As I made my way up I-95 towards the Lehigh Valley, I couldn't wrap around my head that it was Christmas time. As anglers, time has a way of being warped by our moments on the water. Having spent a large chunk of time on the road and on the water during the fall, the year went by in a blur. My two hour car ride home served as a time of reflection as I contemplated the year's events and tried to think about Christmas time spent with family, friends, and the dogs. However, in the back of my mind was an itch that needed to be satisfied as soon as possible. I had an urge to fish my home waters for the wild brown trout of my youth. It had been several months, and I needed a quick fix.
I spent the better part of my first day home with my brother and father. We went on a trip to Cabelas and ran assorted errands before the Christmas holiday. We made it home in time for a quick one hour fishing trip down the road, where I caught my first fish on fly thirteen years ago. I made my way through the woods to a good starting point. I planned to power fish a two hundred yard stretch before dark. The stream underwent a facelift since the last time I left it. High water events left it transformed and super clean of any sediment. Recent rains had the levels high and slightly off color. It was a good time to be fishing for wild brown trout.
My first cast found a new depression along a run of slate. My indicator plunged and I tied into a slab of gold and brown punctuated by dots of black, red, and assorted blue halos. A perfect specimen from a perfect stream, during a perfect time of year. Satisfied, I left the stream and headed home. I slowly transitioned from the grinch who went fishing to the son and brother that I am. Ready for Christmas, it was good to be home.