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OK, I admit it. I do sin from time to time. I just hope it won't be held against me too much. I have been bass fishing (OK, twice) within the past couple of weeks. After all, the water has gone down too low for me to go whitewater kayaking and I really do enjoy the rivers. So, that means that I have to switch to a canoe. However, when I get into my river canoe, my fishing tackle just naturally follows me. And there we go - - .

On my first trip a friend and I decided to do a little float on the James on a day with a prediction of zero chance of rain. On the morning of the trip, my friend called to say that he would be delayed and would be over when he could. A couple of hours later, he called to say that he would have to cancel out. Since I was already loaded up, I executed a plan B and had the wife drive up with me in her car, drop me off, leave my truck at the takeout area, and then drive home in her car. Got that?

So, I was on the river, floating, enjoying a beautiful day (well, it did seem to be clouding up a bit), watching the wildlife, and really getting off to a grand start. I rigged up my custom made (by me) eight weight fly rod, equipped with my old Orvis Presentation EXR IV reel, and the usual Sneaky Pete - black of course, and proceeded to lay out a cast (a pretty good one, for me) and immediately hooked up with a feisty little smallmouth. Ho, hum. Business as usual.

As I reeled the fish in, I realized that a flotilla (4) of one man rafts were passing me, each operated by guy with a fly rod in his hand. And, they were fishing just like I do - a popper along the bank! And, they got in front of me, two per bank. Ouch! So much for a casual float. I had competition. So, I did another plan B. I decided to skip the first mile and a half or so and ran the first set of rapids and paddled downstream approximately another half mile.

Then, I confidently started to work what has traditionally been my most productive stretch. First cast - nothing. Next twenty or so casts - nothing. Hmmm. What was going on here? Was I being punished? While I was trying to figure that out, I was distracted a bit by sounds of thunder and a sprinkling of rain. Where did that come from? After all, this was a "zero chance" of rain day. But, the rain didn't last long and the storm went around me, so I returned my attention to my fishing. After quite a few more unproductive casts, my attention was again directed toward sounds of thunder. This time, it was much closer and seemed to be coming my way. Was I going to be caught in another James River storm? As it turned out, the storm passed by again, but I was drenched by a heavy shower. So, back to fishing.

A short time later, I was distracted again by two things - more thunder and the rafters passing by. They went by me a semi-respectable distance and fanned out on the banks again. This was not one of my better days. I was soaking wet, had caught very few fish, my prospects of finding a fishing spot were diminishing, and the thunder was rolling. Surely I was being punished by the trout gods. Within minutes, wind and rain hit, lightning flashed, and thunder rolled. Curse you, Jamie Singleton, and your Viper Radar too! You're all part of the plot! What connection do you have with the trout gods? I was just going to do a little bass fishing. So here I was, in a howling storm on a "zero chance" day! I really needed to get out of that river - quickly. It was becoming a bit too "electric" for me.

But, just as quickly as the storm hit, it went away. The sun came out and my prospects of drying out sometime improved. Then, as I was bailing out my canoe, I noticed that the rafters were rowing downstream. It was apparent that they had had enough. Now I had the river to myself! Was the day looking up? Was my punishment over? Well, I still hadn't caught a decent fish.

That little problem was corrected within just a few minutes, when I tied on to a larger smallmouth. After a lengthy battle, he smiled for me and stretched on the tape at a little over 18 inches - all muscle. Nice fish. Then the next hour or so was the hottest smallmouth fishing I have had in several years. I could do no wrong. My sloppy casting meant nothing. I landed fish after fish, and they were all scrappy. One of those was also over 18 inches, one was 21 1/2 inches, and several others were over the slot limit minimum of 14 inches. Whoopee on a fly rod! I think I had been forgiven.

So, a really bad day turned into a good day. Hopefully I really have been forgiven for my transgression.

Yep, Sneaky Pete, black, available at Orvis. I'm not trying to lead any of you astray. I'm just making a full confession.

Dick Vipperman