After the short drive to what I thought would be the best stretch of winter water, we turned off the highway and SON....OF......A.......BITCH, there it was, smack dab in the middle of the small parking area, another truck. Oh well, who could blame the guy, the temperature did read 57 at the bank in town. Luckily our second choice was not far away and vacant as well.
The weather certainly cooperated.
As we hurriedly rigged rods and wadered up, I even let myself hope for the possibility of rising fish. After a frantic few minutes of scanning the water I resigned myself to the fact that any fish caught this day would almost certainly be caught dredging.
As confirmed dry fly
I started off with a beadhead king prince nymph/pheasant tail combo, switched to a beadhead stone/san juan worm and continued through the detritus that is my nymph box, all to no avail. (did I mention my home waters is a fickle mistress in the winter?)
Marshall on the other hand was into a fish by the second hole.
Apparently the fish was shy and knew I had my camera because it managed to spit the hook. Home waters in the winter-1, the dude's son-0.
Undeterred, Marshall continued fishing behind me and was soon into another fish (at least I can say I taught him the majority of what he knows, although there's sparse comfort in that).
Home waters-1, Marshall-1
well, sort of.....
It was one of the biggest whitefish I've seen caught, pushing 18' and plump. Nice job Marshall!!
All in all it was great to be on the water, even greater being able to spend part of a day with my son on the water and greater yet that he outfished me!