The weather report said 60 degrees and clear and I didn’t have any pressing obligations, so I grabbed my gear and headed to Skidmore Fork to see if I could scare up a brookie or two.
Side note, I actually left my rods at home and only realized it when I was three quarter of the way to the water. My patient and understanding wife was kind enough to meet me half way and bring me my rods…
I hit the water about 12:30 p.m., starting at a hole not too far from the parking area. And sure enough there were a couple of fish ready to pound a nymph.
I had a couple of places on the stream I wanted to fish so I moved on, hitting likely pools as I went along. In some spots I was a bit surprised that I didn’t move any fish but I didn’t switch flies or tactics, being content with the occasional take. If fact, I managed to fish the same two flies and rig all day.
The first place I wanted to see was upstream aways so I jumped out and went up the fire road to see how good my memory was. It had been a couple years since I been to that spot.
Surprisingly, my first shot landed me 20 yards above where I wanted. But it was quick work to get there.
I managed to miss a nice fish in a small back eddy, that took a whack at the dry just as it landed. I fished up from there, with little action for the effort.
My final destination was just above the second ford. Years ago I had been fishing with a good friend. As I recall, it had been a bit frustrating of an outing. Rising fish but spooky. Pre tenkara, which made it worse.
As we were scouting the run, a nice fish rose in a tricky spot under some overhanging limbs. My friend fired a picture perfect cast, got a good drift and landed a the fish. It was one of those experiences that keeps you coming back.
I was thinking of that day, as it was my friend’s birthday the next day and I wanted a fish to commemorate the memory and his birthday.
Sometimes you get lucky…