Even the most well known and widely trafficked streams harbor some sense of anticipation for the uninitiated. One's mind develops a mental image of what they think the stream looks like, behaves, and fishes. Upon arrival, that image can wildly differ from the litany of fish stories one hear's about a body of water. In my particular case, the perception I had of a wild brown trout stream situated in a highly populated area, far surpassed ten plus years of thinking I knew what to expect.
What I found was a beautiful clear flowing stream encased in several inches of freshly fallen snow. Winter's last gasp fell in the early day's of spring and I wasn't complaining. Expecting early black and brown stones, I found a fairly intense midge hatch. Due to the amount of midges on the water, I thought I was going to have an easy time of it, but the fish did not give in to my presentations nor flies. It took an hour, but I finally saw my first rise form in an area of a run I wasn't looking for one in. A delightful wild brown missed my dry fly and then fell for my dropper on the next cast. She signaled in the beginning of my spring and a burgeoning relationship between the new stream and I.
We can't ask much more than our expectations to be surpassed. Rather than having the run of stream from the get go, I prefer my fishing situations to be more of a challenge. In this particular instance, I now know that this flowing body of water will not be giving up her secrets easily. Our relationship will need to be forged overtime. As the seasons and hatches change, I look forward to getting to know this small stream and either falling short, matching, or exceeding the stories I've heard about her and her trout.