A "perfect" day?

Earlier I posted some pictures and words from my fall travels.  The "too good" post has had me thinking ever since I wrote it.  Can we (I) ever be satisfied?  Its either too sunny, too hot, too cold, too windy, raining like hell, no hatch, fish too small, or something else that just isn't quite satisfying.  Or, its just so fucking good that it becomes too easy.  Cast and stick a pig.  Then another, and another, and there's another pod of big heads there, and stick some more.  It becomes routine, with little decision-making, few variables, and sore arms.  Too good?

So just what is a perfect day?  It sure doesn't happen often.  It's not the day where pods of fish rise nearly recklessly filling their mouths with bug after bug, including the one on the end of my line.  But, it's kinda fair weather, and there sure as hell ain't no wind.  Not too crowded either, for that matter.  I mean, I'm talking perfect here, not just awesome. 

It starts in the mid-morning.  This allows time to awaken from a good night's sleep, eat breakfast involving bacon and eggs, casually get dressed for the day, rig the rod and leader of choice, and get to the river without any rush or worry of missing the beginning of the hatch.  Its not hot or cold, and rain gear isn't needed.  There's likely some clouds though, either to start, or coming.  This shit really doesn't happen much on sunny days. 

Upon approaching the water, a large head is soon spotted eating the first insects of the hatch-of-the-day.  It could be pmd's, mahoganys, caddis, baetis, yellow sallies, or even big drakes.  My perfect day could not involve big stoneflies or terrestrials because it will be time spent hunting heads, fish rising in a particular rhythm, in a particular lane, to one or more abundant floating insects.

Now here's where it gets tricky separating "really good," "great," or "epic," from "perfect."  The fishing won't be too easy.  It takes a few minutes to find the head that makes my knees shake a little.  There's a riser here and there, more than a few, but the river ain't boiling with 'em.  Each fish is spotted and evaluated for size and degree of difficulty, but not easily approached without some consideration of the current, light, obstacles, and just how close I think I can get.  But I can approach, carefully, stalking each one like a heron, as I like to say.  Another couple of minutes and I'm finally in position.  The fish is still up.  I can cast, but the lane is not straight and true, and there might be some moss or a limb to deal with too.  The tougher, the better, as long as its possible.

I might have to change flies because not every fish is going to take the fly (Last Chance Cripple!) I have tied on all day on the "too good" days.  Some just won't eat the cripple, Adams, caddis, Hanger, CDC emerger, or other all-day fly.  This is a good thing, because I need to use something else in the box of a thousand at some point, don't I?  All those hours tying, all those dollars buying, "just in case."  The perfect day is one where I need a few of those, but one or two changes will get an eat with a good cast.

So not too tough now, I do want to catch a bunch of "good" fish.  Perfect?  I'd say that's a hooked fish about every 20 minutes or so, on average.  Three fish an hour, from tricky spots, with careful approaches, skillful casts, and some luck.  That's just about right.   That allows for some eats that I miss too, so its still pretty fast action.  This won't go on all day.  It will last about 4 or 5 hours.  Just long enough to enjoy the hell out of it, but not too long to get bored with it.  I want to leave the river because the hatch is over and the fish are down, not because I'm just hungry, need to take a dump, or my body has had enough.  10-3, 12-4, something like that is about right.  I can leave the water to go make a sandwich, use the outhouse, and sit a spell knowing I'm not missing anything I traveled so far and spent so much time and money to find.  I can sit and think to myself, "THAT was PERFECT!"

It's still fun to have "epic" days where its too easy, just don't make a habit out of it.  Additionally, required are those that leave you scratching your head, getting schooled by the fish you can't make eat, or are in just plain shitty conditions where a fish won't be caught regardless of what you think or want.  It better be ok, because that's the way it goes most days. Its all these other days that make that one special window where everything is just right, perfect.

I've had a few.  One on the MO earlier this month.  One on the Fork in September.  But then again, too few to mention.