Leaves crunch under the felt soles of wading boots. It would be all but silent out here if it weren’t for the leaves underfoot, and the wind ripping through the tree tops sounding like a highway filled with semi-trucks flying by at ninety miles an hour. A blue jay sounds its high pitch call as it crosses the trail in front of me at lightning speed. Its blue is a stark contrast to the ground covered in dull curling reds and yellows and the grays and browns of the naked trees. I don’t know how many times I’ve walked this trail now, but it’s more than the fingers and toes I have I’m sure.
Back at the camp site I started a little fire at the back of the Jeep, but I wasn’t really sure why. A granola bar for dinner didn’t actually require a fire, and while I did have a folding camp stool, the black flies were so bad that I didn’t see myself sitting out for more than a few minutes before going insane. I guess I was lighting a fire because that’s just what you do when you’re camping. It’s an expected routine thing. You’ve always done it, so whether you need one or not it just seems the thing to do. It passes time anyhow.
The stream’s last defense was the thick alders that lined it, so thick that I doubt thorn bushes could have done much better at all to keep us out. The Lost Boys had told me no waders, you’ll destroy them in there in two minutes. I left my waders behind but questioned it of course, but now I could see, I could confirm. Pushing though the undergrowth, I felt a stinging on the back of my left calf, and then the same on my right thigh as alder branches that were intertwined better than the fibers in a rope held me back as I tried to push through. They grabbed fly rods, slashed at faces, pulled hats from heads, but in the end the will of the fly fishermen was more than they could hold back, and we stood at the water’s edge.
- Tags: 3wt, Adirondack brook trout, adirondacks, beaver meadow, black flies, bluegill on the fly, Brook trout, Camp Sagamore, catch and release, fish bum, fish stories, fishing lessons, fishing memories, fly fishing, Fly Fishing Adventure, glass is not dead, in search of, life experience, life lessons, north country, small stream fly fishing, trout, Trout bum, trout power, trout season, trout stream, wild brook trout, wild trout, zen and the river
Here we were, me and JP, on a privately owned lake on fifty-thousand acres of privately owned land in the Adirondacks, gliding away from a submerged dock after John gave a swift push off with his foot. I wasn’t going to fish the lake, not yet anyhow. I was the...
- Tags: 3 weight fiberglass rod, 3wt, Adirondack brook trout, Adirondack League Club, adirondacks, Brook trout, catch and release, custom glass fly rod, fiberglass fly rod, fish bum, glass fly rod, glass is not dead, hiking, muir, north country, Northern Pike, small stream fly fishing, streamer, streamer junkie, trout, Trout bum, trout power, trout season, wild brook trout, wild trout
I caught a really good brook trout up north, in the 20” range. Then I didn’t fish for two weeks and when I finally did I caught a great 21” brown. Then two days later I went back to the same spot and on my short 3wt rod, because I’d...
- Tags: 3wt, 5 weight, Adirondack brook trout, adirondacks, Bass, Bass on the fly, Blugill on the fly, bottom feeders, bronzeback, Brook trout, Brown Trout, crappie on the fly, creek chub, dry fly, fall fish, fish bum, fly fishing, Largemouth bass, Northern Pike, pan fish, panfish, panfish on the fly, Perch on the fly, Pike on the fly, red fish, rock bass, rock bass on the fly, simply fish, smallmouth bass, smallmouthbass, stocked trout, sucker fish, sun fish, sunfish on the fly, trophy section, Trout bum, trout power, trout season, trout stream, walleye on the fly, west canada creek, wild brook trout, wild trout