sort of a shitty, hectic, unappreciated
end to the work week.

get home and fight the demotivation.
throw the gear in the car.

boogy down the highway, hit the short
country roads and find a thankfully empty
streamside parking lot.

but has anybody been thru earlier?
twas a nice day out, and those wild
trouts will hide for a while.

rig up, forgo the waterproofing
and plan to fish from the bank,
speedier to the water that way.

pick a fly on a hunch, tie it on.
fish for a bit, finding the rythmn.

was that a car pulling in?
don't see nothin'.

swear I heard something, look again.

hrmmm, who's that? oh great, the local
WCO. is he gonna harass me about my
open beer?

well shit, it's Bobby, I know that dude
from back in that day...

'nice rod' he says, 'who built it?'

Jim Downes up in Coburn...we shoot
the shit, talking cane, give him lead
or two on a classic Leonard he's
might be sorta interested in.

Younger WCO partner..
"just checking liscences..."

yeah, its there on my pack,
I spin around...(please ignore the
open Two Hearted....)

Where ya from?
yadda yadda, any luck?
yadda, yadda...

finally leave me alone.

The rainbow, the one that was
here in November, that I hooked
and broke off, that big fucker is
nowhwere to be seen. fish up
as far as I can go with dry feet.

switch to a streamer and start the
downstream swing back to the car.

work the pockets.
work the riffles.

into the flat water, work the far bank,
finally get into a groove, it's been a while.

sun is out of the air, feeling the chill.
roll that bugger towards that gnarly
overhanging tree...one cast, two cast.

and there it is...a damn big trout out of
hiding, chasing, following. oh, there are
those dormant adrenals, hello again.

sort thru the box, brown nymph, black
nymph, tangle and undo..damn fish is still
on the feed. undo another tangle, god I
suck at this. sun is gone, fingers numbing,
trying to thread a tippet in the waning light,
everthing a shade of gray, I hate contacts,
or I'm getting old. then try to add some weight....
is that damn fish even there anymore?

oh yeah, there he is.

back to a streamer, then back to some little
buggy thing...drop untold shot thru numb
fingers trying get some weight on the leader,
suddenly a fan of moldable tungsten.

change flies again, cast into the darkness?

nah, fuck it, it's dark, at least I got out
and learned where a big fish lies.
time to finish this beer, glad Bobby didn't
give me shit about that....only had the one.

damn, I needed that.
I love clean flowing water.

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