Hitting the road early this morning felt good. Made sure my son would be picked up if I didn't make it back by 5:30 this evening, grabbed some grub, and put the gas pedal in the fun position.
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The thermometer in my truck read 27 degrees when I got close to my target creek. Waders, boots, gloves, hood, check. Strung up my 5 wt. and hit the first crick. Icicles clung to every surface shimmering like ornaments at Christmas. Quite attractive. Two small rainbows -- one of which was missing the front half of its head. It got lucky somewhere along the line. Oddly enough, the last time I fished this creek I caught browns and no 'bows. Go figure.
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The first creek grew boring real quick. Boom. Make tracks to the next target on the agenda.
Deep holes, big pools, loud falls. These areas should hold a few fish. I slid down and climbed up about 50 vertical banks today. Was worth it.
Cast. Strip, strip, strip, fish on! A good small stream brown is pulled into the net. Smiles all around.
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Literally, I released the fish and......
Cast...Strip, strip, strip, BOOM. Another fish on, and even bigger. It never gets old when a fish takes a big fly and you set the hook, and the butter just rolls to the surface, struggling for release. This was a battle. Strong fish.
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Netted. Done, son.
This would conclude the action for the day, not complaining. Exploration ensued for a couple more hours before making the long trek back to the vehicle.
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Lovin' this cold weather stuff. Always have.
I'll be back y'all. I dig the quietness....