Where: The beach
When: Saturday
Conditions: Fairly breezy, chilly
Flies used: Clousers, Shock & Awe
Species pursued: Resident coho

Song of the day: "E-Pro," Beck

"Try this. I tied it yesterday."

I had stopped by the shop to pick up a few things before heading out.

While there, Anil proffered the fly in his hand.

Featuring an impressive blend of craft fur, hackle and angel hair, I immediately recognized it as something fishy.

You might recognize it as the Shock & Awe.

Figuring it could only help my chances, I took it, agreeing to use it as the inaugural fly on my virgin setup.

"You haven't fished it yet?"

"Nope. Today's the day."

For the past three seasons, my trusty 5 weight Scott S3S has been the weapon of choice for my beach fishing adventures.

Over that time, a variety of things have changed, from rod design to lines and even the way I cast.

These developments finally compelled me to select an updated outfit.

In lieu of a stiffer, punchy rod, I wanted a light, fast-recovering one. Having reviewed my options earlier in the week, the choice was apparent: the G. Loomis Max Line Speed 5 weight exemplified my criteria. At least, it did so at the shop--one can never truly tell what a rod is like until it's fished. :)

Standing on the shore an hour later, I tied Anil's fly on and began working out some line. A few test casts revealed the rod's ability to handle a shooting line with ease.

Forty yards to my right, a coho breached.

Turning toward the rise, a decent breeze pressed against my face.

The trial had begun.

"Time to see what this baby can do," I thought, initiating a double haul.

The line sliced through the wind, delivering the fly surprisingly close to my target.

Strip, strip.

The line hesitated.

Strip, strip.

Hesitation again, then a familiar resistance.

This evaluation is off to a good start!

With the christening out of the way, it was time to get down and dirty. More coho appeared and suddenly I had my pick of rises to shoot to.

Seeing as how this was a Max GLX, I picked the farthest one out, about 70 feet.

Once more, the tube fly zinged through the air, doing so with noticeably less effort than previously required with the S3S.

"Me likey," I thought, grinning.

I let the fly swing with the current before beginning my retrieve.

Only this guy didn't give me any time to do that. :)

Anticipating hit and run behavior, I released this one quickly and went back to work.

And managed to wrangle another one.

When all was said and done, I had managed to pull more than half a dozen fish from the school before they disappeared.

This was proving to be a good day, especially because it was the last day to target salmon in the area. Even better, the entire beach was mine for the moment.

Given the cohos' nomadic habits of late, I decided to break from the regular pattern of working methodically down the beach. Instead, I opted to wander up and down the beach and cast to anything that showed.

After tying on a clouser, I observed a few jumpers downtide and trudged over to say hello.

And found more than a few of them responsive.

Unsurprisingly, this pack chose not to stick around and we parted ways.

It was time for a break.

Sitting on a log, I switched out my clouser in favor of a Shock & Awe I had tied the night before. Just in time, too, as a new group of fish materialized in front of me.

"Here we go again."

As the fly turned over, a boil erupted right under it.

Immediately after landing, I started retrieving, hoping to catch the silver's attention.

Another receptive fish.

A few more minutes and just as many fish later, I was back on the log, enjoying the sun.

Looking up current, I spied Mike and Chris, working a few jumpers of their own.

Opting to give them some space, I remained on the deadfall, happily munching away on my lunch.

With a fuller belly and a day of satisfaction already under my belt, I walked over to greet them and resume fishing.

In hindsight, I should have stayed out of the water. It would've prevented the schooling I was about to receive.

Chris found a very aggressive pod of fish at the bottom of the exchange.

Within reach, I cast toward the same group, only to watch helplessly as this unfolded:

One! One fish! Agh agh agh!

Two! Two fish! Agh agh agh!

Soon after the second, with her fly dangling in the water, Chris caught her third fish.

And then just like that, things went dead.

I could take a hint.

Reeling in my line, I retreated from the water, thankful to get one more go-around in before hanging it up for coho until March.

With silvers out of the way for the MAX, my thoughts wandered to the next logical fish of choice.

Time to dig out the chum babies!