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The alarm was set for 5:00 AM. The fishing gear had been loaded in the trusty little wagon the night before. Sleep was a scarce commodity as I whiled away the night time hours waiting. Spinney Mountain Reservoir had been my nemesis in years past offering up more near death experiences than fish. Today would be different.
I pulled up in front of Blubaughs' house at 5:46 AM. As usual, he was already packed and waiting patiently. My stop for coffee and the subsequent pouring of it down the front of my shirt while consuming a breakfast bar and banana on the fly along C-470 had slowed me down a bit. The trust old '90 Land Cruiser had been checked for oil though the speedometer cable still chirped as we hauled up the hill along Highway 285 heading for South Park. Gary fishes out of a pontoon boat with all of the bells and whistles....fish finder, forty six pound electric motor attended by a fifty pound marine battery, oars, flippers, rod holder, whoopee cushion for the hard plastic seat, 'you measure 'em' long handled boat net, state of the art component fishing pack/vest, flats hats, day glow PFD, anchor, pirate flag, and tow rope. The tow rope proved to be a godsend! This rig necessitates the pulling of a collectible second hand 1964 Sears utility trailer which has been personally customized to accommodate the high tech fishing contraption. Oh, there was a small problem with wiring and brake lights; but nothing that would slow down the expedition.
My own gear though less technical was nonetheless carefully researched and accumulated just for this excursion. The Outcast Fishcat float tube was several season old but still served as a utilitarian 'belly boat' for the budget minded. Since I have a birthday again this year, I gifted myself with a new Orvis ten foot seven weight T3 rod and large arbor reel. The reel was loaded with a Rio floating shooting head backed with ultra slick running line. Two more shooting heads were ensconced in the convenient pouch designed by Rio and sold to be by Feather Craft for only $19.95. If the floating head didn't do the trick, the slow sinking clear head or black fast sinking head would surely seek the right depth to entice the finny denizens of the reservoir. The object of this self gift was to gain more distance in the cast in the face of averse weather conditions. Perhaps there was a bit of wanting not to fall short when standing next to my fishing buddies as well.
Of course, with a new fishing season upon us; a new fishing hat is absolutely necessary for the styling fisherperson who hopes to keep up with the other sports on the water. My new hat was a very lucky acquisition from Sierra Trading Post at a 70% reduction. It is an Ex-Officio Bug Off bonnet with a wrap around sun shield which buttons securely under one's chin. I have seen women wear such head gear in the tropics. Nonetheless, sun and bug protection at such a bargain price was simply too fine a deal on which to pass!
The most important item in my gear was the fly selection. Reports had it that the calibaetis hatch was on. During the previous year's foray, damsel fly nymphs had been all the rage. I was torn by an ambivalence that precipitated a trip to Charlie's Fly Box in Old Towne Arvada. Charlie was pleased to see me. After only spending $120, I came away not only with the Charlie's surefire versions of the calibaetis nymphs and adults, plus damsel fly nymphs in several sizes; I also acquired a fine Fish-Pond reel case for which I was not shopping but couldn't pass up. Now my collection of old and abused reels can be hidden in a state-of-the-art zippered satchel instead of the battered old plastic bucket that has held them for forty years. There are reasons Charlie is pleased to see me! One never adds up the cost of the equipment and materials necessary for such safaris into the world of fly fishing. Nor does one ever leave receipts for such purchases where they may be found by the family accountant! Suffice it to say, most dedicated fly fishing folk understand the necessity of such research and acquisition for the good of the sport.
We were late! The parking lot was full at the reservoir. Selfish guys had parked so that they had plenty of room to drag out their gear and rig up, but no room was left for the guys who came after. Taking charge, I located a space that looked a little tight. Having full confidence in my partner's ability to back his trailer into the niche; we proceeded to attempt to wedge the fragile little trailer into it. For some reason, the young man busily rigging his expensive Sage rods leaning against his brand new shiny red honking humongous Yukon SS assumed a rigid upright stance with narrowed eyes focused upon the rusty Sears trailer aimed at his vehicle. With absolutely no enticement from us, he voluntarily relocated his rig allowing us more than adequate space for Gary's collectible conveyance. What a nice young man! He was speaking because I saw his lips moving but neither of us with our hearing loss could quite make out what he was saying. We thanked him kindly while he simply looked at us with those narrow eyes. Perhaps he suffered from astigmatism.
Donning our fishing duds, we looked quite the pair. If I must say so myself; we compared quite favorably with all of the other sports in their new summer outfits! Launching the boats provided a brief moment of anxiety when the wheels on Gary's pontoon boat collapsed under weight of all of the accessories. This necessitated the carrying of the rig piece by piece to the water line. As for myself, I may have tweaked an old back injury while contorting my legs into a position to affix the Force fins to my feet while sitting in the belly boat in shallow water. Such occurrences are simply part of the experience and should never deter the serious fly fisherman from their pursuit of the big fish. Kicking out into the clear waters of Spinney Mountain Reservoir, I found myself exhilarated with the possibilities of the day. I just knew that today would be the day for that fish of legend.
Shortly after heaving off; the first shrike bent my new rod. A large rainbow went airborne sixty feet out. I set the hook with malice! Getting the line onto the reel, I noticed a dearth on tension. Oh, no! The fish which I am now certain would have exceeded two feet was gone. Upon further examination, the new Denny Ricard's still water nymph and Charlie Craven's special jointed damsel fly nymph plus three feet of my brand new Umpqua 'shock absorber' 5X leader were also gone. Re-rigging, I tied on another still water and damsel
nymph with new 5X tippet material. Rounding a point fifteen minutes later, another large fish stripped me of two more carefully selected flies and more tippet without ever showing its face. This scenario was repeated two more times. One of these piscatorial brats had the audacity to charge my belly boat, swim directly between my finned feet thereby impaling the top fly in my fin strap before swimming off with another bead head Cravens calibaetis nymph. What nerve! My selection of new flies purchased for especially for the excursion was being systematically stolen from me by cruising behemoths which I now believe may have been new fly rod records on 5X tippets!
Checking in with my partner in his fishing yacht: I discovered he, too, had been stripped.
I became aware of guttural sounds coming from across the surface of the austere south park reservoir. They seemed to be originating from the flotilla of belly boats, pontoon boats, kayaks, canoes and sonar equipped bass boats that dotted the lake's surface from shore to shore. Good grief! These were not testosterone laden grunts of predator pride. These were low moans of missed opportunity and lost gear. Countless hours of tier's work and miles of fluorocarbon tippet material were being 'pirated' by the marauding rainbows of Spinney. Roving bands of fishy pirates were hiding in the innocent looking aquatic weeds and methodically stripping the ranting fisherpeople of their precious flies and confidence. I was determined to gain an upper hand on this situation! Tying on 3X tippet material, carefully clinch knotting on my last calibaetis and damsel fly nymphs, meticulously Zap-a-Gapping the knots: I loaded the ten foot graphite rod with the shooting head and launched a sixty foot cast into the maw of the heartless pack and waited with tense muscles and tight jaw for the slashing attempt to steal my booty.
When it came, I was ready. The set was assuaged by the gum rubber shock 'bumper' or else I might have broken the heavy tippet. The bright rainbow robber was well hooked. Bringing it to hand, I could not but help giggling out loud. I found myself talking to the fish as it writhed in my hand. "There you rascal", I said. I forced the beast to walk the plank across my casting apron for the release. However, he was but a small sixteen inch lackey not the crew leader I sought.
Before, we noticed a storm front appeared over the lake. A stiff breeze began to blow pushing us further from the parking lot. Gary sprang into action. Reving up his 'ski boat' super powered electric motor, he came to my rescue as I battled the waves in my little kick boat. Tying me to his craft and looking all the world like Capn' Ahab, he turned on the juice as we headed into the white caps rolling across the pond. Both of us were drenched by the ride to the beach. As we drove away, I swore to return to the lurking plunderers of Spinney. I have made a it personal quest to reclaim my lost treasures hanging off their lips. If you decide to go, beware.....here be pirates.

Charlie Horn
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Hmmm..-Capn' Ahab says

Actually, my present pontoon boat is a replacement for the 10' pontoon boat, which I had to return to Cabela's. The was no room for it in my 1 car garage with my car and power tools. Actually, the lights on my vintage 4' X 6' utility trailer were brand spanking new and not the original bulbs thank you. Actually, my brake lights and turn signals worked fine thank you. I had no taillights, but what the heck it was light enough to drive without lights. Actually, my odometer cable is just peachy. What Charlie heard were the hungry squirrels held captive in the squirrel cage that has replaced the original motor. Gadgets? Charlie brought along walkie-talkies. When the recently purchased Cabela's wheel collapsed under my pontoon boat due to the weight of a 50 lb battery, Charlie was quick to use the walkie-talkie. "You need some help there good buddy?" Once I was able to get in the water and start wetting my line I looked around for Charlie. I spotted his boat, but a rather lanky bearded woman wearing an Ex-Officio Bug Off bonnet occupied it. I got on the walkie-talkie and asked Charlie where the #$@ he was fishing. His reply was " Right behind you!" With the Ex-Officio Bug Off bonnet on Charlie was the lanky bearded woman I had observed earlier. As for the pricey flies Charlie bought at Charley's Flybox, I was bestowed 3 of the cherished flies while I was gearing up by the trailer. I do not have the courage to tell Charlie that I left them right their on the decking of my trailer forgetting to take them with me.

I did bear witness to the hooked kamikaze lunker that charged Charlie's float tube. I had to turn my boat away so Charlie could not see and hear me laughing. I would have probably hooked up with more of the Spinney Pirates like Charlie, but those flies were back resting on the decking of my trailer in the parking lot.

I would have to say I caught the biggest fish. On my tow line I had a record setting catch, a rather lanky bearded woman wearing a Ex-Officio Bug Off bonnet. Oh, those pricey flies that Charlie bestowed on me? They had blown off in the decking of my vintage 64 utility trailer while I was towing the rather lanky bearded woman wearing a Ex-Officio Bug Off bonnet.

-Capn' Ahab