I've spent the past six and a half months living in a fantasy dream world.
Last night, it all came crashing down.
For the first time since I broke out the gear this spring, I actually put all the fishing crap away...because for once, I honestly don't know when I'll make it out again.
It's not away for the year. I hope to make a few trips a month still. But everything just got more complicated. Daylight hours are still waning, Default is closed for the season, and the chill will be turning the bass off if it hasn't already.
Putting the gear away is like sifting through the leftovers of a failed relationship. It just doesn't seem right. This has easily been the best fishing year I've ever experienced. Diverse and successful. Fly fishing trips have seen Adirondack ponds and local lakes, trickle streams and Ontario tribs, and have brought to hand all manner of trout, bass and panfish. Trolling Ontario has brought salmon, steelhead and browns, and we filled the coolers (and our stomachs) with mackerel and bluefish in the outer-banks, not to mention tangling with a few black-tips.
It was a year of firsts, and will hopefully continue to be, as my trusty new 8 wt carries me through the fall and winter steelhead season. I have nothing to complain about, but as I think of my poor rods stuffed into that dark corner, I can't help but be saddened by the fact they linger unused.
The boss is gone...I just may have enough time for a run to a lake I haven't seen since spring. A half hour from now the rod and I will be riding down Rte 66, and the world will have meaning again.
October 21, 2008
Posted by FoulHooked at 2:58 PM