Posted on July 17 2020
It's Friday. I'm a little tired, the painting project has been adding 3 hours a day to my "work" schedule and it didn't disappoint me one bit to wake up this morning to a drizzle that cancelled both the painting and any other outside projects that might have been farther down the "To Do" list. It was time to get my fishing gear organized.
Went out to the car and got my olive box and two of the three sulfur boxes and brought them in to be reorganized. Tossed out some of the flies that didn't work or were beyond repair, sat down and tied a dozen flies (sulfurs and olives), applied water shed and put them under a hot light to "cure".
That done, I washed off my wading booties and set them out on the porch to dry so I could contact cement the felt bottoms back onto the the boots where they were coming loose. Got out my backup pair and put them in the car. Ate lunch, put a few answers down on the crossword puzzle and might (just might) have dozed off for a few minutes. Arose from the recliner at 1:00 and headed for the Deposit sulfur hatch. I was in Hancock when I realized that the dozen flies I tied were still under the heat lamp drying. It was while walking into the muddy bottomed edge of the stream that I realized that the felt bottom of the second string boots had come unglued. Dave at the Troutfitter did a quick fix with black electrical tape. It was not until I reached into my vest to change from last nights spinner to today's dun that I realized that my olive box and two sulfur boxes were also back at the camp.
The fishing? Are you kidding me? Of course the water was covered with sulfurs, with fish rising everywhere. Had a pool to myself and my third string, wrong colored, too big, listing to the right sulfur even got eaten a few times. When the hatch abated about 4:00, I made the trek back to the Lordville Estate to recover the missing flies, fly boxes and the dry, clean but as yet unrepaired first string wading booties. Drove back up to Deposit, found a pool with two anglers just leaving a now empty pool. Armed with a full array of both sulfurs and olives and equipped with the first team booties I entered the fray. So did another angler coming from the other direction returning from a long walk upstream. We had an enjoyable time sharing the pool which had more than enough rising trout for both of us. He caught a 17 inch lifer rainbow and I had someone willing to take a picture of a grinning old angler with a 20 inch brown.
Went out to the car and got my olive box and two of the three sulfur boxes and brought them in to be reorganized. Tossed out some of the flies that didn't work or were beyond repair, sat down and tied a dozen flies (sulfurs and olives), applied water shed and put them under a hot light to "cure".
That done, I washed off my wading booties and set them out on the porch to dry so I could contact cement the felt bottoms back onto the the boots where they were coming loose. Got out my backup pair and put them in the car. Ate lunch, put a few answers down on the crossword puzzle and might (just might) have dozed off for a few minutes. Arose from the recliner at 1:00 and headed for the Deposit sulfur hatch. I was in Hancock when I realized that the dozen flies I tied were still under the heat lamp drying. It was while walking into the muddy bottomed edge of the stream that I realized that the felt bottom of the second string boots had come unglued. Dave at the Troutfitter did a quick fix with black electrical tape. It was not until I reached into my vest to change from last nights spinner to today's dun that I realized that my olive box and two sulfur boxes were also back at the camp.
The fishing? Are you kidding me? Of course the water was covered with sulfurs, with fish rising everywhere. Had a pool to myself and my third string, wrong colored, too big, listing to the right sulfur even got eaten a few times. When the hatch abated about 4:00, I made the trek back to the Lordville Estate to recover the missing flies, fly boxes and the dry, clean but as yet unrepaired first string wading booties. Drove back up to Deposit, found a pool with two anglers just leaving a now empty pool. Armed with a full array of both sulfurs and olives and equipped with the first team booties I entered the fray. So did another angler coming from the other direction returning from a long walk upstream. We had an enjoyable time sharing the pool which had more than enough rising trout for both of us. He caught a 17 inch lifer rainbow and I had someone willing to take a picture of a grinning old angler with a 20 inch brown.
SQRxGaEvLeUTJO
anCzoZPMLJSGQcl
Got a few years on you, not going to give it up to until I can positively no longer get around in the rivers…. just bought yet another fly rod… one more that I don’t need… gonna give it a few years to “break in “ Got an 8 in my birthday next year…. fortunately it’s not the first number… but it’s close!!
Oops, sorry for the double message. I did not think first went through. There’s that old age malarkey surfacing yet again!!
LOL! Ain’t old age great!! However, still very impressive that you still managed a 20" brown after a full day of the travails of senior citizenship short term memory woes! To make you feel a little better, being 74 years young myself, we headed to the EB today and fished a beautiful run. Unfortunately, at the end of the day in pitch dark and with tired, 70 year old legs, wet gear and holding our rods, we simply could not rescale the bank to our cars. After laughing at our aging bodies, we craftily established an assembly line up the hill to convey gear, tied a rope to a tree for assistance and made our escape.
LOL! Ain’t old age great!! However, still very impressive that you still managed a 20" brown after a full day of the travails of senior citizenship short term memory woes! To make you feel a little better, being 74 years young myself, we headed to the EB today and fished a beautiful run. Unfortunately, at the end of the day in pitch dark and with tired, 70 year old legs, wet gear and holding our rods, we simply could not rescale the bank to our cars. After laughing at our aging bodies, we craftily established an assembly line up the hill to convey gear, tied a rope to a tree for assistance and made our escape.