[This is the third in a series of posts about somewhat unconventional advice for becoming a better angler. It’s not tips, tricks or tactics, as such, but suggestions for becoming an overall better angler that you might not otherwise think of.]
I fished a favourite small stream recently.
It was a beatutiful day, the sun was shining and the fish, seemingly, had taken the day off. Normally, I can tie on an elk harris caddis and pull in a fish every few casts on this stream, especially when the weather is nice and the sun is out. As you an imagine, I was a little confused.
Then, as I was walking along the to next run, I saw a stonefly nymph husk on the a rock near the water’s edge. Then I saw another one.
I had a run of lousy luck this summer. I’d planned out some trips to a couple of lakes that caught my eye in the mapbook and, when the time came to get out there and actually explore the lake, things didn’t quite go as they should have.
It’s not surprising, really. Well, it shouldn’t be, anyway. It’s pretty easy to get everything all figured out on paper, but when you’re actually on the ground and facing the reality of terrain, it can often be something very different from what you expected.
Sometimes, a road isn’t a road at all, it’s more of a trail. Sometimes it’s barely even a trail.
That’s exactly what happened to me not once, but three times.
In a row.
I tend to spend a lot of my time fishing lakes. Not by choice, necessarily. I do this more because I live close to what is basically a stillwater hotspot. There are more lakes around here than rivers and, frankly, any rivers that are close by, are still pretty far away. I can hit at least six decent lakes before I even get close to a river.
This isn’t a bad thing, as such, but as it happens, my heart lies with river fishing. I find it more interesting in just about every way and it’s way more technical than most lakes.
Problem is, I have a lot to learn about fishing rivers.