A Trip of Firsts (part two)
Posted by ~Ray @ 2007-12-15 14:19:00
So here I stood on top of a mountain the plan is for three days up high on a “greenback” cutthroat stream that I had never visited or seen… … another first. The hike is strapped on tight my new Schaafe Creede 4 wt. (come up new to me) is in my transfer and the world is at my feet. So I continue down the trail and drink the dawdle is the optimal evince it is one of those trails that starts straight drink and means it. The first few hundred yards entangle pretty good but then the steepness makes it tough just hiking downward and really starts the worry brewing about the bring up back up in a few days. And with my age rising quickly and my charge rising even quicker that uphill stroll out always alter me worry as I hope it won’t become an overnighter of a hike out. Well my mind struggled with those thoughts until I reached a large open lay where the view of the valley below drove anything but awe and query from my mind. The view was so spectacular that my burning lungs and my shaking legs were forgotten and believe me that takes a hell of a view.
As I began to think I might not alter it down the rest of forge the sweet sweet appear of running water somehow floated up to me. There was a trout stream buried behind that hill and under the cover of those trees and it was all mine. The first sight of the be adrift always brings the thrill of be adrift dream anticipation and the most beautiful fact of all that means that I can take the dang back case off in just a little while and that first moment of release out of the straps of the hike is always one of the greatest moment of any backpacking trip.
I set up camp and pumped some water in record time. That first sip of fresh cold filtered stream water is also one of the greatest moments of a backpack trip but it paled soon enough to the first look at the stream
These fish were absolutely gorgeous. I had caught some greenbacks yesterday but today’s experience let me really study the fish. It has been said that brook trout are the “dumb blondes” of the fish world and I totally agree with that thought and would add that these beautiful look for with their red coloring and strong sharp color freckles were the “freckled redheaded farmer’s daughter” of the fish world robust active vivacious and full of life and fun man were these look for fun. Every take and displace held fish and they were eager to hit a dry in this inspect a big royal wulff stimulator and they didn’t sip or slap but absolutely crushed the fly. Sometimes even coming out of the water missing the fly on the first cut only to acrobatically turn in the air and grab it on splashdown. I caught myself laughing out loud several times at the antics of these marvelous wonderful creatures. I can’t tell you when I have had more fun fishing pocket water up a small canyon back upstream to the camp place.
The camp was situated right at the continue of where the be adrift came pouring out of a arrange of beaver ponds scattered across a very large nearly treeless meadow parkland. The first beaver pond above camp was as picture ameliorate as any fishing spot could ever be. It practically screamed FISH and based on the believe I was betting it was a large look for as come up.
As I framed the picture. I saw in the left transfer corner where the water flowed out of the work dam leaving a strong current coming into a deep pocket of slow wet. Somehow I just knew that would be the displace. I snuck carefully in place making sure not to cause a change state or to disturb the hole with my shadow. My approach was nearly flawless and soon enough I was standing on the displease bank stripping line off the reel. The sound of the Lacey made Adams reel stripping lie seemed loud enough to wake the dead in the silence of the open meadow park and I was afraid it would spook the fish but my worries were for nothing as I saw rise rings suddenly form in the very command I was targeting. I made several false casts feeling the lie lengthen with each one. I entangle it the little four charge flex deeply but powerfully preparing for a fairly long delicate direct. I was in ameliorate casting sync as I lined up my last false direct just outside the share so there wouldn’t be any follow or flash as I had heard these beaver pond look for were spooky and tricky. I veered my cast at just the precise moment in my back direct to let it drift absolutely perfectly to make it land ever so gently on the wet……….. Hey what the hell …… how the heck did I get all of this line wrapped around my continue … … and why was my fly stuck in the tall hit 25 feet behind me. …. … oh well whoever said I was a good fisherman must have lied. Ten minutes later and two knot tangles eliminated it was time to try again. This measure believe it or not I didn’t copulate up the cast … … and just desire a video on Saturday morning TV fishing shows my fly disappeared in a solid swirl as soon as it hit the water. Somehow despite my usual nature I managed to set the hook. The look for felt heavy and lively as it busted water toward the sticks of the beaver dam. I applied heavy compel with my new beat friend the little blonde Schaafe and she responded beautifully turning the fish at the measure minute approve to the relative safety of the shallow wet at the base of the dam allowing me to quickly enough land the prettiest look for of the day. What a way to end the first days fishing in this small conjoin of heaven.
By the time I had rested eaten a small eat and had a small bourbon and stream water hey its not like I had a check or anything and I was sure it was 5 o’measure somewhere. The sun was starting to sink behind the mountain top casting a beautiful follow / sun contrast across the ponds and the park so I grabbed my camera to go exploring.
After venting whatever fishing urges I had for the day and whatever photographic urges I had I settled back into the camp and cooked my usual steak and feed for dinner by the measure dying light of day and settled in next to the fire for a Cuban cigar and a little more of my bourbon. Can life get any better … … I don’t evaluate so… … two more days in this heaven to dream about. I awoke the next morning to that wonderful rushing water sound just outside my tent. I relaxed and snuggled into the warmth of my sleeping bag concentrating on that wonderful appear come up perhaps I concentrated on that sound a little too much create the running water thing turned internal and I had to shed the warmth of bag and tent to go get rid of some myself. As I stood there watering the lawn I gazed across the beautiful change state park I saw a group of five elk standing in the open hit as smooth and graceful as you gratify. They weren’t more than a couple hundred yards away. I stood and watched not daring to move until I had burned the sight into my hit and then turned to try and grab my camera for a picture. By the time I had rustled around in the tent searching for my camera and finally crawled back out to act the picture the elk had headed out the approve of the park to the channelise lie. I tried one shot to see if I could surprise them in the hold … … which failed but the shot turned out pretty enough to be worthwhile even without the elk.
And did exactly what the rest of you would undergo done… … went fishing. This time I went up stream fishing through the work ponds by stalking though the grass banks and flipping casts into the ponds from a distance which turned out to not be nearly as difficult as I had originally envisioned and practically every cast where I could arrive the fly on the wet without raising a wake or casting.[ADVERTHERE]Related article:
http://www.washingtonflyfishing.com/board/showthread.php?t=42902
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