
                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: SUNDAY, May 8, 1994                   TAG: 9405080017
SECTION: SPORTS                    PAGE: C-12   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: BILL COCHRAN
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Medium

TKO BY DETERMINED RAINBOW TROUT SETS UP A REMATCH

There has been a good bit of water in trout streams this spring, keeping their flow high and sometimes discolored. They haven't been muddy, as warm-water streams can get, but a milky, glaucous color.

That can mean you need to select a fly the trout can see easily, especially hatchery-reared trout, which make up the majority of what we cast for on Virginia streams.

I am using the Prince Nymph, Olive Fullback and Zug Bug, patterns Robert Bryant has recommended at the Roanoke Orvis store.

"When the water is up, the fish aren't as selective, and for stocked trout you need something that will get their attention," Bryant says.

These conditions call for something with a bushier body, more glitter and generous wrappings of peacock herl.

Later, you will need to hone your flies to a slimmer profile, to a more exactness, but now the idea is to present attractors, Bryant says.

It is a dandy arrangement for the novice fly angler, and there appear to be large numbers of them as the sport sinks its hooks deeper and deeper into the fishing fraternity.

I am stalking a certain trout in a ripply pool that flows around the roots of a tree. The lair is small, and there are a number of rocks that comb the current. I might have passed by the spot, had I not seen a trout swirl during an earlier trip.

I have a new fly rod, trying it for the first time, a scant 2 1/2 ounces, designed for a 3-weight line. It is lighter than anything I've ever fished. On the 6X tippet is an Olive Fullback.

The first dozen casts bring no response, and I'm beginning to wonder if the trout is gone, then there is a pulsating strike. The small pool suddenly is alive with motion and color, as the trout runs in circles and figure-eights. He is like a heavyweight boxer using every inch of the ring against an opponent who is fighting flat-footed.

I can feel the weight of the fish, its power, its determination - maybe, its anger or fear. I can see its round head and its eyes when it swishes into the shallows, and its olive back, its silver-and-pink sides when it rolls to the surface.

I hold tight, because I have the feeling the trout is about to make a dash straight downstream to find safety in the depths. But you don't do much "horsing" with a 2 1/2-ounce rod. You hang on for the ride and try not to get giggly.

My line and leader, tight as a bow string, suddenly spring forward, and become weightless. Either the trout has thrown the hook or the fly has broken off in its jaws. I'm not certain which, because the leader has shot high into the tree branches and wrapped there.

I gather my hookless line and head upstream to the next pool. The trout has won, and I am happy for it, and not sad for myself, because I would have released it anyway. It let me feel its power and wildness long enough to leave a daylong afterglow.

I would be back for a rematch.

by CNB