I have yet to figure out exactly what physiological process accounts for a sudden eruption of high fives, hopping, and congratulatory verbosity upon the catching and netting of a fish….but I think it must be closely related to what football players experience. It looks an awful lot like an touchdown jig. Unfortunately, as silly as it looks in a stadium filled to capacity, it appears totally and completely misplaced in the wild. My apologies to those who might have caught a glimpse of our triad “touchdowning” on the water. It is not a professional tactic. But, as far as dancers go, I have to say…we have some pretty mad skills.
Sometimes you may find yourself in a position in which your counterpart has selected an adventure that is not designed specifically for the stalking of trout. It is important for those of us that have tendencies towards casting obsession to engage in alternate activities so that we may maintain a “broader perspective”. The forest through the trees, if you will. I see the forest today by bicycle as we hurdle through the the wildflowers and the birdsong of Pondicherry. Admittedly, I do sneak some flies, a rod, and a reel onto my pack fully aware that where there are forests and trees…so is there water. To fish.
Translation; “how did you become so tragically uncool?”
I do live under a virtual rock. We don’t have television, we live in the woods, and I am generally without a clue when it comes to where popular culture has meandered in the past 10 years. And I am not embarrassed or in the least apologetic…I find myself in good company. Look who else “lives under a rock somewhere”-
I have been on the prowl to replace the YELLOW cone head zuddler that rewarded me with beautiful, large brookies while wade fishing on Profile Lake earlier in the season.
Amazingly, finding one in YELLOW within the vicinity of North America has proven challenging. After much research, I was entirely pleased to find a stash of them at a fly shop in neighboring Maine. I pulled the trigger without pause, firing off my PayPal info while half distracted by hallucinatory visions of these YELLOW zuddlers coaxing more trout out of the lake come fall.
I slept well after receiving my order confirmation. My small army of zuddlers were to be lovingly packed and shipped to me within 24 hours. I awoke to the following news…
“Thank you for your on-line order of the 3 Yellow Zuddlers.
When our last order arrived here the Yellow Zuddlers have been put on back order and I can’t say exactly when they will arrive here.
I can hold your order until they arrive and ship them then or refund your PayPal payment back to your PayPal account.
Sorry for the inconvenience,
And the search continues. I have decided that if I am not able to secure shipment by mid August, I will be forced to
A. Learn how to tie the fly
B. Learn how to dye the fly. There are plenty if white ones around.
High summer water gets oxygen flowing on the Connecticut. Saw lots of fish feeding in eddies and current lines. But…still STEAMY out there.
One last drift before lugging kayaks up the horribly steep side of the Columbia covered bridge.