Temporary reprieve

So I admit that since my burgeoning steelhead obsession is slowly taking over my flyfishing life (which is a very large part of my overall life!)  I have spent less and less time plying the waters of my home state for resident trout.  Last week I decided it was time to rectify the situation, as short-lived as it may be.  Never the less I managed to get out for an afternoon/evening of what I cut my flyfishing teeth on, trout fishing in Montana.

Just as I suspected.  I missed the intimacy that comes with fishing for trout in smaller waters.... waters that are easily read and dissected-no guesswork here.  No surprises, just straight forward trout fishing.  I spent the first part of my trip just observing, looking for rising fish to cast to.  Other than a couple of tiny fish smacking caddis emergers I didn't see much surface activity.  So as the sun dipped behind the ridge I decided to try an old standby of a fly and hit a favorite run.  It wasn't long before I was rewarded with an ambitious take as my muddler skated along the foam line on the far bank, soon I brought the scrappy 12 incher to hand.

 

At that moment I realized what I had been neglecting and missing out on.  I realized that regardless of the amount of difference between this and chasing steel, they were both fun....not only fun but I'll stop just short of saying they're both necessary for me.....

With balance brought back into my life i let the fish slip back into the stream while my thoughts already  began drifting downstream like the yellow cottonwood leaf floating by, downstream to where steel lurks and I once again feel the inexplicable tug in the bottom of my gut.  The obsession grows...