I got out fishing last Saturday. Despite the recent snows, the weather has been quite nice and it seemed like the perfect time to rip big streamers for big brown trout. With the emphasis on big, I promptly tied on a small parachute mayfly that required binoculars to see once it hit the water and caught two smallish fish. On the other hand, my fishing partner for the day, Russ, managed to stick with the original plan of going big and was rewarded with a gorgeous fish. Yup, I am in fact a sucker for dry flies...
As it turns out, I wasn't the only one to go fishing this past weekend. The Brother of the Blog got out on one of his nearby rivers and, although he has no photographic evidence, claims to have caught a coho with his fly rod. My normal skepticism with this sort of thing was brushed aside quickly once I recalled that Josh could be the luckiest angler in the world. He accomplishes things with a fly rod through sheer happenstance that I could only do with a lifetime of practice and persistence like the world has never seen. Regardless, those coastal Oregon streams sure are epic...
1 comment:
Oh, I do believe you meant to say I catch my fish through a pure understanding and proficiency of all that is fly fishing… Hum yea I could not even keep a straight face when typing that last line! This term I have been lucky enough to devote myself to the search of the elusive and powerful coho. By the way I do have an eyewitness that can corroborate my first coho in the lower 48, so there! I must admit however, after 4 trips on the water I have lost something like 25 flies and must restock my arsenal before the next trip, which I hope to make this weekend.
With all of this talk of fishing and seasons changing (which is in full swing), I will admit I am watching last years ski flick and hoping it will allow for a graceful transition between the flexible rod sampling of fall, and trying to convince myself people really can fly… even if it is for a few seconds following the hucking of a cliff.
On a side note, after many concerned friends were worried for my health when they saw me wearing my, shall we say well used hat; I decided to give it a bath. I am not big on washing things like hats, however after a recent fishing trip I realized the hat was waterproof, and the water that did bead off was an off yellow color. This pretty much made up my mind and after a couple of days of soaking in what can now only be call a primordial soup, I think whatever was living within my hat is now gone and it is ready for use once again.
Until next time, tight lines and think snow…
Josh
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