katghoti
12-15-2004, 06:23 PM
I eased into the water like I had for the past few weeks. It is running low and clear and I can see the fish stacked up in the riffles. I still have the same fly on as before, a size 18 bead head prince. I start my casting. Third cast the rod bends deep and I smile. I turn around and retrieve my fly from the bushes behind me. Shake my head and start again. This time the fly lands where I want (okay within a foot) and I follow the strike indicator down. Nothing. Recast. Watch. Nothing. Recast. Watch. This time the indicator stops, I lift my rod and it bends deep. Within seconds I am wading right into the middle of a good run to retrieve my snagged fly. I wade back to shore, check my tippet and move to the next run.
I starte flyfishing seriously a couple of years ago. I still use my "Black Beauty" rod that came in the kit with the same flyline. I have increased my flies a little by buying them and I have a pair of hip waders and a fly vest. But I keep trying, I usually catch fish and that is what keeps me coming back.
I hit the next run, this time I position myself so my backcast won't get tangled, and make the first cast. I squint at the indicator and it stops. I life the rod expecting to be snagged, and the water literally explodes. I am stunned for a second as line screams from my reel. I recover and lay the rod parallel to the water and fight the fish. I haven't seen it yet and expect it to be one of the rivers big whitefish. Hey a fish is a fish. As it gets closer it leaps from the water. Like in the movies, time seems to slow down as I watch the most beautiful brown trout leap from the water. The return splash wakes me from this dream and I fight the fish into the net. I am shaking now. Partly from standing in the current at a funny angle, but mostly from excitement. In my net is a 18 inch brown trout. I remove the fly and admire it for a minute deciding to take it home to each, or let it go. I wet my hand, reach into the net and try to get my hand around this beast. I take a piece of string from my vest to get some measurements. Three inches across the back and 10 inches around. But it is my Moby Dick. My white whale. I get it out of the net and revive it in the river and watch with a great satisfaction and it swims off to be caught again.
I am hooked. Later on I supplement this catch with two more browns of 14 and 16 inches, but that hook-jawed monster is still on my mind. So much that for christmas I am getting a new flyrod, reel, line, and fly tying kit. I am converted. My casting has improved and I have caught fish since that time, but I will always remember my first "big" fish.
Katghoti (pronounced catfish)
I starte flyfishing seriously a couple of years ago. I still use my "Black Beauty" rod that came in the kit with the same flyline. I have increased my flies a little by buying them and I have a pair of hip waders and a fly vest. But I keep trying, I usually catch fish and that is what keeps me coming back.
I hit the next run, this time I position myself so my backcast won't get tangled, and make the first cast. I squint at the indicator and it stops. I life the rod expecting to be snagged, and the water literally explodes. I am stunned for a second as line screams from my reel. I recover and lay the rod parallel to the water and fight the fish. I haven't seen it yet and expect it to be one of the rivers big whitefish. Hey a fish is a fish. As it gets closer it leaps from the water. Like in the movies, time seems to slow down as I watch the most beautiful brown trout leap from the water. The return splash wakes me from this dream and I fight the fish into the net. I am shaking now. Partly from standing in the current at a funny angle, but mostly from excitement. In my net is a 18 inch brown trout. I remove the fly and admire it for a minute deciding to take it home to each, or let it go. I wet my hand, reach into the net and try to get my hand around this beast. I take a piece of string from my vest to get some measurements. Three inches across the back and 10 inches around. But it is my Moby Dick. My white whale. I get it out of the net and revive it in the river and watch with a great satisfaction and it swims off to be caught again.
I am hooked. Later on I supplement this catch with two more browns of 14 and 16 inches, but that hook-jawed monster is still on my mind. So much that for christmas I am getting a new flyrod, reel, line, and fly tying kit. I am converted. My casting has improved and I have caught fish since that time, but I will always remember my first "big" fish.
Katghoti (pronounced catfish)