joseph k
07-03-2011, 12:41 AM
My first small stream venture in upstate N.Y. I parked the car on the side of a nondescript country road after driving around with one hand on the wheel and one clutching a DEC topo printout. Headed off up stream not knowing what lay ahead. After emerging from under a bridge I found myself in a deep narrow gorge with the stream only a few feet wide. I was used to big rivers at this point and was taken off guard by the number and eagerness of the trout that rose to a size 14 Klinkhamer for such a tiny stretch of water.
http://i1238.photobucket.com/albums/ff495/T_Barrington/canyonwalltree.jpg
I failed to set the hook on half a dozen out of sheer surprise as I made my way further up but soon relaxed into it...
http://i1238.photobucket.com/albums/ff495/T_Barrington/brookiebabynet.jpg
...and started bringing these beautiful little paintings to hand. Everything else faded away as my focus narrowed to just a few hands' breadths of space, each passing moment stretched out infinitely in time. An hour or a day may have elapsed. All of a sudden I was a ten year old kid again in the rapids behind the house I grew out of with a ten dollar spinning rod and no worries yet and no notions yet of how a fisherman is supposed to act or stand or move. Just the pure delight of standing in a river losing and finding oneself in the same endless moment.
http://i1238.photobucket.com/albums/ff495/T_Barrington/sunthroughtheleaves.jpg
After a while I realised it had been raining but little of the drops made it down through the trees overhanging the gorge.
http://i1238.photobucket.com/albums/ff495/T_Barrington/turtleandreel.jpg
I didn't see another human all day but nearly stepped on this snappy looking guy that I'd mistaken for a good foothold.
http://i1238.photobucket.com/albums/ff495/T_Barrington/bendwithwall.jpg
I hadn't a clue what time it was but kept thinking just around this next bend, and then the next. I finally turned back and did not fish much on the way down and only halfheartedly at that, fully contented with the day, my brain swirling with plans to return and my soul promising to seek out other places like this in the world.
http://i1238.photobucket.com/albums/ff495/T_Barrington/canyonwalltree.jpg
I failed to set the hook on half a dozen out of sheer surprise as I made my way further up but soon relaxed into it...
http://i1238.photobucket.com/albums/ff495/T_Barrington/brookiebabynet.jpg
...and started bringing these beautiful little paintings to hand. Everything else faded away as my focus narrowed to just a few hands' breadths of space, each passing moment stretched out infinitely in time. An hour or a day may have elapsed. All of a sudden I was a ten year old kid again in the rapids behind the house I grew out of with a ten dollar spinning rod and no worries yet and no notions yet of how a fisherman is supposed to act or stand or move. Just the pure delight of standing in a river losing and finding oneself in the same endless moment.
http://i1238.photobucket.com/albums/ff495/T_Barrington/sunthroughtheleaves.jpg
After a while I realised it had been raining but little of the drops made it down through the trees overhanging the gorge.
http://i1238.photobucket.com/albums/ff495/T_Barrington/turtleandreel.jpg
I didn't see another human all day but nearly stepped on this snappy looking guy that I'd mistaken for a good foothold.
http://i1238.photobucket.com/albums/ff495/T_Barrington/bendwithwall.jpg
I hadn't a clue what time it was but kept thinking just around this next bend, and then the next. I finally turned back and did not fish much on the way down and only halfheartedly at that, fully contented with the day, my brain swirling with plans to return and my soul promising to seek out other places like this in the world.