Katy suggested I go fishing this morning since she was planning to visit her sister today. I put everything together last night before going to bed. Four hours later, I was up and getting ready for the day. Kyle and his crew went yesterday and had limited success. The report was the fish were easily spooked and not very hungry. I wanted to bring Oakley, but I was afraid he might spook the fish. But last minute as I was feeding him his diet chow, I couldn't resist taking him along.
I dropped the tail gate of my pickup and Oakley jumped in without prompting. We got to the stream around 7:30a. I've fished this stream a few times and have never caught many fish. But I knew eventually my fishing curse would have to pass. Oakley was a little hesitate to follow me across the stream. Apparently this Golden is afraid of water!
I hooked into a 16"+ Brown in one of the first holes. It had been such a long time since I've seen my indicator drop, I almost forgot what to do. It bulldogged to the bottom and wasn't about to let up. But just as I was landing it, it came unbuttoned.
A few more casts and I snagged up on a subsurface branch. I pulled my fly free and my hand was covered with midge larva. I switched my bottom fly to a #16 black body w/ gold rib Zebra and the fun started from there. I hooked rainbow after rainbow for the next few hours. Although they were stocked trout with poorly developed fins, I was happy to actually catch a number of fish on an outing. Man I needed that.
It seems that Kyle is a little jealous of Oakley getting the spotlight on fisheatflies. Well after an outing like this, I wonder if Kyle has been the bad luck charm. But just so he feels included, here's your spotlight Kyle...
Kolob Kyle and I started fishing together early this spring. On that outing, neither of us caught fish. In fact most of our fishing trips together, neither of us catch many fish. Kyle has stress urinary incontinence in the evenings and if you ever go on an overnight fishing trip with him, never get between him and the bathroom. With his DDMR yellow Chums and his trusty orange fishing shirt, Kyle woos the fish into submission. He secretly eats bananas when no one is watching and blames others for the low catch rate. He is top-crust in his 7-year-old Simms and bottle of Purell. Kyle is dedicated to the sport of fly fishing and I am pleased to call him a friend.
The streets of Kingston, filled with dancehalls where you could listen and dance to the selecta playing early reaggae are long gone, the influence of hip...
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