Yeah, I've been fishing. For skunk.

I've been insanely busy with family, work, TU . And some other things non-fishing related. But I have been fishing.

Two weeks. Two trips. Five hours of fishing. Three flies lost. One hipper boot punctured. Zero fish landed.

This all started two weeks ago with a hike (fisherman know it as a scouting trip) with my beloved spouse. That hike allowed me to admire some low water, take some photographs, and actually see trout scurrying for the little cover that was present. Which planted the seed for a fishing trip.

Low Flow. Bones of the River.

Fast forward to a week or so ago. Rains put water into the rivers and the siren's song of water running over rocks called. Out I went. The water was still a bit high and stained but I just couldn't resist. Large, flashy flies were the order of the day. No strikes were to be had on the dry but a dropper managed a few tugs on the line just not enough of a tug to get something to the net. Not the desired outcome but it was a joy to be standing in moving water again.

Same spot after two days of rain.

This past weekend I fished the lower Trout Management Area on the Housy. I've fished that water once before and didn't see, hear, or smell a trout much less catch one. Sunday evening was a repeat of that feat. I know the water is well stocked but based upon the stream-side detritus it also appears well poached. That, combined with the low water, probably has led to the paucity of fish. That or just a plain lack of skill and/or luck.

Pretty River. If only there were trout.

Regardless, it was nice to be on the water with a cigar and a flask of scotch. Really pretty evening. The bonus was seeing water surging along the stream bed after a summer of trickles.

Do these waders make me look fat?