Midges. What’s not to like? I know, in May and June I’ll be laughing at my midge box, if I can find it, while fishing PMD's, Caddis, and Drakes on 4x.
I can't believe I’m saying this, but on days like
these, I don’t miss summer. By
now, I’ve been casting only size 20’s and 6X since October, so it feels “normal.” I can see the fly, get the drift, and not
break off with the soft glass rod.
Like fall, fishing is on banker’s hours, preceded by
breakfast, instead of that sunrise madness.
No crowds, no splash-and-gigglers,
and rising fish all day. I fish only a
couple 100-yard sections of river, as nobody is putting them down.
Just work up the bank picking off each
head. Other fishermen are mostly courteous, giving space and exchanging a
pleasantry.
The winter sunshine is warm, so skip the jacket. Still February, I feel like I’m getting
away with something, a small misdemeanor in between snows. Really it’s just taking advantage of the
brief pause in wind and cold, which miraculously occurs on the same day. Not often, but it’s appreciated. My fishing buddy drives 400 miles to hit it. I’m 45 minutes away.
Come late-afternoon, fish still rise above and below
where we stand, but we know when to say “when.” Enough is enough, they’ve been eating all
day. Walking out, we admire the rising and catchable trout. “That’s a nice one there.” Mixed feelings of satisfaction and
temptation, so there’s a couple more casts even though we’re done. Both the fishing and catching couldn’t have
been any better. Maybe February was actually better than June?
Some hate this river because “it’s too crowded,” the fish “don’t
fight,” the water "gets jacked up and down," and there’s “no hatches.” MmmHmm.
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| Hope for this gunslinger yet. |
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| This is what a fly rod is supposed to look like. |
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| New pattern. Bent Point Griffiths. |
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| Right in the nose. |
