A Morning on The Clinch

What would possess a man to rise from his warm comfortable bed at 5:00 a.m. on a Saturday morning?  What force of nature could pull at his heart with enough endearing whispers to cause him to rise even before the sun decides to clothe the day with its light?  The answer is a fly line and a fish.

 This particular morning the destination was the frigid tail waters of The Clinch River.   Like clockwork my brother-in-law and I rose at 5:00 a.m.  Coffee was in hand, a small breakfast was had, and we were on the road by a quarter till 6:00.  We pulled into the parking area above Miller’s Island at 6:30 on the nose expecting to find an open lot and open water.  Instead we found a lot half full.  Some fishermen had already made it into the water and the ones that remained seemed to dance around as though they were about to begin a race;  grown men with one leg in waders surveying the parking lot to see which if it would come down to a photo finish to get to the best spots.  I half way expected to encounter booby traps as James and I made our way to the water. 

One of the most beautiful things about being on the Clinch this early in the morning is you are promised a cool mist.  Depending on the time of year, this can be a refreshing blessing or a windblown curse that will chill you to the soul, but there is no questioning its beauty.  We made our way to a slower stretch of water to meet some friends of mine from work.  Matt and Tim had been there for thirty minutes and had already hooked one. This gave promise to a good day but the slow moving waters prompted James and me to move around to the front side of the Island where I’d had some luck before.   The move proved to be a good choice.

We found our way back to a spot that Matt had shown me once before and after getting settled in I could start to see the fish moving through the water around me.   James and I both caught trout. Most were rainbows, browns, and I even caught a Brook trout.  We saw several sizable fish swimming in the area but I suppose they got that big for a reason as we were unable to get any to take interest in our flies.  Most of the fish we caught were in the 10” range.  We had our most productive fishing on an olive colored scud.  There was a 20 minute period when the activity reached a high and it seemed that every fisherman in the area was pulling in fish.  What a joy it is to be on the water during these times.  Nothing seems to empty my mind like a fly rod and some open water.   

The dam was scheduled to release at 10:00 and as we made our way out ahead of the rising water the fishing seemed to really pick up. At 10:45 you could see the water level rising and as it did the surface seemed to almost quake with feeding fish.  James and I couldn’t help but stop and get a few casts in.  Within minutes we both landed a fish each and decided a day like today wasn’t going to get much better so we head back to the truck.  This is the force that made us rise at 5:00 a.m. and chances are we will rise again.