Time to sit back, drink a beer, take some ibuprofen and enjoy some good old fashioned silence once the kids go to bed. Not every Sunday brings out enough to fill a post, but I stumbled upon more of Mother Nature's freak show this weekend and had to share. I also had the privilege of catching a few of the crowned jewel of the water.
The brook trout.
There are some fishermen who don't like them because they aren't really trout (they are actually Arctic Char), or they believe that Brookies will eat anything and therefore aren't a challenge to catch.
Haters gonna hate, what can I say?
As for me, I love em'. Catching Brookies is the icing on my cake. They are generally found in clean water, and they are much more beautiful than they actually need to be.
|Little fish, big color|
|Me? I'll take the solitude of a stream that isn't even on the radar|
(Here is a dead giveaway that I'm not catching anything: I can be found standing in the middle of the stream, pulling up rocks to see what is underneath...)
Then...wait...what was that? Could it be? A rise? Oh Hell yeah.... I see the bugs coming off, and I have just the ticket. Bellybutton lint. A near perfect match. I tie one on, make my cast, and "BANG!" I'm into a fish.
|Hornyhead Chub. Ugly as sin, but at least I caught something|
|Icheumonoid Wasp. On the scale of "what the hell is THAT?" this one ranks a solid 8|
That's all for now...