: Fly Fishing Short Essays/Stories
11-15-2002, 03:20 PM
Was wondering if any one would be interested in a series of monthly fly fishing essays in which you describe one of your favorite fishing locations, fish, or methods, to keep us going over the winter months.
It should be about one of your own fishing experiences in your words describing for the rest of us the location, species, environment, methods, challenges. events, etc of this fishing particular personal fishing experience of yours.
This way we all get further insights into your personal fly fishing experience.
Maybe we could have one a month over the winter months this way in addition to tying you can test your literary short essay skills also and we can find your typos (kidding).
Any body interested ?
11-15-2002, 07:41 PM
PM - I'll submit one, of course I was gonna write one for the New England Saltwater Fly Rodders publication anyway (proudly & shamelessly plugged).
So to answer the original Q: Yes, I'd enjoy that kind of thing.
11-15-2002, 11:19 PM
Great idea, count me in!
I love it! Count me in.
Perhaps I could do some accompanying illustrations and we could have it printed and bound into a journal for our book collections.
This has been talked about before, great idea!
11-16-2002, 03:56 PM
Great idea snd good for the Forum...I am in.
11-16-2002, 11:22 PM
I was still upset. The boss could have used a little tact in dealing with my situation after lunch. When 3:30 rolled around, I was first in line to collect my check, and snatched it angryly from the supers hand. I had only one thing on my mind.
When I got home, I threw the signed document on the kitchen counter. My 14 year old son passed me on the way to the garage. "Hi dad, how ya doin"? he asked. "Tell your mother Ive gone fishin" I said in a huff, "Ill be back later" and the door closed behind me.
It took me about 2 seconds to gather my equipment and throw it in the back of the truck. I grabbed a few strawberries out of the garden next to the driveway, and I was gone.
It's a 25 mile drive to the river, so I poped in a Pat Methany cd, and droped on the County Hwy. that went around town. I felt my bloodpreasure droping as I rolled down the window. The August air was warm and sweet as tree shadows slanted in the late afternoon sun.
When I reached the turn-off for the river road, I was smilin. But as I started to wind up the valley, I came across 2 trucks. They had tents and a fire goin, and as I drove by I could see a few were already in the festive mood of the weekend, excersising there right arms. "Great, crowds" I mumbled under my breath.
My journey took me further up stream. I remembered an old abandoned railroad trestle that I had passed before. It was on a stretch of road high above the water, with little if any place to pull off, and questionable access.
I reached a spot about a half mile away and parked my pick-up. From here you could look up the canyon to the bridge, so I broke out my binoculars and focused in. There apeared to be 3 or 4 pools, a couple of spillways, and at least 1 riffley section. The water was somewhat obscured by trees, and I could not read the surface well enough to tell if there was even the faintest rise. "Hmmm..." I said as I droped the lenses. The scent of the woods was pungent. Light puffs of warm, then cool air moved around me liked disturbed souls. I could hear the moving water below me as it echoed off the canyon walls.
I raised the binoculars for one more look just in time to see a Belted Kingfisher drop like a stone from the branch of an old snag into the second pool, and a moment later, re-apeared with a beak full. "Fish" I said to myself
Flying that last half mile, I squeezed myself off the side of the road, threw on my waders, and found my way down a somewhat overgrown deer track that gave me the access that I needed, and at one point, going on my butt for about 20 feet, brusing my pride.
As I walked out on the rocks, the evening took on a magic quality. I had forgotten about my boss and all the B.S. of the afternoon. I pulled some line off the reel, and heard that clicking sound, and a few casts later, I was there, lost amidsts the swirll of black water, grey rocks, and blue-pink twilight.
It is, after all, as Walton said hundreds of years ago," Water, the eldest daughter of creation, the element on which the Spirit of God did first move" that provides us the fish, so we all might be "Brothers of the Angle"
And I remain one,
11-18-2002, 08:32 PM
Good story, felt like I was there. I have had similar types of events stressful events at work, just a couple of weeks ago, said to myself , I need to get away took a friday off and headed to Michigan for steelhead and salmon fly fishing. I felt a lot more relaxed after that one day of fly fishing alone, the fishing was not that good but it was enough to relax me upon my return.
Do we need some guidelines for these ? Perhaps just leave it up to each person to describe a fly fishing experience of theirs they are want to share with other members. Such as:
- A salmon fishing trip
- A day at my favorite fly fishing location
- Best day fly fishing, funniest day, worst day, etc..
Provide a brief title
Must be non fiction based on your personal experience
Must be short perhaps 200-300 words or less.
Pictures can be attached if available.
We can start with these and decide if more guidelines are needed.
Go for it and have fun !
Don't worry we are not going to critique the writings or spellings etc..
I will try and get something up by Thanksgiving weekend.
11-19-2002, 01:29 AM
Thanks for the nod my friend!
Next.(now don't shove, everyone will get there turn.)
Great job Deerhaawk, I enjoyed the read thoroughly! It's a keeper.
11-19-2002, 10:29 AM
I think I will start with my boy hood fly fishing trips and work up to the present. This way I will not be giving out any current secret techniques or locations for a while. :D
Look forward to the extra winter reading.
Can't wait to hear Mr. F. Evans boy hood fly fishing memories.:devil:
11-19-2002, 02:46 PM
This was wrote more for my and my wife's healing than anything else.
Sept. 30, 2000 my wife and I were preparing for bed when we received the phone call that every parent dreads. We were being asked to come to Harbor View Medical Center in Seattle, WA to help identify a young woman believed to be our daughter. The voiced told us she had been air lifted by helicopter from an automobile accident in Skagit County near our home. They continued to say she had been identified as Ember, our daughter but, the hospital needed confirmation and to please come as soon as possible. They would not give us any further information other than to say she was alive. The 90 mile car ride to Seattle was silent as my wife and I could only hope for the best.
We found our way to the emergency center and informed the staff who we were. We were immediately ushered into the treatment area where the injured young lady was. I will not recount the images that confronted us here. Suffice to say to this day recalling this evening brings tears to my eyes and a huge lump to my throat. The girl on the gurney was our daughter and we identified her as such.
For the next week we took up residence in the Intensive Care Unit waiting room. This week was a blur of emotions, visiting family members, doctors, nurses and unqualified decision making. You will never be prepared for this type of situation and all the questions that need answers. To make things easier on us and the hospital staff we rented a room near the hospital. After the second week of ICU it was becoming clear that our daughter would survive her accident.
I will not go into to much detail on Emberís injuries. I do need to tell you a little about them to get to the point where this is a fishing story and to some extent describe her stay in the hospital. Ember had broken her jaw, her left arm and her left leg. All three of these injuries would require constructive surgeries and her leg took several surgeries. She has pins, plates and screws in all three and all three would require lots of rehabilitation work. The worst of her injuries however, was Ember had suffered a closed head injury which included what is called a shear injury to her brain. People with this type of brain injury usually suffer the effects for the rest of their lives and these effects can range from barely noticeable to severe. It turns out Emberís brain injuries fall somewhere in the middle. She has problems with short term memory loss (which is common with traumatic brain injury) and could be describe as child like in her mental capacity. All said and done Ember was in ICU for 31 days. She was in a coma for approximately 45 days and spent 3 months in 3 different hospitals. One more thing. She celebrated her 20th birthday while in a coma in the ICU.
Most of you that visit FAOL know me a little from my posts and fishing reports You have probably concluded I enjoy steelhead fishing but, will go out in a tube or a pontoon boat fishing for trout in the spring. Every time I headed out to fish Ember would ask to come along. I would have to tell her that she wasnít well enough to go fishing. She would humbly say ok and ask if we could go sometime later. ďOf courseĒ I would say. After talking with her mother one evening, we decided that Emís arm had healed enough for her to be able to reel and she was now walking well enough with her cane that we could get her into a boat. I ask Em if she would like to go fishing on Saturday. Iím not sure but, I believe it was a Thursday. For the next few days she would remind me we were going fishing on Saturday. This is quite an accomplishment for her considering her problems with short term memory.
I tied up some flies known locally as careybuggers (a cross between a Carey Special and a wooly bugger). I was a little concerned with her ability to use a single action reel so I setup a small spinning rod with light line to help get the fly down.
Saturday came and we packed up all the necessary gear, hitched up the small aluminum boat and headed to the lake. What a great day for fishing. Temperature was a comfortable high sixties and the skies were slightly overcast with no threat of rain. We helped Ember into the boat and headed out to the lake. I tied a fly on her line, helped mom get her rod ready and setup my own. We started to slowly troll with the help of a small electric motor. Five minutes and Ember had the first fish. With gentle instruction she was able to bring in a nice 16 inch rainbow. I will never forget the joy on her face nor the joy that I felt at that moment. I have never cried a tear over catching fish before. I must admit my eyes were moist. I realized just how much I love my family.
Ember not only caught the first. She caught the most and the biggest. She wants to go fishing again just as soon as we can and honestly I canít wait to take her.
Ember is a lucky girl.
Loving parents and a little fishing sounds like the best theropy she will ever get.
Best of fishing to the three of you.
11-20-2002, 12:39 PM
Just a flat out excellent story, thanks for sharing!
Good thing I don't have to speak this reply because the lump in my throat would make it pretty tough right now. It's inspiring to hear about your day together and although the accident was so very unfortunate it's great to know that you have a lifetime of precious memories with your family in the years to come.
11-20-2002, 02:54 PM
Ember lives with her mom and I now. We have legal guardianship of her.
She is doing wonderfully and we consider her a true gift. She does suffer from some of the classic maladies of Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI). Short-term memory lose, head aches, balance problems, etc. Mostly she displays the mentality of a young adolescent and that is a poor analogy at best.
Ember loves the outdoors, camping and fishing. During the spring, I take her lake fishing for trout and in the fall, we do some cutthroat fishing in the river. She is learning to cast from a sitting position and read cutthroat water. Some of my favorite fishing trips is with my daughter.
Thanks for the replies,
More stories please..............Juro?