So, the posts are few and far between. Apologies, but I am still getting used to being here. Lots of people to see and things to do, but I am finally settling in.
I started a new batch of brew today. Within the next month, I will have another 5 gallons of Cat Skwurl IPA to sample!
I also recently discovered Skype! What a wonderful tool that is. Really makes a world of difference being able to share a little "face time" with Shauna. We chatted it up the other night while I made dinner and again tonight while I was brewing. I gotta admit, when I heard the squeak of that old screen door across the computer, I felt a strong tinge of "homesickness". But all is well on that front. Shauna just got her new violin, that she should be mastering over the next few months. Now, if I could only force myself to sit down and actually learn the guitar, we can start a travelling duo!
Had a STELLAR day down at my favorite creek the other day. Marc, ever the mastermind of manipulating me into going fishing, suggested an after work special on one of the local creeks. All week, the reports were that the water was high and that it likely wouldn't fish well....oh contraire!
As far as numbers go, maybe it wasn't your typical excursion along this particular stretch, but the quality...magnifique!
Starting out at the first little run, my thoughts were on the downswing. Perfect drift after perfect drift and not even so much as an imaginary fish! I'm thinkin' "This is NOT how I want to start this place out!" This creek has a very special place in my soul, because time after time, I never cease to be amazed at the quality of the fishing and of course, the fish's eager cooperation. Not to say that it's easy, but the fishing is rarely less that good, and to go home skunked, you've really gotta try hard to be a hopeless mess.
That's where I started out. I was getting takes and breaking off flies. It then occurs to me that instead of using 5X tippet (4lb test) I would probably fare a lot better with 3X (8.4 lb test) in these higher than normal flows. Suddenly, it's all clicking into place. I start landing fish, and it becomes a game again. I reach my point of zen in which I totally relax, my drifts become sewn to the rippling seams in the current, and the headshaking of the fish is rocking my arm. Marc and I traded off, each wise-cracking and heckling the other about the monster bassmaster sets when a rockfish takes the fly, and whatever aspect of life seems funniest at the time. In between the jokes, the circus has begun and the trout perform their acrobatics, and we laugh at their expense.
But as soon as the jumps are over, and the headshaking that is so characteristic of these wild fish subsides, each fish is adored, admired, and praised for the beauty that keeps us casting, and released somewhat wiser and completely unharmed. It truly is a grand feeling to be totally at peace and in a deep state of meditation while poised atop a bowling ball shaped rock covered in snot and freezing your cahones off because it's not quite warm enough to wet-wade. I'm sure I'll be coming back to haunt these runs again soon. I really hope to be able to fish the entire length of the stream (within the bounds of the law of course) by the end of the trout season. Thanks to my good friend, Aaron Caldwell (chroniclesofcod.com) I have begun to compile a "Year List" of fish species I want to catch and bodies of water I want to mark off the list. I met Aaron on his quest for Redfish down in Corpus shortly before I left, and hope to fish with him again on his return to Calgary from Baja where he is currently on the hunt for Roosterfish. Helluva guy!
Well, we are far too deep into the night, and I've still gotta catch up on my Weeds. Hope you've enjoyed the photos, and stay tuned for more videos (as soon as my broke behind can afford some better movie editing software).
Until then, after-work special highlights: 2 'bows at 18", an instant set and tippet break on yet another bruiser, good laughs with a good friend, and my first taste of Bud Light Platinum.....GAHBAGE!!!
Stay Shiddy, my friends.
I really like those shoes. That is all for now.
ReplyDeleteYou know, I was told that those were the shoes of a hipster. That I, a respectable fisherman, who thought himself resourceful for pulling out these shoes because they were in the bed of the truck and they didn't wear on the existing blisters, was a hipster for wearing them! Nay, I say unto thee. These shoes actually grip the slick ass rocks better than my sandals. Thanks Syd. With your support, I shall continue to wear these shoes.
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