My wife’s family has an annual get together at the Reno Rodeo in Reno, Nevada. They’ve been doing this ever since she was a kid. I have been tagging along ever since we met when she moved to Omaha from the bay area in California in 2004. 1500 miles (each way). Nearly 20 hours in the car. (the rest of her family is just over 3 hours away.) Well, since we made the trip last year I have become much more interested in fly fishing and started to wonder if there were any fish in the little river that ran through town. Later, with the help of the folks on the site I found out that the Truckee River is indeed home to “good” numbers of trout.
So, it was with high hopes that I made the toilsome drive west this year. We were all supposed to meet at the new Cabela’s west of Reno, near the town of Verdi before we convoyed over to the airport hilton where we would be staying. I thought that this would be a perfect chance to get a little advice and maybe any equipment that I might decide that I needed before trying my hand at trout fishing. You, the reader, must remember that suitable trout water is in somewhat short supply here in the omaha area. Thus, I have learned to be effective in catching bass, bluegill, and crappies, but have no trout experience.
We arrived at the Cabela’s at around 10 am on friday morning and I found my way to the fly shop inside. I was delighted when I was informed that the river was producing great numbers of smaller fish, even in the section that was 1/4 mile down the hill from the front door. The gentleman (I use this term somewhat loosely as he came accross with the same general persna tha tmakes used car salesmen famous)told me that the majority of the fish were being caught nymphing in the rocks using strike indicators and prince nymphs. After telling me this he proceeded to show me his favorite strike indicators. The word “bobber” seems entirely appropriate as a description of what he held in his hand. The package contained what appeared to be 4 translucent, pastel ping pong balls, each having a tab to poke the line thru. I decided that I would like something a bit more delicate as the sound of these “indicators” hitting the water might resemble a pork chop being thrown from a bridge and might scare fish. I selected a pack of smaller indicators, determined that my fly box was well enough stocked, purchased a license and hit the river for an hour. Nothing. I didn’t even see a fish.
After an hour or so I got a call that my wife’s family would be there in a couple minutes, so I picked up and left. I was planning to get up around 5 am and fish until about 10 before joining the rest of the family in the day’s planned activities. In the morning I was back at the river shortly after daybreak, throwing a size 18? EHC at likely spots because I had noticed several caddis on the water being eaten by fish. Not a big hatch, or a lot of fish, but I had planned to fish the day under the mantra “I just want one”. I figured any more than that was probably being a bit greedy my first time out. I fished slowly and carefully along probably a mile or so of river, switching to a nymph whenever I thought it was a better choice or after I thought I had beaten a section to death with the EHC. I even fished a couple of the stonefly nymphs I got from the stonefly swap after I saw acouple of stonefly shucks on rocks. No fish. I did manage to draw a few strikes on the EHC, but I am not sure that they were trout. I also saw one brown in the 18 inch range suck down a caddis right in front of me. Just one, and no more.
Eventually I was invaded by a couple of bait fishermen in army camo pants and I decided that my day was over. All in all I must admit that I accomplished about what I had expected to, that being that I got my feet wet, and a few hours of fishing in while in Reno. It made the drive home just a bit easier, and it will probably serve to ease the pain on the way out next year also. Who knows, maybe I’ll even catch a fish.
Fish