second of my two-part series of cross-posts from the fly fishing bulletin board. this post was in response to the debate between big fish/rewarding fish. someone asked what the most rewarding fish you’ve ever caught was. a lot of people had good things to say about how it was actually the fish their child/spouse/savior caught, but i went the self-centered twenty-something route and actually wrote about the most rewarding fish i caught:
On one of the first Saturdays of the summer that I was able to get out by myself, I tried one spot on a particular river and was chased off by canoe after canoe banging downstream. I love canoeing maybe as much as fishing, but not when the paddlers bang their paddles against the hull every stroke and crash into the bank six times within a 50 yard stretch of water.I gave up on that river and headed to another a half hour away. I got there to find it very quiet. surprising, but I think because it was now early afternoon and a hot day, everyone had simply given up and headed home.
I fished to a couple different fish and a couple pools, but the sun was very high and very bright, the water was crystal clear and I chose to fish a section where the water didn’t get deeper than 18 inches…
Finally, I detected a decent brown in the tailout to a riffle. i stood there sweating my a** off (for some reason, still wearing my “rubber pants” on that sunny day) and worked that fish. He was hiding behind a small rock in midstream. I kept casting to him.
Once I was convinced I’d gotten a couple good drifts by him, I would tie on a different nymph (being a beginner, it was no small decision to snap off a fly and attempt to tie on another one).
All the while, I slowly and unconsciously entered ‘the zone,’ where the fishing part of my brain settled into observing what was going on, contemplating options, and making decisions, while the non-fishing part sang some song lyrics silently in my head and thought about one of my best friends.
Finally, I tied on a hare’s ear (surprise surprise) and on the first cast was rewarded with a good drift and then that wonderful feeling of a strike. He came to hand pretty easily, no more than a 10-incher, but I then headed back to the car, took off those waders and drove home with the windows down and a great sense of accomplishment.
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