Here We Go Again

The weekend couldn't get here fast enough. Having been grounded by Mother Nature for three weeks, I had a score to settle with a creek that was none too kind to me (or my vehicle). The beautiful weather of the previous three days had me restless...eager. It was Spring Fever on steroids. Here we go again!

Saturday I fished all day, in between raindrops. Went to a really popular spot and was surprised to see nobody there. So I strung up the rod and trounced on down. Three casts into it, I cast the 4-wt into a dark, murky abyss. As my fly line drifted lazily to the bank at my feet, I was alarmed as it suddenly darted back into the center of the stream. I quickly lifted the rod.

FISH ON! Monster fish. Bohemeth fish. Troutzilla!! One leap...Two leaps...Three leaps. Holy guano! I've never caught a fish this large before! He made a huge run to the opposite bank, turned, and came straight to me. I thought I was about to have my first "Had me into my backing experience." He nearly made it to shore, bolted for the center once more, and with a final leap, "TINK." Snapped my leader.

I stood there, incredulous. I went through the laundry list of things I did wrong: Too much line, not enough line. Fought too hard too soon. Didn't give him line when he jumped. Muscled him when I should've played him. Reached for the camera when I should've had both hands on the rod.

Then I stood there, ANGRY, piercing the quiet forest with "ARRRGH! You dummy!" (Okay, I didn't use the word "dummy," but there are women and children on this board).

Fished the remainder of the day with no success. Decided to head back to the truck and go back to that first spot. Fished my way out of the creek. Turned to leave. Slip...slip...Fred Flintstone...SPLASH! Here we go again! (Parenthetical: Yes, I have the screws to put in my boots. No, I have not done it yet. Ergo, yes, I am a moron.)

Trudged up the hill to the road. My wrist was throbbing. I must've landed on it. At that moment, Dad was pulling up to park. "You wanna ride?" "No...I'm wet. I just fell in." "Here we go again!"

Went back to camp, parked the truck. Called a couple guys to find out if OC was still a go. The wife called...forecast was lousy so I decided to forego the trip. I told her about my day. "Well, for God's sake don't go fishing tomorrow!" She had a good point. 30-some years of fishing and I'd never fallen in the creek. Now I'd done it on two consecutive Saturday outings. I've never been one for superstitions, but I thought it best to not tempt the fates. Didn't need another tree to fall in the forest.

I sat at the kitchen table this morning, gazing out the window at a gray, gloomy sky, pining for another chance at "Murph." I've never named a fish before...seems rather "On Golden Pond"-ish. My wife came downstairs and asked, "Whatcha thinking?" I made a "ten and two" gesture with my arm.

"Oh God!" she groaned, "Here we go again!"

Syd ...sorry about your luck...but now you really can talk about the one that got away..lol
O...ya...carry spare cloths..haha

ok syd how big was it ? was it a trout ?

Still to cold to be swimming yet Danny.

One good thing getting all that bad Mojo used up in a couple trips you should be golden for the rest of the year.

I know when I was having my string of bad luck it sucked, I almost sent Dr Trout a PM to ask him to please quit puttin pins in his Bing voodoo doll.

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