Is Anybody Fishing?
I'm going quietly nuts here wanting to wade and cast and feel the pull of the stream on my non-cleated waders.
Is anyone fishing? Is anyone seeing fish?
I live a short fifteen miles from the most wonderful steelhead river, the Yachats. It's ideal, as far as I'm concerned, as it is not augmented by hatchery fish, only streambred fish need apply. Streambred fish must be released.
Consequently, I'm one of the very few who fishes this lovely little river.
I've fished this stream for the last several years and have yet to hook a fish or even see one. I'm told I'm a week early or a week late.
Today was my day to fish it for the first time. But. Obligations reared their ugly Hydra heads and I was precluded from my typical practice of ripping limbs off over-hanging spruces with high-kicking ends to my inept Spey casts.
Maybe next week. Winter steelheading, in rain-forest solitude, is an experience to be remembered and treasured. I know, geezer that I am, I have few seasons left to stand fixed on diatom-slickened stones, stones ready to slip in a moment of uneven pressure, and pump the fly out behind the white rock, into the eddy that will, when the current finds it, swing the fly in front of the fish-holding boulders below.
Waiting for the pull. Or just the pluck that announces a fish is there and interested and will maybe take on the next cast.
Or, more probably, not. But...
Today was a perfect day.
Misty rain. Slightly rising river. Late February, peak of the "native" run.
Wasted it on building web-sites.
Carpe diem, I guess.
Except that I don't fish for carp.
Except that they don't live around here.
Join the Palindromes for Dyslexics Society Today