First Time

It was on the "567" where i took my first rainbow on a fly and I guess it was as good a first place as any to wet a line. The river is known for trout it flows clear and gently though pastoral rolling farm country. Where i parked the car, the river is 40 feet or so across with plenty of open space between the trees which made the casting easy. I waded up an down every inch of about 300 or more yards of the river from side to side, kicking and stomping everything in site. I guess i figured it was the only way to gauge the bottom of the river and it currents (I know better now). I also assumed that i could just stop anywhere, that the fish were everywhere and that equipped with all the paraphernalia i could afford, would enable me to just catch fish or better still they would key into the cool logos and just jump right into my net.

After several hours with nothing to show, I waded out for a drink and a snack, during which time i "rested the water"(and myself).  After the short break I worked my way back to the water, i fished the edges and found mostly course fish. It was (and is) always fun to catch sunnies, but i did not drive 4 hours for sunnies, i was here for Trout. I guess i thought that the "good fish" (the trout) must be in the deeper current seam in the middle which was a good 2-3' deeper than the rest of the stream. So I switched from the bead heads, shrimp and nymphs which worked fine in the weeds to a Hornberg (mostly b/c i liked the way it looked) it seemed like a big meal for a hungry trout.

While changing flies i felt a presence behind me but when i turned to scan the horizon, nothing was there. Usually i am fairly sensitive to animals (see the "Brown Rocks" story), so i turned back and there 20 or so feet up river was a snake winding it way down toward me. My first instinct was to run, or some other such responsible grown-up action. Even then i was not certain that his heading my way was a plan or he was just caught in the current and i was downstream in any case i guided the tip of my rod to gently alter his slither and reroute him away from me. This worked fine for both of us.

Back to the Hornberg... I fished it down and across, not b/c i had read Bergman's "Trout", but b/c it was a hot day and i had been cooking in my waders for hours. I  and was just plain tired. I let the fly hang in the current and drew it back up in short strips, other times ijust jiggled the rod's tip. With none of the graceful cast and no hits this was close to being my first and last day as a fly fisher. At some point i was on to a good fish, although to this day i can not recall the strike or even the bump prior feeling the fish. I honestly think he really just hooked himself. I reeled him in and held my first fly caught rainbow, the fish was only about 14" but it was the greatest fish i had even held. I knew it was special and this one strike committed me to a life sentence of fly (well mostly fly) fishing.

My first instinct was to keep and eat him (but in the past I only eat them when camping or I am in need). After i had admired the catch, i slipped the hook out and tried to release him, but found him sluggish and unable to swim away. I walked him out to the current and held him so he faced into the flow to revive him and after a few minutes he was fine and swam crisply away.  All things considered one fish was a good first day with a fly.