Snow is falling, and my thoughts still revolve around angling. Memories come flooding back as I picture the season just past and more than one hundred days upon bright water which I am thankful for.
My angling year began with Flyfest, as tyers gathered once more in Roscoe to celebrate the winter season. We had a fine turnout, a rush on a wonderful store of Charlie Collins’ dry fly hackle, and a great day which ended far too soon. Two days later I was wading the river and swinging a fly on a 58 degree afternoon. I witnessed a few of winter’s early stoneflies hatching and fluttering, and even a couple of honest rises to them. With my seven-weight rod and intermediate line there was little I could do about that.
By mid-March there were signs of an early spring, including the first sighting of a few suspected Quill Gordons. Alas, it was not to be, though I wandered the Beaver Kill once my countdown came round to zero. Fits and starts, typical once spring comes to flirt with the Catskills, shadowed me until the third week of April. I launched the drift boat in the high cold waters and rowed, finding a lone reach of riverbank where the Hendricksons held court, and four fine brown trout paid me a visit.
As April waned warm air and low water became the rule. Within a week’s time I thrilled to epic battles with a pair of 25″ browns: the first a bright morning’s surprise and the second a hard-won triumph with a classic old Leonard rod that shared my age. Both encounters were electric moments for which I am ever grateful, particularly in the midst of a difficult spring!
And then there was summer…
I am thankful for the misty mornings stalking low water, the black bear that added a new type of excitement to my summertime dawn patrols, and all of those epic trout which took me from elation to frustration and back!
I am thankful for the joy of the gatherings with my friends of the Catskill Guild, sharing thoughts and patterns through my column in the Guild’s Gazette and through this blog.
There are fond memories of a couple specific flights of inspiration at the vise this year, new patterns I still hold close, and the wondrous trout they seduced! There will be some new things to share through the winter months.
Lastly, I am thankful to still breathe the fresh mountain air, gaze at the light upon the water throughout the seasons, and to spend my retirement with my best girl, here on the doorstep to the rivers of my heart.
Bright Waters Catskill 