Cody309
Well-Known Member
My most recent narrative describing some bad luck on the water:
Any angler knows that throughout any fishing season, you experience good and bad luck spells. Sometimes these spells last an hour or two, sometimes a month or two – no matter the duration, they are always frustrating, and seem like everything that possibly could go wrong, does.This was my case early last week, when I decided to explore a new section of river I had never fished. The place had great reviews – my good friend Jerry just had a great session a couple of days prior. It seemed to be timed perfectly, as I was getting a bit frustrated at work, and could not wait to get out on the river to decompress and get rid of some stress. As soon as the workday was over, I tossed on my fishing gear in such a swift transition, that you would have sworn I was Clark Kent turning into Superman. Little did I know that today, I would be my own Kryptonite.
I arrived at the site, locked up the car, and started my hike up river. It looked perfect – gorgeous pools and riffles around every bend.
I could see the brown trout stacked up in the pool and immediately thought it would be a great couple of hours on the river. That changed when on my first cast, I over-casted the pool, caught my fly in some fallen trees, and snapped off. And so it began…..
To make a long story short, the outing was disastrous – I lost fly after fly because of stupid decisions, mistimed my hook-set on numerous occasions on trout that were chasing my dry flies, and at one point, while re-rigging after a break-off, looked down to realize that I was absolutely covered in fire ants.
After sufficiently drenching my gear and getting rid of all the ants I could find, I decided to call it a day and head home. However, I had no plan to give up that easily.
Thankful it wasn’t an ant, I took a minute or two to appreciate a giant stone fly.
I brought my gear to work again the following day, and decided to try a different spot even further up-stream. The drive to the section of river was beautiful – something you’d swear was straight out of Italy, or a Forza video game, and was a ton of fun in the Mini I was driving. With high spirits, I hit the river. Today I wasn’t losing as many flies, and soon after starting, managed to hook into a small juvenile Atlantic salmon. Unfortunately, the little guy managed to flip out of my hands before I was able to snap a photo, and I moved on. Feeling like the bad-luck had washed away, I walked to the next pool, tossed in a hare’s ear, saw my line tighten, set the hook, and immediately started fighting a 13-15″ brown trout. As soon as the hook was set, he propelled himself out of the water, gave a big shake, and spit my fly right back in my face. As soon as that happened, I knew my luck had not completely changed, however I reminded myself of the positive in that I managed to hook into my first Atlantic salmon.
The inlet that housed the little Atlantic.
I continued my hike for an hour or so more until dusk took over, and I headed back to the Mini. About to take my last step out of the water, I grasped for my net to begin unhooking it, and realized it was missing. Completely gone, lazily drifting somewhere, possibly a kilometer or two away, downstream.
It was easy to tell that the Fishing Gods were not looking upon me kindly, and for some reason had decided to smote me.
These words stared at me on the drive home – reminiscent of my day on the water.
As demotivated as I felt, as I drove away in the Mini I promised myself I would not get too down, and I would persevere.
Sometimes fishing throws you tough, frustrating challenges, but that’s what it’s all about – this is what makes catching that first fish to break a skunk-streak feel so amazing. You can only learn from these circumstances, and that is something I plan to do, and come away the victor on my next outing.
That, my friends, is a promise!
You know where he lives - give him a couple days and return 
