A new stream, and having to work.

Thanks to the kindness of fellow angler and friend John, aka "Apache Trout" I was told of a stream that he had fished. It was a place of wild brookies, a place of beauty and solitude. Yesterday Kirk and I paid a visit to this piece of paradise. The sun had just started to break the surface as we arrived. The air was clear and cold. There had been a frost the night before and the flowers and grass at our feet were covered in an icy coating, looking like silver crystals as the light broke onto them.

We geared up and made our way to the stream. We were told of a way to find the stream, but all that was needed was a good ear for the waters sound would direct you. The stream was in prime shape. It was made up of long and deep pools, with sections of fast riffles. It was in one of these deep pools that I was to get in a bit to far and paid the price of getting both boots filled with cold water.

The sun as it broke through the trees gave a warming feel to the water soaked angler still trying to catch a fish. That fish was to come soon. A very small brookie took the fly in a little riffle.

I worked upstream and fished many parts of the stream. I knew these were prime areas, but the hits never came. Kirk had went downstream and had fared better with his hookup rate.

It was at the tail of this set of riffles that I had a good hit and hookup. It was here I brought the brookie to hand. Taking his photo I realized I didn't feel cold any more.

There are days when they don't come easy. When you have to really work for that wild reward. Well worth the effort.

While driving home the chills set into my body. I got home and went into the hot shower, an act I was to preform several times that afternoon. With the aid of some homemade chicken soup, and the healing rays of the sun I should be OK.

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