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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
Lovin' this cold weather stuff. Always have.
I'll be back y'all. I dig the quietness....