Tuesday, November 2, 2010

I've Been Doing This For 35 Years...




A few moments after the final swing and the last dead drift, Adam and I found ourselves with a long hike out. A weekend spent hiking, plowing through currents, and non-stop fishing has left us with weary legs and minds. As we made our back to the truck, our minds refocused from catching fish to what is awaiting in the truck: food. The food is the driving force on our hike, the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. The trail is our new obstacle. It crisscrossed through the woods, over streams, and under logs. It has been beaten down into a muddy pulp by the hundreds of anglers that have made their way on it over the past month. The river was flowing rapidly as we attempted to ford it for the third time of the day. Small boulders moved under our feet and are pushed downstream by the roaring current as we skated precariously on top of them. As always, things got sketchy in the middle despite the water never getting higher than our waists. Back on dry land, we finished the last leg of our hike up several hills and back into the parking lot where we simultaneously reached for the leftover Wegman's submarines from the night before.


























As we hung out on the tailgate of the truck reminiscing on the weekend, an older man approached from the corner of the parking lot. He was freshly out of his fishing gear and like us, reaching for something to satiate his thirst. Except for him, it was a Coors Light, instead of Wegmans and an iced tea. Before long, we were talking about our days on the water, where we are from, and how long of a drive we had. After hearing of our journey's and probably spying the sleeping bags in the back of the truck, the old man proclaimed, "I have been doing this for thirty five years." At the age of sixty five (I would have guessed fifty) he was still migrating to New York in the fall to chase salmon and steel. We talked a brief while longer about the river and the fish that dwell in it. It seemed after thirty five years, the river is still a mystery to him just as it is for us. Some days produced fish after fish on anything you wanted. While others, leave you questioning the ten hours of driving that brought you there. After he departed, my mind began to fast forward. I can only hope to still be slinging it in my sixties like the old man we met in the parking. However, I highly doubt I'll be hiking miles from the truck, crossing rivers, and sleeping in the bed of the truck in a Walmart parking lot.



















5 comments:

Pike fly-fishing articles said...

Some nice looking slabs of silver there. Real envious of that trip by the way.

Benjamin said...

You guys seem like some seriously fishy guys. Love your posts.

Bigerrfish said...

another well thought outing and another fab group of fish pics,,
Great post guys

Stephanie & Dustin said...

Chowing down after a long day on the water, and a vicious hike is the best thing in the world. Suddenly, ordinary food is the most delectable thing on the planet.

Looks like you guys had one heck of a time. Great pics, great post as always.

-stephanie

Ryan said...

Funny what we do to fish. I hope I am still doing what ever it takes to get a tight line. Good post.

The Average Joe Fisherman
http://averagejoefisherman.blogspot.com/