"SNAP"... There Goes a $300 Fly Rod! (12/8/10)

This past Saturday evening, sitting in front of a plate of stuffed chicken Marcella, while at the local Olive Garden with Donny P and Average Joe Fisherman Scott, plans were made to cast streamers in search of trout on Sunday. The three of us took the lack of objection from our spouses as confirmation that it was indeed ok to go fishing. It’s funny how sometimes the things that are not said have the most meaning. Besides, once the plans were made they couldn’t be undone; at least that is what we tell our wives.

Unfortunately, once Sunday came around, Scott was unable to make the trip north. Turns out he has had several projects going for some time and was set straight as to what Sunday’s activities were really going to be, and apparently those activities did not include fishing. Truth be told, I did not think he was going to miss much as far as catching trout was concerned. I have targeted trout in the winter before using spinners with little to no luck. Those outings, for the most part, were usually fruitless and miserably cold. As it turned out however, this trip was different. It was different for a few reasons. First, I packed enough clothes to stay the weekend. Second, the spinning gear was left at home. In its place was my nine foot five weight Scott SAS fly rod and box of streamers. Third, my fishing partner for the day was a guy, who unlike me, prefers to fly fish when fishing, and has plenty of experience casting streamers. If the trout did not participate, I figured I would at least learn something new. After all, as I mentioned in a previous post, change, both good and bad, is memorable.

Once Don and I were on our way, I noticed the temperature was a cool 34 degrees. “Not too bad” I thought, “I can fish in that.” Don was kind enough while riding in the truck to take the laces out of my felt bottom boots and lace up my rubber lug sole boots. The forecast had called for three to five inches of snow where we were going. Snow and felt bottom boots do not mix, mainly because felt bottom boots are un-insulated and provide no warmth while fishing in the cold.

The temperature was a brisk 30 degrees when we arrived at our destination which caused us to put on as many layers as possible while still in the truck. Stepping out of the truck I tried to slip into my lug sole boots. With two pair of heavy socks on, it felt like I was cramming two pounds of you know what in a one pound bag. With no other choice I had to pull the laces and swap out boots again. Such is the life of an Average Joe Fisherman. Donny P, being the friend that he is, said, “Are we going to fish sometime today or are you just gonna screw the dog?” Ok, that’s not what he really said, but that’s what I heard. “Don’t wait, I’ll catch up,” I said.

With Donny P in the river I started to lace up my boots. Halfway through the first boot, I heard Don yell something. Stopping what I was doing, I yelled “What?” “Fish,” he yelled back. With waders around my knees, looking like a man in search of some toilet paper after realizing there was none, I ran to the bridge. “Is it big?” I yelled. “Yup!” The reply was short and to the point. “Hold on, I’ll get my camera!” With waders still around my knees, I ran back to the truck, got my camera and took a picture of Don holding a beautiful eighteen inch brown trout. Not a bad way to start the day!

It was a surreal experience to be casting for trout while the snow was falling. The beauty of it was almost impossible to take in. Of course it doesn’t hurt that the trout were willing to participate. Don ended up landing one out of three trout that decided his lure was too irresistible to pass up. I ended up landing one out of five. Although my trout was not near the size of Don’s, I did have my chance. While fishing the front of an island I cast my streamer down the opposite side from where I was standing. Stripping the streamer back to me and past the point of the island, a twenty inch brown trout came out to take a closer look. Running out of line to retrieve, the large trout finally noticed me and bolted, leaving a large wake in its place. With my heart almost beating out of my chest and locking the location of the trout firmly in my brain, I cleaned the ice out of the eyes of my $300 fly rod and inadvertently snapped the tip. That’s how it is to be me, one second I am a fishing god, tempter of really large trout, and then a second later something happens, snapping me back to reality and the realization that I’m just an Average Joe Fisherman! I’m not complaining though, I have other fly rods and the broken one came with a lifetime warranty, so it’s not all bad. In fact, it was just another day in paradise.