Emily's First Fly Trip
In the event that you are one of the few people who read my Blog you had to know this was coming. Last weekend I took my son on his first fly fishing trip……yep, you guessed it. This weekend was my daughters turn and like the weekend before it was a memory maker. 
My Saturday’s have been the same during these dog days of summer, the coffee pot is on auto start and my truck should be on auto pilot. My theme song is ready to go in my CD player and call of the Clinch is again fresh on my mind. Emily and I made our way to the water this morning to lay claim to my favorite spot. The sky was overcast and the fog seemed especially thick. I tied a #18 olive scud and started this day like the past few weeks, but there was no doubt the fishing was much slower. As with Matthew, my plan for Emily was to hook as many fish as possible and have her reel them in. It took exactly 20 minutes before Emily complained about being cold and retreated to the safety of the bank to defrost. I squared Emily away and resumed my casting and drifting and after an hour of fishing I finally hooked my first trout of the day. I knew it was a nice trout by the way he leapt from the water and ran with the line, but a man’s word is his bond so I called Emily over and handed the rod to her. Just like that, Emily was trying to bring to hand her first trout. What a beautiful fish we caught together. The deep pink stripe running from gill to tail was as bright as an evening sunset. This was a beautiful trout and I was proud that Emily was able to bring him in. 
At around 8:00 my friend Garret found his way to us and we fished together. I had hoped Garret could see the feeding frenzy I had seen a few weeks earlier. While we did see the feeding, they were only moderately interested in our offerings. The fog never lifted as it has in previous outings. Emily reeled in and held several fish this fine morning but it was her comment as we were leaving that has stuck with me. “We are really lucky to live this close to the Great Smoky Mountains, aren’t we daddy?” I had to let her know that the Clinch isn’t part of the Smokies, but my 8 year old daughter’s statement was profound. It validates the efforts I have put into making sure my children are able to enjoy fishing, hiking, and camping in and around these wonderful old mountains that we call home. I hope we are able to enjoy many more trips together and as she grows she will maintain that appreciation for this area and what a blessing it is to be able to call it home.
In the event that you are one of the few people who read my Blog you had to know this was coming. Last weekend I took my son on his first fly fishing trip……yep, you guessed it. This weekend was my daughters turn and like the weekend before it was a memory maker. 
My Saturday’s have been the same during these dog days of summer, the coffee pot is on auto start and my truck should be on auto pilot. My theme song is ready to go in my CD player and call of the Clinch is again fresh on my mind. Emily and I made our way to the water this morning to lay claim to my favorite spot. The sky was overcast and the fog seemed especially thick. I tied a #18 olive scud and started this day like the past few weeks, but there was no doubt the fishing was much slower. As with Matthew, my plan for Emily was to hook as many fish as possible and have her reel them in. It took exactly 20 minutes before Emily complained about being cold and retreated to the safety of the bank to defrost. I squared Emily away and resumed my casting and drifting and after an hour of fishing I finally hooked my first trout of the day. I knew it was a nice trout by the way he leapt from the water and ran with the line, but a man’s word is his bond so I called Emily over and handed the rod to her. Just like that, Emily was trying to bring to hand her first trout. What a beautiful fish we caught together. The deep pink stripe running from gill to tail was as bright as an evening sunset. This was a beautiful trout and I was proud that Emily was able to bring him in. 
At around 8:00 my friend Garret found his way to us and we fished together. I had hoped Garret could see the feeding frenzy I had seen a few weeks earlier. While we did see the feeding, they were only moderately interested in our offerings. The fog never lifted as it has in previous outings. Emily reeled in and held several fish this fine morning but it was her comment as we were leaving that has stuck with me. “We are really lucky to live this close to the Great Smoky Mountains, aren’t we daddy?” I had to let her know that the Clinch isn’t part of the Smokies, but my 8 year old daughter’s statement was profound. It validates the efforts I have put into making sure my children are able to enjoy fishing, hiking, and camping in and around these wonderful old mountains that we call home. I hope we are able to enjoy many more trips together and as she grows she will maintain that appreciation for this area and what a blessing it is to be able to call it home.
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