Thursday, April 19, 2018
The wind ripped all day, screaming down the canyon making casting an adventure.
It was foreign water, but friends had told me that if the wind shuts off, be ready because the switch will throw and shit will go down
The day was productive up until that point. Several browns graced me with their presence via the bobber and a couple came in via chucking meat. After a fall and winter throwing nothing but the long rod, it was a joyous feeling of being on a small intimate river catching fish that we really dont have much of around my home. Yes, I think i giggled a bit throughout the day
Still the wind was relentless, holding off the main event. I drove up the canyon with about an hour of fishing time before I had to leave, and found a suitable spot to throw the bobber rod.
Two casts into the new spot the wind mercifully laid down. The angry storm clouds that surrounded the canyon all day briefly let in the sun and immediately, I began to see what I had came for.
The tiny Blue Wing Olives danced in the air and minutes later, the first "slurp" of the day
The window had opened.
I ran up the bank and furiously threw another rod together. Old leader be dammed, splicing new 4x tippet onto last summers beaten up mono and attaching a size 16 BWO to offer the rising browns
I looked below to the pool and rhythmically the fish rose all around.
Gulp. Splash. Repeat.
Finally in position, the tiny fake bug rolled down the current and a nose came up to meet it.
Muscle memory shot into action and the dance began. Big fish, old English Reel, tiny bug.
It was the largest brown I have ever touched. 22 inches of butter and brown, I was a happy man
And just like that, the flashlight in the sky was cut off by a new, even darker cloud bank and the wind rushed back to greet me once again.
I stood on the rock that I was casting from and hoped for another opportunity.
The window had closed.