For those who love small streams, wild trout, and life...in their simplest form
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Being faithful, Journals
Keeping a fishing journal is something I have been doing for years. It was started to enable me to look back on previous outings to see how I did. It sort of gave me an idea of what flies worked that day. The streams condition, weather and the fish taken. I was pretty faithful in writing, or should I say just jotting down what happened on each trip. As time went on the entries in the journal began to take a backseat, I would say I'll write in it tomorrow, but that never happened. The journal began to look like this, May 3rd..good conditions..Bomber worked well..a couple brookies. May 29..rained all night..stream high. It was like Swiss cheese full of holes.
So the last few days I have been going through a couple of journals. I found an entry of an outing I made in early Spring. It was to a stream in north east Connecticut. The stream flowed through some of the prettiest countryside one has seen. The lush green banks, towering hemlocks, and briars galore. It twisted and turned over rocks and wood. Its undercuts were deep, and the waters were amber in color. On this day the bomber was the king. It worked its magic and the brook trout it fooled were beautiful.
Reading the entry brought me back there as if it were yesterday. I hope in the new year I will be more faithful in writing down the memories of such days.