For the first time since November we had two consecutive days above 40 degrees this weekend. Kathryn worked, and me? I fished.
My traditional first-cast-of-the-year unspools on the only open water around, up at the mouth of the canyon, below the Rise. One has to wade through snow to get to the water, and even then, there is snow and ice on the rocks. There are pools, however – clear, deep pools, some of which look like they should hold fish, and some that do hold fish.
Saturday I didn’t wear my waders, instead strapping gaiters over snowboots and casting from waist-deep drifts. That went poorly. Sunday I put on the waders and shuffled into the water, which put me in position to make good casts into good water. It’s three months too soon for airborne bugs, so I offered up a five course meal of aquatic flies: size 16 to 20 beadheads, with enough shiny things on them to catch any hungry trout’s gaze. Sure enough, I hooked into one but didn’t land it, and saw a few others – some darting upstream, spooked by my shadow, some just chilling low, between rocks – but the fish are there.
