10-25-2010, 01:09 AM
There are many more pics that accompany this report. You will find them on The Average Joe Fisherman blog.
“Someone’s watching me” I thought to myself. I could feel it, feel it just like I could feel the ultra-light spinning rod in my hand. Someone’s eyes were upon me, I was certain of it.
This past Saturday I had no intention of pursuing trout. The day in my mind was destined to be one of cozy sweatpants, movies, munchies and a warm fire in the fireplace. A real honest to goodness veg-out day and I was excited about it. The most energy I was planning on exerting was possibly playing the Wii with my daughter while my family and I relaxed. The day took an abrupt U-turn when my wife said, “Hey Ry, Morgan and I are going to be gone for a few hours, why don’t you go fishing?” The choice was easy. If I could not relax with my family, then I was going to relax chasing trout. Funny how quickly things change.
While driving north, I considered my stream choices and came to the realization that I might not be able to find a stretch of stream that wasn’t already occupied. It was Saturday after all and there are very few streams that were still open. With a couple of possibilities rolling around in my head, I arrived at my first stop and to my surprise found no other cars. That worked for me. I walked around the back of truck and started to set out my gear. Within seconds of my boots hitting the ground a new Chevy Avalanche pulled in. The gentleman and I exchanged pleasantries, talked trout, and then parted ways. It would be he that was searching for a spot today, not me.
Interested in doing something different, I busted brush downstream in order to fish back to the truck and then continue upstream. After a short walk, I came to a large tree with a bright orange sign that said “No Trespassing!” Unable to go any farther, like the sign was kryptonite to Superman, I stepped into the stream. The very first cast brought a beautiful brown trout to hand. The second cast, placed a little further upstream, fooled a second brown trout. “Two for two, this day has some possibilities!” I thought to myself. The fish back to the truck was a short one. Within the fifteen minutes or so, I caught several trout and saw one large brown swimming upstream that passed me by. As I passed the truck and continued fishing, the feeling of the day changed. While the fishing was easy, the catching became much more difficult. The trout, no longer willing to chase, held tight to the cover and were unconvinced to open their mouths by even the best placed cast. The further upstream I traveled the more I became convinced that the stream had recently been fished.
Then the feeling was upon me. I was not alone. Standing as still as possible in the middle of the stream, I listened. Slowing my breathing and closing my eyes, I listened. Was that a sound? The distant snapping of a twig? There it was again. Someone was walking. I could hear each step; the crumpling of the leaves, the moving of the brush. The steps were getting closer. Finally, able to tell the direction the intruder was coming from, I stared. Then… silence. “Someone’s watching me” I thought to myself. I could feel it, feel it just like I could feel the ultra-light spinning rod in my hand. Someone’s eyes were upon me, I was certain of it.
After what felt like an eternity, the brush along the river bank, not more than thirty yards from me, parted. Moving as slow as possible, I reached into by vest pocket, pulled out my camera and took this picture…
![[Image: Oct6.jpg]](http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_8B9d3iOyz1E/TMDmQM1DrcI/AAAAAAAAAd0/HpEKO_rrraU/s1600/Oct6.jpg)
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“Someone’s watching me” I thought to myself. I could feel it, feel it just like I could feel the ultra-light spinning rod in my hand. Someone’s eyes were upon me, I was certain of it.
This past Saturday I had no intention of pursuing trout. The day in my mind was destined to be one of cozy sweatpants, movies, munchies and a warm fire in the fireplace. A real honest to goodness veg-out day and I was excited about it. The most energy I was planning on exerting was possibly playing the Wii with my daughter while my family and I relaxed. The day took an abrupt U-turn when my wife said, “Hey Ry, Morgan and I are going to be gone for a few hours, why don’t you go fishing?” The choice was easy. If I could not relax with my family, then I was going to relax chasing trout. Funny how quickly things change.
While driving north, I considered my stream choices and came to the realization that I might not be able to find a stretch of stream that wasn’t already occupied. It was Saturday after all and there are very few streams that were still open. With a couple of possibilities rolling around in my head, I arrived at my first stop and to my surprise found no other cars. That worked for me. I walked around the back of truck and started to set out my gear. Within seconds of my boots hitting the ground a new Chevy Avalanche pulled in. The gentleman and I exchanged pleasantries, talked trout, and then parted ways. It would be he that was searching for a spot today, not me.
Interested in doing something different, I busted brush downstream in order to fish back to the truck and then continue upstream. After a short walk, I came to a large tree with a bright orange sign that said “No Trespassing!” Unable to go any farther, like the sign was kryptonite to Superman, I stepped into the stream. The very first cast brought a beautiful brown trout to hand. The second cast, placed a little further upstream, fooled a second brown trout. “Two for two, this day has some possibilities!” I thought to myself. The fish back to the truck was a short one. Within the fifteen minutes or so, I caught several trout and saw one large brown swimming upstream that passed me by. As I passed the truck and continued fishing, the feeling of the day changed. While the fishing was easy, the catching became much more difficult. The trout, no longer willing to chase, held tight to the cover and were unconvinced to open their mouths by even the best placed cast. The further upstream I traveled the more I became convinced that the stream had recently been fished.
Then the feeling was upon me. I was not alone. Standing as still as possible in the middle of the stream, I listened. Slowing my breathing and closing my eyes, I listened. Was that a sound? The distant snapping of a twig? There it was again. Someone was walking. I could hear each step; the crumpling of the leaves, the moving of the brush. The steps were getting closer. Finally, able to tell the direction the intruder was coming from, I stared. Then… silence. “Someone’s watching me” I thought to myself. I could feel it, feel it just like I could feel the ultra-light spinning rod in my hand. Someone’s eyes were upon me, I was certain of it.
After what felt like an eternity, the brush along the river bank, not more than thirty yards from me, parted. Moving as slow as possible, I reached into by vest pocket, pulled out my camera and took this picture…
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