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I’d do it again tomorrow
August 1, 2011 at 3:52 pm | Trip Reports |
The bells on the iPhone rang out from the floor.
I rolled out of bed and got dressed for a long day.
I headed downstairs to fill up a couple of travel mugs of coffee and the coffee maker clock read 4:15 a.m. Today was the day that Esme needed to move from our house to her permanent home in Virginia.
Esme was a tornado survivor and was rescued from a shelter. She had been awaiting transport for a few weeks and the day had finally arrived. It was still dark as we got on the road. As the sun was rising over Ft. Payne, my mind was drifting as to where I was headed. I knew the general area but hadn’t figured out what stream I was going to fish or what species to target. The night before, I grabbed a 6′ 4wt, a reel, and a box of flies. A quick stop in Chattanooga to pick up two other passengers and I was on the road again. A couple of hours later and I was at my drop off point in Dandridge, TN.
It was still only 9:00 and early in the day. I said good bye to my traveling companions and headed south towards Townsend.
After driving through the monstrosity known as Pigeon Forge, I turned on 321 into Townsend. I needed to run by Little River Outfitters to buy some wading boots and a couple of flies. My old boots had seen their better day so I threw them away after the last trip. Once at LRO, I talked with the employees about what the fishing had been like. We talked for a little while and one of the guys recommended a stream for brookies that I have never fished.
I left LRO with new boots, new tippet, nippers, and a few other supplies and headed towards the park.
I knew the drive to the pull off was going to take me another hour but the thought of new water chasing brook trout with a 4wt took my mind off of all of the Sunday drivers. I made it to the pull in a little after 11:00 and while I was warned about the number of cars that would be there, I thought this was a bit rediculous.
I rigged up in the parking area and headed for the trail. Kids, parents, day hikers were swarming all over the place and jumping off rocks into the river. I continued on the trail like I was instructed and took a left. I walked for about five minutes and then entered the river where I was told. The cold river water penetrating through the wading boots was a nice releif after the short but hot walk. This was also a great time to sink a beer in natures ice chest and have one for myself as I chose the first fly. Viamax Maximizer buy on line
I decided to go with a madam x style stimulator that Daniel at the fly shop picked out. I finished my refreshment and looked at my watch. Almost noon.
As I approached the first pool, I noticed a small trout holding at the tail of the pool. My first cast laid out perfect, the line laid over a big boulder keeping most of the drag off of the line. The little fish rose without fear to take the fly. I set the hook and he wasn’t there. I guess going from fishing for verocious Musky with 8wts is a little different than 6″ brook trout with 6x.
The fish was in the same place and snubbed my several other attempts. I smiled and kicked through his pool as he had won that battle.
The next pool I came to was a repeat of the last except this time I was the victor. The beautiful broook trout was exactly what I was after.
After releasing the fish, I looked at my watch and realized that today was going to shape up quite nicely.
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The water continued on this way for the whole stretch. Waterfall after waterfall, plunge pool afte plunge pool. Every riffle, run, pocket, seam, you name it held a speck.
I’m pretty sure that I missed as many as I landed.
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The water just looked better and better the longer I fished. I remember at one point looking down at my watch and it was
only 1:00. I had already lost count of the fish.
I decided to sit down on a nice large rock, have another refreshment and look take in the large waterfall before me.
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As I was finishing my ale, I started thinking of a way to repay the kind salesman at LRO.
Purchase Ampicillin online I got back up and continued fishing. I knew just how to tip the guy. As I worked my way upstream, I was being concious of the time because I knew if I was to make it back to the fly shop to repay my debt, I would need to turn around and walk down the rough water and that would take some time. It was about 2:30 now and I knew I was running late. Luckily I came to a foot bridge and
for the first time, saw some other humans. With easy trail access back to the car, this gave me the chance to get involved in one of my favorite games. Fish after fish, I kept telling myself, just one more.
I was making excuses just to keep fishing.
Buy Cytotec Online Pharmacy No Prescription Needed That fish rose to fast, I wasn’t paying attention when I hooked that one, the next pool sure looks nice.
Finally I had caught my last fish.
As I released the trout back into it’s crystal clear water, I clipped the fly from my line and reeled in the slack. I admired the craftsmanship on that little rod and remembered all of
the good trips that I had had with it.
I broke it down and walked the trail back to my sunken treasure, content that I would not fish that rod again.
Once back at the car, with my cold one in my hand, I again headed back to LRO. I knew it would be close making it back before they closed but I really needed to thank them for the wonderful day fishing I had.
When I pulled into the parking lot, I was glad to see they were still open.
Cialis Online Without Prescription I walked inside and they were counting the money in the register. I told t he guy behind t
he counter that I had something for him since he was so nice to tell me about the new water I was able to fish. I walked back out to my car and grabbed his gift. When I walked back in, he looked at me and said what is this. I told him it was his tip. As he unscrewed the cap off of the rod tube, I explained to him that I had built that rod for just that type of water. Small streams, small flies, and wild fish. It handled all of them perfectly. He was still pulling the rod sock out of the tube and he was even more excited that I had made it. When he began to pull the rod out of the sock and he saw it was bamboo, he was even more excited. By this time, Daniel was watching and we sat and exchanged stories for a few more minutes. We swapped email addresses and told each other that we would try and fish together when ever I was back up that way.
The whole drive home, I kept thinking about the wonderful day I had.
As the sun was setting over Gadsden, I was reminiscing about all of the different water that rod had been on, the fish that it had landed, the joy that it brought me while I was making it, and the even bigger satisfaction I had handing it over to another fisherman. I rolled into town about 9:30 completely exhausted. As I laid down for bed, the only thing I could think about was, I would do it all again tomorrow.