As I gave the rod a tug I realized that once again I had managed to snag the 27ft of indicator, fly, dropper fly, tippet, leader and floating line into another tree. And not even a tree alongside the river, a tree directly behind me…on dry ground…..10 feet from the water….
We had driven 5 hours to be able to fish this exclusive stretch of the McCloud at the invite of one of our vendors and to be honest, this river deserved better than I was offering. As I slapped and thrashed at the water with my line, I’m pretty sure that I heard the fish actually laughing at my attempts.
After all, this stretch of river, this Bollibokka fishing club, had seen some pretty accomplished fishermen. It was arguably one of the most famous stretches of private water in California, some would say the entire US, and here I stood once again tangled in a tree, my cursing and swearing drowned out by the sounds of this amazing river.
Amazingly enough I did manage to put the fly into the water several times. Enough times actually to fool four fish into attaching themselves to the fly at the end of my line. Granted only once was I able to bring said fish all the way to the bank where I had to release it, but still I had accomplished it. I had found four trout that had either been born with a brain defect or had hit their heads on rocks enough that even my feeble attempts were enough to fool them into attacking my fly.
The 7 miles of private river and the amazing fishery may be the primary reason people are willing to pay the required fees to gain access to this trout nirvana, but that’s only part of the story. The property itself is a sight to behold.
The clubhouse, built in the 20s with its adjoining log cabin kitchen and dining room from the 1860s is the epitome of a mountain fishing retreat with its large burl table that easily seats a dozen hungry fisherman.
Across the large expanse of lawn from the main clubhouse is the Rock House. This very cool, all rock 2 bedroom cabin sits right on top of the river with a deck and chairs where it would be easy to waste away an afternoon with a glass of scotch and a nice cigar were it not for the fish that continued to taunt me in the pools just below the porch.
Now, having fished, and I use the term loosely, this amazing river can I ever be satisfied with a spinning rod and a nightcrawler on my local creeks again? Of course I can….but the monster trout that I know live in this incredible section of river will always be on my mind as the ones that got away.
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