Thursday, January 13, 2011

Flying Trout!!

Fish eating damsel's flying through the air!
  
(Hard to photograph!)

 





Saturday, January 8, 2011

Spot the Trout!

Finally. A day that you see in the movies, and one you envision sitting back huddled in your little office waiting for 4 o'clock to come around so you can leave to head home.

I had clear skies, little wind and some willing fish. It seemed like everywhere I looked I saw a fish, and all nice.

One fish was sitting in 6 inches of water tucked in behind a rock. If it slid back four inches out of it's lie it's back started to breach the surface. I watched it for a while, not even attempting to make a cast, as it was pretty incredible to see a ~6lb trout sitting in such water. Eventually I slid into position; a grass clump 25 feet directly below him. I sat there on my knees and made at least 10 fly changes. In the end it decided it wanted to eat a little green beetle.


Being that it was in such skinny water, it didn't even have to move. All it did was slightly move it's nose up and suck my fly. I set the hook. The fish turns it's head, catches the current and heads downstream. I scramble to get off my knees, and the fish pops off. I was grinning ear to ear.

The next fish I worked for about an hour, and I finally had to give up on it as I couldn't get it to eat anything I had.

The very next run, I see a big fish sitting on the downstream side of a undercut bank. It moves and eats something off the surface. Perfect.

2 casts later I get the fly over it's head and it eats. One big jump and it's gone upstream. I'm almost into my backing in 30 seconds as it heads up the run.
Shit.
I finally catch up to the fish and get him under control…or so I thought. I go to slide the net under him and he decides he want's to fight some more. Back we go 50 yards downstream to where I hooked him.
I go to try and net him again. No luck. Off he goes downstream through the next riffle right to where I was working the last fish for an hour. Finally he decides he's done, and I can get him to the net.

Weighed in just slightly over 7 lbs. I let out a few fuck yeahs and did the odd fist pump.



When is Enough?

Is it the next bend on the river?
Is it the next fish you see or hook, even land?
Is it when you go to take a picture of the starting point of you long hike in to unknown waters and you roll your ankle so bad you are almost in tears?


Is it enough when you've been pounded in the face with 110kph winds for 7 hours straight?
How about when you finally see your 1st fish of the day and you go to make a cast and you get such a bad tangle in your line that it takes you 20 minutes to re tie and the fish is long since left?







It's enough when you've hiked in some of the most beautiful countryside you have ever seen. When you look down to watch where you put your next step and you only see a faint sheep trail and you think to yourself, "Am I the 1st person to walk this in the last century?"




Sure, I didn't catch a lot of fish (1 stinky rainbow) or even see too many (5), but it was an incredible day. The views that I saw and the solitude I had far outweighed and sort of fishing that could have happened that day.