Dry Flies, Rivers, Trout & Tarpon.: The Angler

Jun 26, 2021

The Angler

I overslept some, err, a lot, as it was much needed. The angler saw me coming down the path and waded over to meet me as I stumbled along at 9:30 am. It was a relief to hear I hadn't missed anything, though I wished I had, and was just late to a happening. It wasn't, and I wasn't.

After a retreat back across to the downstream tip of the island that separates the fishy side channel from the wider, faster middle channel, I sat in the grass and watched. The angler, whom I've come to know, watched a sole rising fish. In recent days, he has learned each little seam, current line, and position to be in for those large fish moving in and out of the shallow channel. One spot in particular kept holding a large fish. There were no bugs to speak of and a brisk northerly wind blew tiny waves downstream.

The fish rose nearly straight across the slow current, with the wind pushing directly across the casting line. A tough cast, but the angler made it look easy. The fish ate the visible caddis within a few casts, . I'd call the ending a draw, as the hook worked loose with the fish coming to net in the slack water below the island, but he was caught and fought before going free. The angler won because he got the fish to eat against some odds.

I could just sit and watch a skilled angler work like this often, and even more so on a calmer, hatch-filled morning. In this peaceful place, with little outside noise or distractions, time stands still. This is my relaxation zone, a place for tranquility and reflection. Today it was needed, after a week of dueling with super-charged bullets on the MO. However, I will admit to wishing the morning was filled with rising trout and buzzing drags. I came to fish huge brown drakes every evening. But for a couple of fish early yesterday evening, I haven't fished much, and that's ok. The angler's fish, and some overdue conversation, were enjoyable enough.