Another Great Day on the Clinch

 I have always heard the old saying “if a tree falls in the woods and no one is around does it make a sound?”  Today I asked myself this same sort of question after spending another Saturday on the Clinch.  The truth is that this mornings trip went as well as any trip I have ever had. 

I woke at 5:00 a.m. and with military precision started my day.  My mornings are usually driven by Starbucks and Kashi and this morning would be no exception.  Gear, Coffee, and ceral bar in hand I was out the door by 5:20 and in the parking lot at 6:10.  This fine morning I was going it alone.  My brother-in-law James was back in Richmond, Matt had projects to complete, Garret had business to tend to and my kids were still tucked into bed.  Everyone I fish with had other plans that kept them from the water. 

As the sun forced a few rays of light through the dense fog sitting atop the water I could see the silhouette of a few other fishermen, this day I was part of the “early crowd”.  I waded in eager to see what the day would hold and to claim my prized spot.  The day was overcast and the cool mist of the Clinch lay like a wet blanket on the water most of the morning.  When I reached my fishing spot it was barely light enough to tie a fly on and I could hear the “hoot” of an owl in a near by tree.  The morning started slow and I could see there were two other fishermen a few hundred yards away.  They were close enough to see but with the hypnotic flow of the water and the distance between us I could only pick up every few words of their conversation.  Those words were much easier to understand when they were accompanied by the splashing of a trout as they reeled one in. I thought to myself that it’s nice to have fishing buddies.  Seeing them made me reflect on all of the wonderful fishing trips I had been on in such a short time.

Last year my wife and kids had a remarkable day on the Clinch, good enough in fact that I became almost obsessive about Trout fishing.  It was a special evening indeed.  The backcountry camping trip with Garret in which Garret and James were there when I caught my first Smoky Mountain Rainbow.  The hiking / fishingtrip  Garret and I took to Abrams Creek which I previously posted on, was primarily because of an earlier succussful trip James and had taken to Abrams.  All of these outings share a common thread; all of these trips were shared by friends and family. 

This thought of companionship first came to mind again when the fishing started to heat up. I caught my fifth Brown Trout of the morning and found myself wishing James, Garret, Matt, or the kids were here during such as prolific morning.  I netted a total of 14 rainbows and browns on Saturday, the largest of which was 13.5”.  It was without a doubt my most productive day and a fly fishing dream come true. Yet as enjoyable as it was to catch all of those fish, it was a little less meaningful without having someone to share it with.  If my children had been with me on a day like this it would remain part of Kelly family folk lore for years to come.  Instead, I fished till the water began its swift rise, drove home, and when asked how the fishing was my reply was “it was great.”  That’s really all I could say.  Unless you feel the cold water on your wading socks, the tightening of the fly line in your hand, and hear the splash of a Trout rising to the surface there is no need for any more details. 

The truth is that I don’t care what sounds a tree makes in the forest.  I’ll leave those deep philosophical questions to be answered by folks who do.  If you ask me why I love fly fishing I can tell you it’s the beauty of the cast, finding just the right fly that works, and the places I find myself with my fly rod in hand, but what truly makes fly fishing a passion is the memories I make sharing days like today with the people that I call friends.  Since no one was there to share this memory with me this post is my best attempt of letting all who care know what a wonderful day it was.