When the rains come

A series of precip events had left the Huron tribs high and unfishable the better part of the week. Arriving home from a stint in Michigan I notice they were on the drop and would fish for Friday. Having planned on returning to work I opted to extend my time off and jet up the lake for a big water adventure. From the chart I could see that she was on the edge from a flow perspective but had adequate time to clean up nicely. Arriving to the access point I found myself alone. I geared up and made the trek back to my starting run. Knowing the river would be big today I opted to deviate from a low water scenario and concentrate on a localized section that would afford minimal river crossings. On the hike down I made certain to locate an adequate staff to assist with the raging river as a few crossing would be inevitable. Arriving to the wintering hole prelight I could make out the shadowy image of two beavers crossing the river in the run just above. I found comfort in the fact that it really was just me and those two beavers in the Shire this morning and settled in while I waited for first light. As the sun begin to show its presence I could see that the river was big. She was running high and strong with that special emerald glow. I knew there would be fresh fish but I also knew that they would be scattered and in unusual locals. After an honest effort to no avail I opted to slid up to the new run as Norland and I refer to it to see if I could locate a few willing players. After hitting the usual drifts I recollect my thoughts and drifted an inside seam tight to my side of the river. Not a quarter of the way into the drift my float drops and I set up on a white hot chromer! This fish was on fire and screams across the run back and forth, up and down, violently thrashing about. This fish reminded me what true wild Huron fish are all about and really put my custom Rainshadow through the paces. I have really grown fond of that stick. The fact that I spun it up myself adds that much more meaning to each and every fish it lands. After what seems like the 5th or 6th long run I managed to persuade the hen into a small grassy cove where she willingly poses for a few pics and then politely carries on her way. Fighting fresh fish in big water has to be the pinnacle of the sport and one has to relish these moments. High water can be productive. Today the theme was simple. Explore the unexplored and endeavour and persevere. High water fish are typically in unusual locals. Its fun finding these fish and even more fun fighting them in Big flows. This tactic has proven true to me time and time again and today was to be no different. I couldn't think of a better way to spend a late October morning than at home in the Shire with Big Water.