Trout Bum
Drag Free Drifter
Fellow pipesters -- greetings and salutations. May I suggest, before you read any further, a favorite pipe, and a tasty blend. Just a little something to enjoy, a smoky treat, while you view this post...
As we travel this life path, this Earth Walk, as we live out this carbon based manifestation that takes place within the confines of linear time, we are blessed with the the five senses that allow one to explore and experience the physical realm. Some days can be rather mundane. You know, days that seem to revolve around navigating traffic and trying to pay the bills. Other days find us high on mountain tops, swimming in the ocean blue, or walking solo through a sylvan landscape, pipe in hand, enjoying the play of light and shadow. And some days, the really good ones, we get to fish. And amongst those days that we can angle for trout, on high mountain streams, there are those days that simply stand out amongst the rest. The kind of day that only comes once in a lifetime, the kind of day that simply defines everything, a day that breaks one down, then rebuilds one into something somehow... better.
I was lucky enough to experience such a day, just last week. The planets must have been in some sort of arcane alignment, for I was blessed to find myself within not one, but two days of life altering fishing. Some sort of cosmic kind of synchronicity... My friend, Oscar and I, found ourselves in the proverbial "right place at the right time," only this right place and time was beyond special, beyond superlative, in fact, it was beyond the sublime. It was so incredible, that we ventured back the very next day, just to see if it really happened. And again, it was beyond compare. We heard reports from other anglers who fished in the proceeding days, and the magic had simply... vanished... like last night's dream on the very thin edge of your memory. We managed to hit a two day window of incredible angling that featured sight casting to HUGE wild rainbows holding in shallow water, and somehow, some way, these fish were feeding with reckless abandon. It was truly beyond anything I have yet to experience with these five senses on this humble journey that we call life. I can only conclude that I must be doing something right.
Check this out:
On my third cast, first day, I hooked and landed this five pound red-sider that exploded out of the river in a spray of crystalline droplets, each diamond drop refracting the morning sun with an intensity that halted all thought. An angler could fish the high Rockies for an entire summer and only hope to catch just one fish like this. This particular rainbow was the smallest fish I caught during the two day window of Twilight-Trout-Zone Nirvana:
My good friend and fishing pal Oscar Marks caught this spackled beauty on a size 20 pheasant tail variant of his own design. Simply stunning.
Yours truly with a wily rainbow that required me to cross the river four times in order to land. I was fishing for these monsters with a four weight rod and ultra light tippet. Fantastic; a visual and tactile delight.
Question: am I releasing a fine wild trout, or a wild and fine part of myself? I am deeply contemplating this perplexing koan, though I probably won't get back to you.
Oscar Marks with just another fish of a life-time.
Big fish, small water. You have to understand and appreciate that the majority of these fish
were caught and landed on hooks not much bigger than a semi-colon. Like this: " ; "
At one point, Oscar told me, he caught three hawgs on three casts, all like this:
Big troutie, big grin:
Here is Daniel Webtster's newly revised definition of Shock and Awe:
My last cast of the day, on day two, found me hooked into an absolutely shockingly huge trout, close to twice the size of the ones pictured here. I was only able to fool this fish with the help of Oscar, who was spotting up on the bank behind me. He kept telling me that there was the biggest fish ever holding in the slot in the middle of the river, though I could not see the fish due to my lower angle. So, with his direction, I was getting good drifts right in the middle of the river, when he yells, "SET - SET - SET!" He had actually seen the fish eat my fly! My rod immediately bent into the most extreme flexing of graphite imaginable. This fish took me all the way into my backing -- twice. I had to chase the monster over 100 yards downstream in order to keep him on. After an unbelievable battle royale, I had him up close to the bank. Oscar moved in below to net him and got a really good look at him. Just as he moved into position to bring him to net, he exclaimed, "No way!" in reaction to the size. At that moment, the fish broke off with a powerful shake of its head, and was gone. Oscar looked up at me and profusely apologized, repeatedly. I simply laughed to myself, and smiled huge at my friend, who was still in the river.
"What a way to end the day," I thought to myself. Somehow, I was unexpectedly glad that we didn't net the biggest trout either of us had ever seen. But I had hooked him, felt his power, and sensed his beauty.
And that was more than enough. Enough to make the whole affair sort of fade, the moments so pure that they all seemed to merge into themselves, leaving in their wake a deep feeling of contentment... a feeling of a mysterious dis-belief, yet at the same time, an oddly familiar knowing... I found myself left with everything; of a new way of seeing and being, all at once, and at once, all.
Many would think that fish would haunt me.
Instead, I find myself empowered.
Tight lines to all,
Trout Bum
As we travel this life path, this Earth Walk, as we live out this carbon based manifestation that takes place within the confines of linear time, we are blessed with the the five senses that allow one to explore and experience the physical realm. Some days can be rather mundane. You know, days that seem to revolve around navigating traffic and trying to pay the bills. Other days find us high on mountain tops, swimming in the ocean blue, or walking solo through a sylvan landscape, pipe in hand, enjoying the play of light and shadow. And some days, the really good ones, we get to fish. And amongst those days that we can angle for trout, on high mountain streams, there are those days that simply stand out amongst the rest. The kind of day that only comes once in a lifetime, the kind of day that simply defines everything, a day that breaks one down, then rebuilds one into something somehow... better.
I was lucky enough to experience such a day, just last week. The planets must have been in some sort of arcane alignment, for I was blessed to find myself within not one, but two days of life altering fishing. Some sort of cosmic kind of synchronicity... My friend, Oscar and I, found ourselves in the proverbial "right place at the right time," only this right place and time was beyond special, beyond superlative, in fact, it was beyond the sublime. It was so incredible, that we ventured back the very next day, just to see if it really happened. And again, it was beyond compare. We heard reports from other anglers who fished in the proceeding days, and the magic had simply... vanished... like last night's dream on the very thin edge of your memory. We managed to hit a two day window of incredible angling that featured sight casting to HUGE wild rainbows holding in shallow water, and somehow, some way, these fish were feeding with reckless abandon. It was truly beyond anything I have yet to experience with these five senses on this humble journey that we call life. I can only conclude that I must be doing something right.
Check this out:
On my third cast, first day, I hooked and landed this five pound red-sider that exploded out of the river in a spray of crystalline droplets, each diamond drop refracting the morning sun with an intensity that halted all thought. An angler could fish the high Rockies for an entire summer and only hope to catch just one fish like this. This particular rainbow was the smallest fish I caught during the two day window of Twilight-Trout-Zone Nirvana:
My good friend and fishing pal Oscar Marks caught this spackled beauty on a size 20 pheasant tail variant of his own design. Simply stunning.
Yours truly with a wily rainbow that required me to cross the river four times in order to land. I was fishing for these monsters with a four weight rod and ultra light tippet. Fantastic; a visual and tactile delight.
Question: am I releasing a fine wild trout, or a wild and fine part of myself? I am deeply contemplating this perplexing koan, though I probably won't get back to you.
Oscar Marks with just another fish of a life-time.
Big fish, small water. You have to understand and appreciate that the majority of these fish
were caught and landed on hooks not much bigger than a semi-colon. Like this: " ; "
At one point, Oscar told me, he caught three hawgs on three casts, all like this:
Big troutie, big grin:
Here is Daniel Webtster's newly revised definition of Shock and Awe:
My last cast of the day, on day two, found me hooked into an absolutely shockingly huge trout, close to twice the size of the ones pictured here. I was only able to fool this fish with the help of Oscar, who was spotting up on the bank behind me. He kept telling me that there was the biggest fish ever holding in the slot in the middle of the river, though I could not see the fish due to my lower angle. So, with his direction, I was getting good drifts right in the middle of the river, when he yells, "SET - SET - SET!" He had actually seen the fish eat my fly! My rod immediately bent into the most extreme flexing of graphite imaginable. This fish took me all the way into my backing -- twice. I had to chase the monster over 100 yards downstream in order to keep him on. After an unbelievable battle royale, I had him up close to the bank. Oscar moved in below to net him and got a really good look at him. Just as he moved into position to bring him to net, he exclaimed, "No way!" in reaction to the size. At that moment, the fish broke off with a powerful shake of its head, and was gone. Oscar looked up at me and profusely apologized, repeatedly. I simply laughed to myself, and smiled huge at my friend, who was still in the river.
"What a way to end the day," I thought to myself. Somehow, I was unexpectedly glad that we didn't net the biggest trout either of us had ever seen. But I had hooked him, felt his power, and sensed his beauty.
And that was more than enough. Enough to make the whole affair sort of fade, the moments so pure that they all seemed to merge into themselves, leaving in their wake a deep feeling of contentment... a feeling of a mysterious dis-belief, yet at the same time, an oddly familiar knowing... I found myself left with everything; of a new way of seeing and being, all at once, and at once, all.
Many would think that fish would haunt me.
Instead, I find myself empowered.
Tight lines to all,
Trout Bum
