Line though is a WF6 Scientific Anglers Mastery in good condition.
When a fish runs into the backing is significantly less. The DT5 with a comfortable amount of backing: so the effective drag The Battenkill'sĬlick/pawl is lighter in action, and the reel just enough larger to fit Good fish as they ran, the reel emptied, and the drag increased due to Is in fact a little small for a DT5 line. The Hardy-made Orvis CFO III was my previous preference, but it A lucky bid onĮbay secured this fine Hardy-made Orvis Battenkill Mk III, which is my Means a dedicated weekend or more which is seldom available.įirst plan was to use a Hardy Viscount 140 for the reel. Or four hours driving, etcetera - but the time itself is constant. The travel time may be by car or on foot. To get to a relatively uncrowded water with decent fishing is a 6 to 8 I've largely given up on trout fishing in Colorado. This broad tail in beautifulĬolors doesn't look like trash to me. Some fisherfolk call the carp a trash fish. Here the overwraps can be seen just below the ferrule, with a carp at For stress testing, we went after some carp ofĨ-10lbs, just to make sure nothing was going to disintegrate. The color didn't match the original wraps, but blends with the These were re-inforced with an overwrap of Gudebrodīrown thread. In the glass in the first section and another Close inspection found a couple of contusions As the trip approached I realized I'd neverĪctually fished the rod. Myself from taking a split cane rod, it was clear I was operating outside theĬonsensus reality anyway. Redington 9' 5wt in seven pieces would have been a more rational choice, Packed only a Fenwick FF75-4 Voyageur, 7.5' for 6wt. There wasn't any dedicated fishing time, but I snuck out early and late whenever possible. Because a river is everything in this life.We took a family holiday with 2 weeks in Scotland. For our lives composed by rivers, because their music is our music, their seasons are our seasons. It is time to leave something for the river. More than the grind of boots through gravel or scrape of boat against boulder. More than just keeping fish wet, or a minimal amount of water moving between parched boulders. More than barbless hooks or banning lead weights and anchors. More than choosing not to fish during spawn when fish are reproducing. More than choosing not to fish during drought when fish have nowhere else to go. More than laying the rod against the tall grass or sagebrush or willows and sitting for an afternoon tossing grasshoppers into a riffle watching trout feed. All of life has become presentation in current. All my life has become currents of water and tides slicing through wind. Fighting against the current I came back. The river carried me away, and I went away. What had been hidden I saw and cast to and stripped and stripped and set. What had been hidden suddenly came alive turning in the current, against the current, with the current, and pulled me with it. It was simply because I held a fly-rod in my hand and the line floated and the fly floated and what had been hidden suddenly rose, breaking the surface and taking the fly. To disembody completely into tired footfalls, heat radiating into more heat, clear blue sky to fall forever outward into the dark matter of space. To embody completely the focus of a predator. To catch over and over and over and over. To fall and accumulate and nurture and flood. To be captured by gravity and collect and descend. To see the repetition of moving water over and over as the repetition of life. To have purpose, to have repetition, to have a container to hold onto and pour into and become lost in. I need most to forget cities, to forget drudgery, to forget self. In October I need most the fall light lingering buttery and heavy and in March the midday sun blazing like fire from banks of snow. I fish all these rivers like my life depends on what can be caught there sometimes my life has depended on what could be caught in these rivers. Rivers that run clear or jade green or pea green or soil brown. Rivers that run gold or red or nearly black at dusk. I guide these rivers and fish these rivers and wander along these rivers and sleep beside these rivers.
Systems and cycles fed by snowmelt and bug hatches, leaf fall and deep freeze. There are rivers in my life, so many rivers.
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