Thursday, June 23, 2011

Dale's Tale

Ugh. No one can take me fishing. I left my fly tying stuff at home. I guess I'll just do a story.

I arrived at Sylvan Dale around 8:00, excited as could be to get on the water before. The last time I was there, I had netted a twenty incher on the third cast. Same flies, same conditions, why not the same fish? But no, it had been an hour and I still had nothing to show for it. I decided to move down to the next lake, Island, to see what was going on down there. I walked the whole lake, and finally hooked into a nice rainbow. Two head throws and a huge jump, he was gone. So I made my way back toward Mother Lake. On the way, I stopped and looked at the four big trout feeding two inches behind a huge log jam. Like Erin once said, "It shooshed us like a mother. Look but don't touch." But at that moment, I made a decision. I was going to touch. My first cast managed to land perfectly behind the logs right in the view of the fish. He ate it, and I set. Fish... what? Nothing. I missed the strike. I was so disappointed that I missed my fish, I almost left. But I put in another cast. Not good enough, and way behind the fish. But wait. The fish turned, swam down, and ate the Chronomid I tied the night before. Set, Fish on!  I battled, and then suddenly,

There was weight in the net.


  1. Okay obviously I'm doing something wrong. No, check that...I know I'm doing something wrong and I know what it is.

  2. Well then, what are you doing wrong?

  3. Well, I really like small streams and don't really care about fish size. But every once it a while it would be fun to hook up with a guy like the one you're holding.