The Water Was Dirty, But I Feel So Clean

Monday 12/3/12

I occasionally have a few extra vacation days to use before the end of the year or I will lose them.  I try to carefully account for all my planned fishing trips.  This year has been no different.  A buddy of mine from Florida comes up every year to go steelhead fishing with Loren Williams of Fly Guy’s Guide Service.  I try my best to tag a long for at least one day with them.  I had planned to fish with them on Tuesday since the weather was still suppose to be balmy to say the least. On a last minute thought, I decided to take Monday off and go fishing on some of the Western, NY tributaries and streams. I hopped into the car Monday morning at 0530 and the car just didn’t want to turn over.  Again and again I tried, eventually I got it started.  Now for the dilemma, I got it started, but will it start again after I turn it off.  I am considered a Deadhead in some circles, but I was never one to just quit my job and follow the Grateful Dead around the country.  I am a bit more type A personality and I need to have a steady income and can’t just drop everything and hope for the best.  I deduced in my head the possible automotive pit falls possible and decided to travel to an inland stream for some year round resident trout fishing and then call the service garage when they opened to see about a diagnosis and a remedy.  I certainly didn’t want to be down a vehicle on Tuesday morning to fish with the Boyz.  I made it to the stream right a sunrise and had the place to myself.  I had already decided that I was going to swing wet flies and streams in hopes of some great grabs.  The flow was very low, but on the upside just a little off color.  I stuck to the plan and started tossing some streamer like patterns.  A quick tug happened rather quickly.  This was going to be fun.  I worked the sections quickly since the flow was really not conducive  for swinging in some areas. Again the line went tight this time the fish had some power behind it as it darted downstream and made three buttery flanked leaps before coming unbuttoned.  Curses!  After a jolt of reality I scheduled to get the vehicle in the garage later that morning, and kept fishing for another hour.  I hooked an lost another fish as time was winding down.  It was go time and I had to have something to show for my efforts.  I fished three other spots that just screamed to hold fish, but they didn’t produce.  I headed back toward the vehicle and hit one more spot.  The line tightened and I soon beached a little brown, but I was thankful for the hurried experience.  The ventured to the garage only to learn there was nothing noticeable wrong.  A self healing vehicle or a fluke.  My day didn’t quite go as planned, but some memorable times.

Tuesday 12/4/12

To the Salmon River I went to meet Gary and Loren.  The morning air temp was 48 degrees and the fellow anglers were out in force.  Doesn’t anybody work anymore?  The area had fifteen inches of snow the week before and now it was springtime balmy.  Loren’s call was to head North to a different tributary in hopes of solitude.  We had the solitude except for the part Saint Bernard dog that greeted us as we geared up.  

The stream was flowing high and off color with visibility being about a foot.  Loren set us up for swinging flies with two handed rods. Which had me grinning from ear to ear.  I’ve fished with Loren a few times before, but this was a the first time swinging spey style.  Every experience with Loren has been a learning experience that goes beyond expectation.  Knowing my spey casting is mediocre at best, this was sure to be a treat.  It wasn’t fifteen minutes into fishing and I could see my buddy hooked up briefly with a fish.  This put the energy in us that the day may just be exceptional. Instead it was an omen.  Not another tug all day.  As the air temperature rose to fifty degrees plus, we enjoyed the solitude and the experience.  Loren proved his abilities by taking time to show me some new casting strokes and improve on the ones I already knew.  It really isn’t about the catching but the beauty of what we have before us and what we make of it.  Our new found friend the Saint Bernard returned to greet us again in the parking lot and see how the fishing was.  Actually it was more to see if we would scratch his ears some more.