First and foremost, today is Memorial Day. So let’s thank US warfighters past and present for their efforts to secure the freedoms we all enjoy. Like fly-fishing for carp. Second, Team Trout’s isn’t an official moniker, and in this case it wasn’t the entire staff of Trout’s fly shop either. Nevertheless, business was good. Lastly, skinny refers to water, as in not particularly deep.
In the long-standing quest to get all fly-fishers to quit indicator nymphing (myself included), I dragged Cody “The Kid” Hoeckelberg past the obvious water – you know, the deep holes invariably chock full of fish – and over to a wide swath of river knee high to a Dachshund. In between intermittent cloud cover we made a few casts. But it wasn’t long before Kid Cody was signalling discouragement vis-a-vis calling out for a change in venue.
Patience, young Padawan. Patience.
The skies cleared, and within minutes there was a
golden bonefish Colorado redfish in the net. “It was a clean eat,” Kid Cody exclaimed. “Well of course it was. I saw the fish charge the fly.” Head scratching ensued, so I handed the young buck what might be THE finest carp stick ever created by humankind, the Scott S4S 906/4, and told him to get to work. A lesson on target acquisition and quick trigger pulling later, Junior was hooked up as well.
Like previous successful ventures enveloped in brevity, I then decided to take off. Kid
Rock Cody, however, stuck around after bumping into famed stinky water luminary David “Chiquita Mansuelo Swarthout” Luna. Rumor has it Junior bagged a honker walleye not long after.
Let’s hope it was while sight fishing the thin stuff.
MG signing off (because you’ve probably had too many beers to bother reading this whole post anyway)