We met my folks for four full days of fishing fun (say that five times fast) and rented a room at the lodge. I do think someone who is included in these trips should invest in a camper. I like having a room, but I don't like having to share walls/floors or ceilings with other people. I learned an excellent lesson while a Park Ranger that frequently shows itself to still be true (and I think it's a quote from some movie, too): "A person is smart; people are dumb."
The people below us, after making an incredibly loud entrance, did finally quiet down and go to bed, after which we were treated to earth-shattering snores resonating up from their room below us. It took the a/c fan constantly running and a Benadryl to help me through that. The next night we were treated to some pure 100% grade-A LOUDMOUTH yankees from northern Illinois, in the next COMPLEX, who we could hear plain as day chattering and honking like a flock of geese in scratchy nasaly voices, and foulmouthed to boot. Marden did some hollering at them in what he called his "yankee accent", but we thought it sounded more like Chinese...didn't phase them, though. They just kept right on hollering between drags on their cigarettes.
What has happened to common courtesy? Decorum? Just plain decency?
Despite the people, our trip was a blast. We caught many a fish, and I have to brag on Mom. She has been fly fishing only a handful of times, and her very first outing at Roaring River she caught a trout. Our last outing to Mo
ntauk, she got bites but didn't manage to successfully land a trout. This time, she kicked some trout butt! She's got it figured out, and in a very short amount of time she's not only on top of casting, fly selection, and presentation, but she can fight and net a trout just like a pro.
ntauk, she got bites but didn't manage to successfully land a trout. This time, she kicked some trout butt! She's got it figured out, and in a very short amount of time she's not only on top of casting, fly selection, and presentation, but she can fight and net a trout just like a pro.Unfortunately the weather didn't cooperate completely...we spent a few hours a little chilly and damp due to standing out in the river and being caught in numerous short but torrential downpours. If there's one thing I detest, it's being wet and cold. Ironically, my two very favorite sports - fly fishing and snow skiing, often lend themselves to landing me in this condition. Go figure. However, despite a couple of damp days, we had more than enough beautiful weather to make up for it.
The last day always seems to be my best fishing day, and this time was no exception. After the folks pointed their car west, Marden and I got back to fishing a while longer. I started pulling fish out left and right, while poor Marden stood staring at an empty hook. All's fair in love and war, and fishing, as far as I
'm concerned. While making our way downriver back toward the car, I stopped at one of our favorite holes - a large boulder bordering a deep turquoise pool chock-full of trout, with rumors of "the big ones" that sit on the bottom out of sight. An old man was fishing the hole, but I noticed his empty stringer. He looked sideways at me as I caught a fish on his right, and again on his left. He finally introduced himself as Bill, 75 years old and just retired, and said he was attempting to catch supper but wasn't having any luck. Just then a fish grabbed his lure, but before the fight even really started his line broke. We visited a few more minutes before I headed for the upstream side of the boulder to let my size #16 beetle fly (tied myself, thank you) float past. On the third cast, the bowels of the pool opened and the largest fish I've had even NEAR my line at Montauk rose from the depths, sucked my fly into it's maw, and the fight was on! At least I had the presence of mind to set the hook nice and good, because this sucker was HARD to get in! Every time I'd get my net close, he'd take a run for deep water and strong current, nearly wearing my arm to a frazzle and bending my fly rod double. When I finally got it netted, much to the relief of both Marden and Bill, I was in a quandary as to what to do with this nice rainbow. Keep it for a mount? Let it go? Usually I would've opted for letting a fish this size go. This time I ended up giving the fish to poor Mr. Bill, standing there in freezing cold water, still with no fish for supper. When I offered him the fish, his eyes got big and he said, "You're SURE you don't want to keep him? He's a beaut..." I said I was sure, and maybe it would make up for that fish that took his lure earlier. Bill said he'd sure appreciate getting a fish like that if I didn't mind giving it up, and we promptly put it on his empty stringer. He sure was proud of that fish, and to me it was worth giving it up just to see the smile on his face as he went back to his fishing.
'm concerned. While making our way downriver back toward the car, I stopped at one of our favorite holes - a large boulder bordering a deep turquoise pool chock-full of trout, with rumors of "the big ones" that sit on the bottom out of sight. An old man was fishing the hole, but I noticed his empty stringer. He looked sideways at me as I caught a fish on his right, and again on his left. He finally introduced himself as Bill, 75 years old and just retired, and said he was attempting to catch supper but wasn't having any luck. Just then a fish grabbed his lure, but before the fight even really started his line broke. We visited a few more minutes before I headed for the upstream side of the boulder to let my size #16 beetle fly (tied myself, thank you) float past. On the third cast, the bowels of the pool opened and the largest fish I've had even NEAR my line at Montauk rose from the depths, sucked my fly into it's maw, and the fight was on! At least I had the presence of mind to set the hook nice and good, because this sucker was HARD to get in! Every time I'd get my net close, he'd take a run for deep water and strong current, nearly wearing my arm to a frazzle and bending my fly rod double. When I finally got it netted, much to the relief of both Marden and Bill, I was in a quandary as to what to do with this nice rainbow. Keep it for a mount? Let it go? Usually I would've opted for letting a fish this size go. This time I ended up giving the fish to poor Mr. Bill, standing there in freezing cold water, still with no fish for supper. When I offered him the fish, his eyes got big and he said, "You're SURE you don't want to keep him? He's a beaut..." I said I was sure, and maybe it would make up for that fish that took his lure earlier. Bill said he'd sure appreciate getting a fish like that if I didn't mind giving it up, and we promptly put it on his empty stringer. He sure was proud of that fish, and to me it was worth giving it up just to see the smile on his face as he went back to his fishing.
Here's Dad casting for lunkers...or anything that'll bite...
Me at my favorite hole.
3 comments:
I have that kind of luck at hotels too. Once, my neighbors were so loud that I finally just beat on the wall. Not a good idea. They then came and beat on my door threatening to "whip my @#!%" and I had to call the manager to calm them down and sneak out of my room the next morning.
I'm not much on fishing myself, but it looks so beautiful and peaceful there. At least if I were standing in the water I wouldn't be doing housework.
Are you sure Mr. Bill didn't take that fish home and have it mounted?
Ahhhh, it looks beautiful...
Congrats again on the ginormous catch!
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