The news wasn’t good this morning: a new winter storm barreling across the country with rain and snow for the northeast before the trailing effects of the big chill. In short, we could be looking at another Christmas flood for the Catskills. It seems that storm is expected to sweep up a patch of warm air on it’s way bringing rain and 52 degrees to us Friday before temperatures plummet. That 52-degree high is to be followed by a 9 degree overnight low. Of course, there is nothing any of us can do about the weather, other than hope the cold comes early enough to limit the snowmelt the rain will bring to these mountains.
Cold is well seated here for the moment, with a cloudy 29 degrees around Noon as I took my river walk. The East Branch Delaware runs free, with a balmy 35-degree water temperature at Fish’s Eddy. Last week’s storm system had it down very near the freezing mark overnight. Should we escape another flood, and temperatures moderate, I would love to get out for a walk in the river, a last goodbye to the year with fly rod in hand.
The Solstice brings to mind the winter fishing that was once a regular occurrence. The last foray of substance proved unforgettable, both for the trout landed and the belief that the day could easily have qualified as the beginning of the end. It was a cold day in March nearly eight years past, and early in the decline of the wild rainbow fishery there at Big Spring. My friend Andy and I rigged our Granger bamboo fly rods with long, fine leaders and 6X tippets, hoping for a handful of little blue-winged olives, and the chance at a rising trout.
I led Andy to a reach above the Willow lot where we began our reconnaissance from the streambank. The wild rainbows would lie in the open pockets of bright gravel, close to the edges of the larger weed beds. We were fortunate, and a few olives began to hatch on the surface, bringing a few good trout up with them. We took turns working the risers we found, and I connected on a long cast with a dainty size 20 CDC dun. Andy brought his phone into play and collected video footage of the fight and landing of a fat twenty-inch bow! The excitement of battling that heavy fish raised my heart rate, for keeping a raging fireball of a trout out of all of those weeds and deadfalls on 6X tippet is heady work. The recently experienced burning sensation centered near my Adam’s Apple came upon me with a vengeance – angina, though I was yet to know it’s name and grim portent.
A short time after that eventful day astream, I found myself confined to a hospital cardiac ward. When spring arrived, I was rehabbing and, once my surgeon cleared me to lift the massive weight of twenty pounds, very gently wading the Catskill rivers closest to my rescued heart.
That day, and the events which followed began a new course for my life. I positioned myself for retirement, determined to take the best that life offered for whatever time remained to me. To me, there is nothing better than a fine wand of split bamboo, bright waters, wild trout and the dry fly!
I think often of that chilly, overcast March afternoon, giving thanks that it was not my last day beside bright water. Verily it was the last truly special day of winter dry fly fishing that I was to enjoy, my last chapter of life along the legendary Pennsylvania limestone springs!
Bright Waters Catskill 