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As part of my annual trout season ritual, I traveled to Lady Blue the day before official trout season ended. I went not so much to battle and capture the bows but rather to say so-long to their tribe. I knew that their numbers along with their days of life were diminshing.
So I plopped a fly into a seam and a connection with a beautiful little bow was mine to be. I brought the fish to hand, removed the hook and gave a message that he could take to the brethen and sisterhood.
I came today not just to say so-long to the bows but to see if the bronzebacks had become active and I didn't prove that to any extent. However, shortly after arriving I did capture one fat little smallie. Now, less than an hour with Blue I had one bow and one bronzeback and somehow I felt totally satisfied...so I quit fishing.
I went downstream to Seventeen because not only is it my favorite place to caress this beautiful little lady, it is the place I alway judge her health and today she looked quite vibrant. Both the flow and level of Blue was up. The level of the river at Seventeen was half way up on Sam's Rock which is something I haven't seen in quite awhile. Although she looked quite healthy today she is still not the river she was in 1981 or even 2000. But, she was more lovely than in the recent past when drought has caused her to look distressed.
While at Seventeen I gave myself time to reflect and ponder a question that has been on my mind. The question is simply whether I am more of a fly-fisher or just a man that loves a special little river, or perhaps a mixture of a little of both. That question still remains unanswered for me, however there is one thing I know that may answer it for anyone else.
If someone approached me and made me an offer of fly-fishing anywhere in the world at anytime but I couldn't ever fly-fish Blue again...I would have to simply say "No thank you sir, I'll stay with Blue." Maybe the answer I look for is in that thought itself.
I guess it could be argued that I am true Blue. On the trout bum tourney in 2005 I fished some very wonderful water in other parts of Oklahoma, Arkansas, and Missouri. But not once in the eleven day outing did I feel comfortable...you know...at home. I wasn't. We all have water we call our home waters and Blue is mine. It truly is the only place I care to fly-fish for trout and will always be such.
I hope that last bow I caught, the one with the message, will be my last bow this season. And I hope the bow will take my message to his kinship for the message simply was "Live at peace".
I think I will take another couple of weeks off from fly-fishing and reorganize my flies for the search for Smallies at Blue. I know that they are there and they await us who practice this science of love we call fly-fishing.
Barry
I came today not just to say so-long to the bows but to see if the bronzebacks had become active and I didn't prove that to any extent. However, shortly after arriving I did capture one fat little smallie. Now, less than an hour with Blue I had one bow and one bronzeback and somehow I felt totally satisfied...so I quit fishing.
I went downstream to Seventeen because not only is it my favorite place to caress this beautiful little lady, it is the place I alway judge her health and today she looked quite vibrant. Both the flow and level of Blue was up. The level of the river at Seventeen was half way up on Sam's Rock which is something I haven't seen in quite awhile. Although she looked quite healthy today she is still not the river she was in 1981 or even 2000. But, she was more lovely than in the recent past when drought has caused her to look distressed.
While at Seventeen I gave myself time to reflect and ponder a question that has been on my mind. The question is simply whether I am more of a fly-fisher or just a man that loves a special little river, or perhaps a mixture of a little of both. That question still remains unanswered for me, however there is one thing I know that may answer it for anyone else.
If someone approached me and made me an offer of fly-fishing anywhere in the world at anytime but I couldn't ever fly-fish Blue again...I would have to simply say "No thank you sir, I'll stay with Blue." Maybe the answer I look for is in that thought itself.
I guess it could be argued that I am true Blue. On the trout bum tourney in 2005 I fished some very wonderful water in other parts of Oklahoma, Arkansas, and Missouri. But not once in the eleven day outing did I feel comfortable...you know...at home. I wasn't. We all have water we call our home waters and Blue is mine. It truly is the only place I care to fly-fish for trout and will always be such.
I hope that last bow I caught, the one with the message, will be my last bow this season. And I hope the bow will take my message to his kinship for the message simply was "Live at peace".
I think I will take another couple of weeks off from fly-fishing and reorganize my flies for the search for Smallies at Blue. I know that they are there and they await us who practice this science of love we call fly-fishing.
Barry
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