July

Ah July! For many of my travelling years it marked the grand finale of my Catskill fishing season: the scenery and experiences, the ubiquitous West Branch sulfur hatch, and quiet times at West Branch Angler provided a glimpse of just how perfect life could be. Certainly, the fishing was challenging, but it was that challenge that lured me to the Catskills.

I remember sitting alone in the Troutskellar come evening, sipping a wee dram of Macallan after a long day of chasing wild trout, ending in a fiery sunset. The bustle and noise of spring lay behind, and it was time to reflect and appreciate the gifts of another season. Those emotions still surface at this turn of the calendar, though my season ends now in October.

I have been fishing summer patterns now since mid-June, so I have adjusted early to summer’s slower pace. The early beginning has left we wanting for the brightness of those fair yellow mayflies, and the supreme challenge of fishing to evolved wild brownies sipping amid their multitudes. July is here at last though, can the sulfurs be far behind?

The right fly this past week seems to have been the Isonychia, though I have not seen enough of them to capture and identify even one. My 100-Year Dun duped most of the trout I led into the net though.

There are new variations of sulfurs this summer, as well as a good stock of the reliable patterns from last year. I should count the twenties though, just to be sure they are fully represented in my boxes.

It is time to hang up my faithful fishing vest, to remove the fly boxes and re-sort the flies of the season into a pair of boxes that will nestle in my small chest pack. I always feel under gunned upon that transition. There is after all some psychological comfort to be taken from a vest full of flies to match all comers. Nature does visit little surprises upon Catskill anglers! There is always room for a stopgap, an extra box tucked into a shirt pocket, just in case.

That process of downsizing to lighter rods and fewer flies has the melancholy flavor of goodbye, a farewell to another marvelous spring, but it has another familiar flavor too. Catskill trophies are always hard won, and summer has provided a full share, so there is the taste of satisfaction to be savored.

The morning rain seems to have quieted now, though I hoped it would continue. The trout respond when the rivers are freshened. Perhaps the changing conditions keep them alert; so too the angler.