Sometimes the events of a fishing trip need time to settle
or be digested. I need time to take in all that was witnessed. During the trip,
I am so focused that my short term memory goes into hibernation and my long term
memory is used as backup where the details will be visited later. The short days
of winter seem to speed up time and before I know it, the setting sun is there
to remind me that I must go home.
Today was one of those days winter days where you work to find
fish. It is the period of the year in which I hope for more fish, but I am happy to catch a few. I have the child like anticipation of the spring hatches
that still seem so far away coupled with the excitement of curing the cabin
fever that makes me mope around my house. It is a different time of the year
to fish; a time where even the landscape seems lonely.
The day started with two tactics: I would “chuck and duck” a
large streamer on sinking line and Mike would go low and slow with a nymph. The
water was beautiful with quite a bit of current. I quickly remembered why I do
not enjoy casting sinking line in tight quarters. It was not pretty, nor was it
all that productive. I was able to raise
one good fish, but I was not able to get a good hook set and my dreams of
raising a leviathan from the depths had quickly died.
After a change of fly rods, Mike and I searched for slower
waters and some familiar fish. We discussed the hatches of the spring. We hoped
to find a few fish sipping on the many midges that were out and about. We spoke
of hendricksons, sulphers and march browns. We whined about the cold water that
had found the holes in our waders. We planned a few road trips to fishy
destinations. It was a productive ride.
We were soon at destination and searching for fish. I had
shed the cumbersome sinking line for my much lighter and delicate three weight while Mike continued to cast his small rod. We filmed and worked the familiar spots searching for a willing trout. It took
too long to find them, but we managed enough to satisfy ourselves until the
next trip. It was a good day that ended much too early. It was a day that included a mink, a giant
owl, a groundhog, a few small browns, and the fellowship fine friend. It was a day
of cold fingers and wet feet. It was a day to be thankful for the trout waters
of this flatland.