Saturday, November 8, 2008

Fall Floats Volume II

This is a natural shot you don't see very often in the magazines. Starkey is bending over the gunwale all set for the standard grip and grin shot, and Mr. Wiggly jumps out his hands. Imagine a brightly colored Brown Trout. If the conversation is twisted with three All Pro trash talkers, then it goes to reason it is more warped with four. If the wind didn't come up we were online for an epic day of catching. The term "fly flinging" was spot-on for a good bit of our float. I'm talking about fly and fly line getting blown straight backwards. Chuck and duck.
Here's a picture of the boys getting their pirate on in the beaches before the canyon. Luke is holding a bazooka, and Fisher is holding a kayak paddle that turned into a spear. I had been telling the boys about the pair of Cottonwoods behind them for a week or so. They were the last trees to drop their leaves. Ray Charles can see they're in love. They remind me of the picture of the old truck and car on the cover of John Prine's "In Spite of Ourselves".

No doubt this isn't the biggest fish in the river, but it is one of my Fall favorites. He was cozied up in about two feet of water downstream of a big rock in the shade of a 200 ft. red wall a couple of hours below State Bridge. I drive past this wall all the time on my way South. I had went to the vise the night before, and tied up some ginger buggers with brown rubber legs for the occasion of an all day float with the good folks from Fly Fishing Outfitters in Avon. Ginger hit the water, and about the time I got the handle on my line he blew up like a flourescent light bulb being thrown in a dempstey dumpster.

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