Today Ross and I went to one of WB's favorite rainbow spots. We were up at 4:15 and on the road at 4:30. Sunrise was so spectacular Ross made me stop the car so he could snap an Instagram moment. What to call it? #Vermont#Morning? #Early? We argued it back and forth and he settled on #Longest_Day_Begins. Then it was a question of what to listen to. Early morning drive? Dark Side of the Moon. Run, rabbit run...
We did our hike in and were on the water before there was any hint of sunlight. There was a dead eagle swirling in the eddy at the top of the pool named Troutkillers. Eerie and sad. We both hooked chubby little rainbows and Ross a small brown. I moved down to the next hole, admonishing Ross to be careful. The wrong slip at Troutkillers might end your fishing days.
I fished one of WB's peacock buggers deep and slow. Near the bottom of the run the line came tight. Casually, confidently. This was a fish totally convinced he had eaten something good. I ruined his morning. He dove deep, under an overhanging ledge. Then up the pool. Then down. On the fourth run I finally saw a flash of color. A rainbow, thought I. Sure doesn't fight that way, though.
I shouted for Ross. He shouted something back and was a long time in coming. By that time I had landed and photographed my silvery brown river pig and was about to release her. Ross arrived breathless. He had caught an even bigger swine upstream. A true river pig. Too bad I didn't get to take a photo of him with his fish. No matter: He says he's 'beyond trout'. Last week he made me take him pike fishing. He used a 13" fly...
We did our hike in and were on the water before there was any hint of sunlight. There was a dead eagle swirling in the eddy at the top of the pool named Troutkillers. Eerie and sad. We both hooked chubby little rainbows and Ross a small brown. I moved down to the next hole, admonishing Ross to be careful. The wrong slip at Troutkillers might end your fishing days.
I fished one of WB's peacock buggers deep and slow. Near the bottom of the run the line came tight. Casually, confidently. This was a fish totally convinced he had eaten something good. I ruined his morning. He dove deep, under an overhanging ledge. Then up the pool. Then down. On the fourth run I finally saw a flash of color. A rainbow, thought I. Sure doesn't fight that way, though.
I shouted for Ross. He shouted something back and was a long time in coming. By that time I had landed and photographed my silvery brown river pig and was about to release her. Ross arrived breathless. He had caught an even bigger swine upstream. A true river pig. Too bad I didn't get to take a photo of him with his fish. No matter: He says he's 'beyond trout'. Last week he made me take him pike fishing. He used a 13" fly...
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