After The Party was Over

 

After The Party was Over

4/16/23

  I can picture an image of a man standing on the bank watching me. He’s shaking his head and calls out “it’s fished out.” He might be right or close to it.

  From Friday till this Sunday morning there were at least 7 tents and a few kayaks in the camp site along the creek. By noon each day more vehicles showed up. During the day, if I passed by, fishermen were in the water lined up like a search party waiting for a signal to move forward. Well, maybe it was nearly fished out but I was sure there were a few left.

  Maybe the trout, they were fishing for, were tired of the minnows, meal worms, maggots and wax worms they were being fed? Maybe the trout were tired of the power bait, salmon eggs and night crawlers? Maybe there were a few trout that were not after spinning blades or the conglomeration of other hardware and that they were able to avoid?

  I swing my fly rod behind me and wait till I feel the weight of the Woolly Bugger load the rod tip section. I move my forearm forward and stop with a quick wrist. The fly line shoots through the cross wind followed by the bugger. Out, in the distance, the bugger falls to the water in a subtle splash. The arc in the floating fly line floats near the water surface and my offering swings in an arc down creek. I watch the floating fly line as my sensitive finger tips pinch the fly line feeling for the slightest strike. I’m not sure if I see the fly line pull away or my sensitive finger tips feel the strike first. Most of the time the strike happens so quick my instincts take over and I yank back the rod while pulling back on the fly line to set the hook. The fly line straightens and the tapered leader tightens on a hooked fish. I hold the cork grip tightly letting my pinching fingers, on the fly line, test the strength of the fighting trout. How much fight and vigor does this trout have? In he heavy enough not to try to bring him in too quickly? How much do I let him play the line before trying to bring him to the net? Evidently this fish avoided the fishing party!

 

 I continue to take a few steps at a time casting my offering in the same manner. Another trout grabs my offering and takes off like Barnyard Dawg after Foghorn Leghorn only to find out he’s attached to a secure line! This trout is heavier than the last. We have a good give and take battle with the tight line between us. I put a nice rainbow in the net.

  I release the rainbow back into the cold creek water.

  The wind blows and filters through my ponytail hanging over my vest. Smoke swirls off the end of my stogie I hold between my teeth and vanishes with the breeze.

  I look over to the bank where the image of a man stood. I wink at him and then turn my head. I take another puff of my cigar. I lift the fly rod and make another back cast with a grin on my face.

~doubletaper.