I Am Haunted By Trout

The summer has been filled with fish. I have enjoyed smackin new species and scratching them off my wish list. Each species caught on the fly has given me a sense of accomplishment when I challenged myself a year or so ago to think outside the box and try something new. I hooked into Tiger Muskey with Stout, missed the big set with Colby, ripped tailing Carp out at the pond, and been patient on the Crappie. The Pike have eluded me when Jason and I tried our window of opportunity and Big Lake Trout "Mac's" are soon to be on my radar.


I hit the water with Brent and Jason this week. Summertime Caddis fishing at its finest. Walking across the field the bugs hovered around us. The cool water felt good on my exposed legs. I could feel that first instant rush of water enter into my wading boots reminding me how much I love to wet wade. As my hand skimmed across the top of the grassy bank, a storm of fluttering Caddis hit the air.



I took time to capture the moment and paused to watch the others fish a nice riffle. My enjoyment out on the water over the years has gradually changed. My excitement for others and the opportunity to take a picture has rivaled if not equaled that same rush when hooking a large Brown. I am content watching fish be caught more often then sticking fish myself. It has been gratifying, a challenge in its own and with my experiences I have grown.



It was not long before Jason was into a beautiful fish. I paused to watch him maneuver the fish downstream and into a section of calm water. Brent headed up stream and as I looked into the sky I could see the large thunder clouds clipping the corner of the horizon, missing us with its rain. Again I took a photograph and began to make my way upstream.



Brent worked a large Rainbow underneath an overhanging tree. The lie and outside seem was a difficult one to cast to and after several attempts of presenting a CDC Caddis, we were all rewarded as we watched an awesome hook, set. The Bow took Brent down stream. It was strong, and healthy. It gave a great fight.



I eventually put the camera down to fish some nice runs with Jason. We took turns having large trout strip our line into fast water and break us off. The rush and excitement lasted into the night. It was late when we got off the water. As we walked back to the truck I grinned. The river was ours, not a single soul, it was quiet.



Last night as I tried to sleep I thought about the trout we landed and the brutes that got away...