The problem has been compounded lately by a stressful work schedule and tight deadline that I'm afraid will entirely crowd out my spring steelhead fishing. You look forward to something all year, and then a silly thing like work, and the need to pay bills gets in the way. I keep saying, though, that the nice thing about living in Trout Country is proximity- being minutes from first class streams.
I went to my obscure stretch of beach and found- ice. Not only that, but I couldn't cast to save my life. It never helps to have a strong wind at your back, but I just couldn't get my rhythm down, couldn't feel the rod load. Too much pent up frustration. So I canned that idea, grabbed my other rod and chucked egg patterns in the creek that flows out there. I'm not choosy yet, I just want to fish. I caught a couple of small rainbows, and then, as the sun was going down, I drifted a dark seam of water and on the second pass my line came firmly to a stop, and when I tried to dislodge it from the "rock" it came up shaking. It was a small fish- 4 pounds, but it went a couple of rounds before coming to hand.
|the only ice left in the Straits|
I needed that- I needed a night that wasn't caught up in work, business and bills. I needed a secluded place, the sounds of geese and gulls, to see bald eagles in courtship flight, the sunlight filtered out through high clouds in a place that always seems a world apart even so close to home. It was good to land a fish between sand dunes on a pleasant early spring day. It was good to land a fish.
|chrome on ice|
So, I'm done fish pouting. What has been a long drought has broken, and with spring just coming to Trout Country, I'm looking forward to a great year.
|the smile is back|