I fished on Saturday. I was hoping to do one last trip to the Chesterfield Gorge area before the water temperature became too low, and yesterday was the day.
I didn’t see any cars parked as I trundled down River Road, making my way down the dirt trail and negotiating the rocks.
I felt incredibly excited to rig up my fly rod and walk to a favorite spot. There was no bug activity, and so, most likely, the trout wouldn’t be too active just yet.
I started in some of the usual riffles and runs and was blanked. The fish were likely saving their energy and hanging out in deep and quiet water. So, I changed tactics. I hooked three and landed two.
Around lunchtime, it was off to a different river. It was cold and windy there.
This river was much more productive. I landed about 15 trout, maybe 20? I decided not to count. It didn’t feel very Zen to be transactional. The highlights were a 12″ brookie and an 18″ rainbow, which was super fat. See the first three photos up top.
I stayed until dark. I walked my way back to the car, hoping I wouldn’t trip over a rock, all smiles and feeling content. I was very happy. It’s a sort of quiet and deep happiness. A feeling of joy to spend a day on the water.
Door-to-door, it was 14 hours of “flow.” Even the seven hours of driving were enjoyable.
A good day, a meaningful day.