The trout have been somewhat active and there rises up and downstream from where I entered the water. We are told, thru what we have read and the old timers, that trout are skiddish, easily frightened creatures and that we must use stealth tactics when pursuing them in their environs. This advice, while practical, is difficult to take to heart when I am wading through a steam rather noisily and yet there are trout rising and on the feed less than 3 feet away from where I am standing .... It is if they are oblivious to my presence completely and it makes me chuckle at the aforemetioned prevailing wisdom.
It has been a good day of fishing and I am joined today by my friend Jeff who will be staying with us the remainder of the weekend. Fishing in solitude has it's rewards even so, fishing with a dear friend has it's equal rewards. We spent an hour or so chatting and enjoyin each others company on the rivers bank under the cedars puffing on cigars and sipping some Irish Mist from a flask. Jeff then decided to walk upstream about 300 yards from my location which left a large buffer between us. The river does a couple of bends and I am unable to see him so I am, once again for the most part, alone.
There is allot of structure where I am that provides a great variety of places for trout to hide, Submerged rocks and logs, overhanging branches, logjams and other woody debris, all areas of interest. The trout that I can see rising and on the feed are out in the middle of the river! These are mostly little "dinks" in the 6 to 8 inch range for size. They are inexperienced young trout who really do not know any better and are easy prey who rise to our flies the voracious eaters that they are! They are animated and comical but are very beautiful to look at and admire in spite of their small size.
I haven't kept count of the number of fish I have landed or lost as the day has progressed. Keeping count only really comes in handy if one wishes to boast or do oneupmanship with his peers. Firsthand accounts, when it comes to fishing, are fun to tell but in some regards pointless for we all know to well the stories of "the one that got away" or "I once caught a fish that was THIS big!" Stories like that almost demand photographic proof which is why I always carry a small digital camera with me on the stream to record significant evidence!
I have been wading downstream from my starting location. Now across the stream from me is a nice sized jam of woody debris and trees. It is lodged against the bank and juts out into the river a good distance with one large cedar log arching up out of the water as a sweeper. I wave my rod, load up my line and cast out my fly. It bounces off one of the logs and lands in the water. Caught in the current it starts its down stream drift floating silently across the surface, the perfect cast when .... Nothing happens, no rise were I had seen a fish rise before. Rod tip up, reload the rod and try again. Again the fly bounces off the log and lands in the seam closer to the logs than before and once again begins it's decent. It just rounded the tip of the sweep when it is taken by a previously unseen trout. I set the hook and the rod has come alive in my hand!
The fish dives and the rods develops a nice bend and I raise the tip to keep my catch under control. Finding no relief from his dive he swims quickly upstream. I am amazed at the power of a fish in how quickly and deftly it moves through the water! It has taken a little line and I see a brief flash of it just under the surface when it quickly does an about face and is swimming towards me, downstream, at alarming speed. I moved quickly to react to his counter measure turn stripping in my line by hand when he darts under the logjam! The line briefly tenses up and then goes slack and he has set himself free! An event like this sets off ones imagination with visions of monster trout and makes for excellent story telling around a fire. I cannot adequately express my excitement of the event, the heart pounding action or the great disappointment of the loss, but who am I to complain and why should I when I look at the success of the day in the whole. It is time to reel up and exit the stream.
I only had to wait for Jeff for a wee bit before I saw him too come up the path form his exit of the river. We drove back to camp and are now well fed. The river takes allot out of a person but we are comfortably tired and extremely satisfied with ourselves and our day. Drinks have been poured and just as they flow so do the stories from each individual. The stories are told where they should be around the warmth and glow of campfire coals and some day they will be recalled like an ancient myth or legend. There is noting like this in the world, as far as were concerned anyway, as we sit outdoors telling out tales of the "one that got away" and the ones that did not. We all listen intently to each other for a well guarded secret to be revealed ... But that too may be a spoof to throw us off the mark but would brothers do that to one another would they? You bet they would! We laugh and joke and contemplate, we revel in it all. We have the heavens for a roof and the entire world at our fingertips. We are living large, feeling very much at home and alive for when we are Up North fishing, while we are still mere mortals on this earth, up here we are Kings!
Categories: Fly-Fishing
