Seventy-one degrees yesterday, as I turned the car north along NY Route 8; a last taste of Catskill Summer? We were headed to Earleville, NY and it’s historic Opera House to see our friend Nate Gross and his band release their new album of rockin’ blues “Ride With The Devil”. The sunshine lit up the remaining colors on the mountainsides and got me to thinking of the hidden promise of the next few days.
The forecasters tell us the temperatures will climb through mid-week before dropping more than twenty degrees on Thursday, wiping away the last euphoria of summer in one swift stroke. The angler in me retains just a bit of hope that this last burst of seventy-degree sunshine might convince a few mayflies to take wing, and those trout not yet occupied with spawning to rise to Nature’s last banquet of the season.
I walked the river on Wednesday afternoon, feeling the chill of the water penetrate every layer I had donned despite the sunshine. When the sun topped the ridgeline and allowed the shade to take rapid possession of the pool I shivered. I did at least see a rise, though nothing sustained, nothing in range of a cast. In my heart, I had already surrendered to the inevitability of winter.
The high release levels on the Delaware tailwaters have finally begun to decline, though not by enough to warm the waters downstream. Trout remain unlikely to rise with water temperatures in the forties and very small hatches of flies. Our freestone streams should be spared the intrusion of anglers now. It is spawning time, and they remain pitifully low. My hope now is that we will have plentiful rains before we have freezing temperatures, for anchor ice takes no prisoners.
The long-term discussion speaks of a La Nina winter, wetter than normal for the Northeastern states. I hope this comes to pass, and though shoveling snow is not high on my activity list, I hope our mountains enter spring with a good snowpack.
I know full well it may be six months before I tighten into a soft riseform and feel that magnificent throb of life in a full arc of split bamboo. I am thankful that my ears will have the music of Nate’s guitar to replace the special tones of a vintage Hardy reel and a large, wild Catskill trout streaking for the horizon. Nate’s blues will help me find my way to springtime. http://www.musicbynategross.com
Bright Waters Catskill 