March 1, 50 degrees, no wind to speak of and a brand spankin new fishin license in hand to boot, well hell I'm outta here...gone fishin that is. And wonders of wonders upon arriving at my predetermined spot not another angler in sight...how good is that? Well pretty damn good actually as 2nd or 3rd cast and I'm already hooked tight to what eventually turns out a fat ol' brown trout...not so long, maybe 16-inches but unlike the snaky lookin brown the Ruby gave up the other day this sucker is fat, maybe not high-summer fat but fat enough. Better still unlike his skinny, roll over play dead cousin this one is a real scrapper...
For the next half hour or so hits are fast and furious, alas actual hook-ups are not. Blame it on reactions too long allowed to lay dormant or more likely just another painful reminder Chuck my man you just ain't gettin no younger...blame it on whatever but I just can't seem to get a good hook-set to save my sorry butt.
But like most slumps this one finally ends but...But the trout, another fat brown, is indeed foul hooked--caught by the tail I have a helluva time hauling it close enough to net and then...and then I miss. When seconds later the hook pulls out I almost feel like cheering...really.
Now it is going on 4 p.m. and the shut down is like flipping switch. Not a single bite mind you in the next three runs...Time a call it quits.
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