Originally Posted December 28, 2016
Yesterday we were taught our place.
The morning was much colder than it had been. A balmy 70 degrees the previous days sent our hearts into wild water and hopes of little trouts full of life. I guess that warm water will do that to an angler. Waking up to a hard frost and much colder temperatures, however, did not deter us from our wild dreams.
They should have.
We arrived at one of the most beautiful stretches of water I've ever been lucky enough to experience. It's full of life around every corner. From the various waterfalls to laurels, still thriving and as beautiful as they are in the summer.
Every pool we came to, "there's got to be a trout in there, look at how perfect the water is!"
Well, there may have been trout in those gorgeous pools, but we were not rewarded for our efforts, we did not get to meet one.
Maybe the drastic change in temperature was the culprit. Perhaps is was the improper choice of fly. As an angler you're never really completely certain, it just is what it is.
We gathered our pride, trudged out of the forest and drove the short distance to the Davidson, to hopefully avoid being completely skunked.
One. One slinky, but powerful brown.
Today the wind is howling outside. I can just imagine my fly line tangled in all directions, flys hitting me in the face. I cringe at the thought. Yesterday I was not happy with the outcome of the day, but today I'm thankful for it.
Sure, it wasn't an amazing day, but it was a day spent outdoors. It's one more day that I get to spend in the wild and not cooped up in a building, one more in a line of many.
or that I am lucky. For that one, single, spunky brown, I am lucky.