Within the Great Smoky Mountains

 

Within the Great Smoky Mountains, NC

5/08/2021

I could feel the rush of cold water against my knees as I stand in the middle of the Ocanaluftee River in which I would consider a crick back home in Pennsylvania. The water is deeper on each side of me, as I look downstream, and flows fast in deeper runs. The sun beats down its warm rays though the water feels much colder running through the mountain valley of laurel and forest trees. The waves sparkle like new dimes. In the distance I can hear the roars of motorcycles taken the bends in the winding mountain road far off. The road noise soon disappears like the smoke of my cigar with an easy breeze that follows the current. With the silence of the road noise the birds are more pronounced in their chirps as is the gurgling of water against the exposed rocks and boulders. I can smell a distance campfire that’s carried by the wind.

  I cast out the Woolly Bugger, like I have been, while wading the river. I cast out to my right and let the bugger swing into the deeper wavy run while watching my fly line and feeling for any such twitch through my tightened grip on the cork handle. The bugger swings out of the faster current into flat calmer water and I feel a swift grab. I wrist the rod back and the 4 wight top section bows with a tightened line. A trout tugs wildly and I know this trout isn’t like the past caught smaller wild rainbows. I can tell by the heftier weight and fight. The trout scurries downstream across below me and continues to distance himself from me as I let tensioned line slip through my fingers. He pulls and jolts the line and the rod flexes with each jerk. I get him swimming upstream beneath the faster current. He turns straight down from me, tugs time and again and returns under the wavy current. I keep the rod low to the water not wanting him to surface just yet. He darts upstream into a back eddy behind a big, nearly exposed, boulder. He holds steady behind the boulder. I’m not sure if he got loose and I got a snag. My line catches the boulder and there’s no motion in the undercurrent. A slight tug lets me know he’s still attached so I move downstream while keeping the rod up to get him to swim out from behind the boulder. It works and he swims down below me. I take in line and bring him closer to me as he fights not wanting to come my way. Just below the surface I see his dark lengthy body. I force him up river as I take out my net. I reach high with the fly rod and he reluctantly swims closer. I net the wild butter belly brown trout.

  

 I release him into the current flow. He swats his tail, takes deep and disappears into the rush of water. I take a good puff of my cigar I hold between my lips and watch the clouds of smoke be carried off with the breeze. I check any damage done to my soaked bugger, all’s well. I continue to fish downstream and after each cast expecting another twitch.

  Time tics away. Trout being caught. The sun shines brightly. The distant road noise comes and goes. Birds sing and flutter in the air. The constant sounds of gushing water surround me. Trout are waiting.

~doubletaper