too much about it.