Friday, June 17, 2016

A Day to Remember

           It started raining on our way up the mountain. Sitting next to me navigating our trip, is a man I’ve known since I arrived here over two years ago. He has a brain full of knowledge, and knows more than most people will ever forget. His friends are the legends, and he himself is one too. We climb our way to the peak and back down the other side and see valleys of countryside being doused with rain. A large garden receiving life.

           We steer into a pull off on the side of the gravel road, a road which Greg has known since his early childhood days. As we gear up he tells me stories of his past, and great tales of fishing on days just like today. Days when rain, chill, and fog rule our surroundings.
           We march through the grass to arrive on the bank of a world renowned stream, yet we were the only ones who decided to fish it today. We each take our comfortable distances in the water and begin to fish. Within the time it takes me to have one brown eat my nymph, I learn Greg has already caught four on a dry. He offers his fly rod and I accept. Within the first casts I have netted the fish we saw rising on the far bank. Our journey continued upstream as Greg spotted rising fish one after another. Instructing me on their location within the seams. It was rapidly becoming a special day.

          The hatches were heavy, and consistent through the weather. Neither the mayflies nor trout were affected by the sporadic heavy rainfall. Sulphurs road the wind and sailed the river uncontrollably, as if oblivious to their environment.

          Hours later and growing weary, we were ready to end our day. Greg mentioned a stretch upstream he’d like to walk to before we left the water. When we rounded the bank and looked up river, we were speechless. Rising fish as far as the eye would allow us to see. Splashes dancing in the half light of the valley. It was in fact not time to leave.
         Once again we took our positions in the water and began to cast long looping lines to eager brown trout. Both of us hooking into trout at the same time, doubling up.  We did so with success until darkness over powered the ability to see our flies and the bite had settled.

Never have I experienced such activity that from morning till night all you need is one dry fly, the hatches never stopped.

On our trek back to the car Greg mentions that through all his decades fishing this stream, today was one of the best. That meant a lot to me, knowing I was able to share that experience with him. A man whose opinions and words I highly respect.

         The night ended with good food, beer, and conversation. Life seems to pass quickly these days, and the rate at which it does is hastily accelerating. I often find myself reminiscing on my childhood and where I am now, the transition of college to the working world is not far off. I aim to cherish this place and the memories it holds the best I can. Seasons of life come and go, that much is inevitable. But today, for us, we will have this day forever. 

 - Dando