I've gotten to the point where fishing has become an increasingly less important part of fishing. At least that's what I keep telling myself. There must be something to it as I keep going fishing without engaging in the act. Indeed, I'd spent the previous four creek visits dawdling, reading, hiking and taking photos. The trips weren't a complete loss, I may have dozed off a time or two as well.
However, this day I'd rig a rod and wet a fly. It was time to justify the moniker of fisherman and use some of the accumulated dust gathering gear. It was time to catch a fish.
Remarkably, the fishing rust hadn't settled too deeply. I got a couple out of a sheltered run. Thinking that I could handle another fish or two, I meandered downstream on the snowy deer-tracked trail. The creek, here a straightaway, was considerably more exposed. The wind had managed to gather the proverbial steam, albeit, without the requisite warmth.
Whitecaps rolled on the normally pla…
However, this day I'd rig a rod and wet a fly. It was time to justify the moniker of fisherman and use some of the accumulated dust gathering gear. It was time to catch a fish.
Remarkably, the fishing rust hadn't settled too deeply. I got a couple out of a sheltered run. Thinking that I could handle another fish or two, I meandered downstream on the snowy deer-tracked trail. The creek, here a straightaway, was considerably more exposed. The wind had managed to gather the proverbial steam, albeit, without the requisite warmth.
Whitecaps rolled on the normally pla…