After a few hours of staring at the bobber and catching the occasional fish, when you finally see the first smattering of bugs that make the fish loose their minds you get a bit excited.
Then the callibaetis come off in waves and it's on. The rises come at a steady pace but with no predicability as to where so you sit on the pontoon poised and ready to strike.
Some sessions are better than others. Over the years it's as wild as it gets with a fish every cast and others like this year are a bit different. The bugs were there, the fish gave a lackluster effort and really didnt show like normal. The why or why not is the part of the mystery that keeps me going, as if I am trying to solve a riddle who's answer is always a moving target.
I get a feeling that I know what it's like to be a bird dog and catch that first scent of a pheasant, and work it all the way through to the point.
Still 2 hours pass in what feels like 10 minutes. All of a sudden you realize that you havent seen a bug in 15 minutes and the last rise was just as long ago. I finally uncoil the tension and sit back and relax, like I just came up for air after a long deep dive into fishing mania.
After being hyper focused for that time, it's great to look up and see what's around you. In this case, it's a beautiful lake surrounded by miles and miles of public land.
That fact gives me hope that this interaction will continue as long as I keep coming back to this place.
Till the next time when I deliver the cast in a state of bird dog like focus.
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