Sometimes it is the things I see while fishing that make my day. Actually, as I read that sentence back, it might be something I see, hear or feel that makes a day memorable. This past Sunday provided me with something I will remember for seasons to come and probably every time I fish the same stretch of stream for the rest of my life.
Sunday was Halloween and I had permission to go fishing with strict orders to be home by 5:30. The agenda for the evening included pizza with friends and trick or treating. While my wife never said such, I knew there would be hell to pay if I was late. Guilty of sleeping in, I did not leave the house until 10:30. The temperature gauge in the Silverado read 44 degrees. When I arrived at my destination it read 39 degrees. I stepped out of the truck into cold crisp air. My breath was visible as it rose from my mouth and nose. My ensemble for the day included long johns, fleece pants, sweat pants and finally my waders. All of the layers were necessary not only because it was cold, but also because my waders have three small leaks. The extra layers would prevent the frigid water from contacting my skin. The sky was overcast. Sprinkles of rain fell as I put on my raincoat. I selected a gold blade Panther Martin with a black body and secured it to the end of my St. Croix ultra-light via a small gold snap swivel. With a small window of opportunity before me, it was time to fish.
As in the weeks past, the trout did not disappoint. The fishing has been very good ever since the salmon spawned and died off. The brown trout fought valiantly jumping out of the water in an effort to separate themselves from that which, at least for a short time, bound them. Some were successful, many were not. In the end, the day shaped up to be what I thought it would be, a beautiful late fall day spent doing something that, at times, consumes me.
The highlight of the day came while fishing a submerged log that ran down the right bank. The log started in shallow water and ended in deeper water. The force of the current had carved out a nice undercut in the bank at the end of the log. My intention was to cast my spinner into the shallow water, run it down the log, and finally into the undercut. I was absolutely positive that a trout would be holding in the undercut, smashing anything that was unfortunate enough to venture down the log, riding the current. My spinner lofted gracefully towards its predestined destination only to snag the submerged log upon entering the water. Upset that I spoiled the hole, I began walking toward the spinner. As I walked past the undercut, a two foot brown tout charged out from under the bank and made its way upstream, powering itself through the shallow water much like a salmon might while trying to reaching its spawning ground. After I watched the obscenely large trout make its way into deeper water I realized that I was staring with my mouth agape. A voice from my childhood echoed in my mind and made me laugh, “Close your mouth, you look like an idiot.” How I must have looked like an idiot, standing there like I had just seen a ghost. Trick or treat indeed.
For the record, I was home by ten after five. =) Just another day in paradise.
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