I wanted to be sure that all of the Louts knew how much I appreciated the opportunity to fish, dine, drink (a little) laugh, and join the group. Thanks to Brian for remembering his “old” teacher and thinking about me when an opening arose. You are an interesting, amazing, diverse group that really knows how to fish, have a great time, bust chops and during the four days I spent with you I only thought about work and my other responsibilities for a fleeting moment! I look forward to spending time with you guys in the future. Keep me in mind for almost any trip you are planning or if you need someone to round out a group, even at the last minute. My schedule is fairly flexable. Tight lines and if the picture Brian took of me and the brown that he took, (dare I say,) on a nymph, I promise I’ll write something on my thoughts on that fish. Thanks again for a memorable trip!
Brian Cowden said:
June 21st, 2007 at 9:36 am
Let’s see…I seem to remember a rather enormous chub caught a little later that same day by Lout Glenn. Since the chub was so large, only this brownie can negate him, the other dinks you caught cannot wipe out such a large trash fish which leaves you with zero credit for this fish (especially since it was on a nymph).
gkamp said:
June 22nd, 2007 at 8:12 am
I was afraid you were going to remember that other fish- what do you call it again?
Actually, on this trip, I made the biggest mistake any fisher can make, and paid dearly! I have fished the WB a few times and certainly know its reputation - that it humbles even the most skillful angler. On the day I arrived I threw my stuff on my bed, pulled on my waders, grabbed a rod and went down to the river. I quickly established that no fish were rising so I added a dropper to a dry. I thought this was an acceptable practice because of an e-mail I had read, but had not had a chance to see the follow up banter.
Back to the story: I stepped into the WB at an open spot and within a few drifts hooked and lost (I was looking at Rt.17 for some reason) a nice brown that jumped out of the water when he felt the steel of my dropper. Two drifts later I caught the fine WB brown which Brian photographed for me. I caught a smaller brown within a few more minutes and then that other fish Brian keeps referring to. Then I made the mistake - I said to myself, thank goodness to no one else, I think I have this river figured out. When no fish are rising I’ll fish a dropper and when they do come up I know I can catch fish on the top; I do that all the time. As you know by now, except for a sweet, jumping, silvery rainbow that I had on for a few minutes that same evening (I still was thinking at that point that I had the WB’s number) I hooked nary a fish the next 2 1/2 days. I’ll admit to all now that on Sat. pm, on the way home, I stopped at a few places on the Beaverkill and caught some stockies- certainly not the same.
I will never again, I hope, think I have a river figured out! Can you imagine if I had actually said that out loud? I likely would have been struck by lightening at the end of our float. Tight lines, see you soon.
Bob Sutton said:
June 22nd, 2007 at 3:41 pm
I don’t know about lightning, Glenn, but I’m pretty sure you’d have come up on Doc’s radar and the only thing that diverts him when he’s on-scent is exceptional grandiloquence or very old, very precious whisky.
Fee, Fie, Foe, Fum,
I smells the blood of an Englishman!
Be he alive or be he dead,
I’ll grind his bones to make my bread!
Bob
Brian Cowden said:
June 25th, 2007 at 7:56 pm
I’ve never met a tougher river than the West Branch. Some days- too few and far too far between- she’s a fair maiden offering herself up to you willingly. The next day while you are standing tall in apparent triumph, she walks up and unexpectedly kicks you square in the balls. We somehow convieniently forget the latter whilst clinging to the former…