Saturday was opening day for Amish Trout Season... A holiday for trout-a-holics across the globe. And after one of the mildest winters and early springs, It came as no surprise that opening day we had a mix of snow and rain. So, since I emptied half my boxes for Miller's trip to his cabin on the PM, I talked Carter (my youngest) into making Saturday a tying day, and hitting the river on Sunday.
My companions where some of my favorites... My three boys. I decided to take them in at Spring Street access. To my amazement, there were no cars parked there. We ran into @rassler walking down the trail on our way to the walking bridge. He was done for the day and had beaten the waters we were about to fish, and done well.
I set my oldest, Kade, up on the lower run. He said "Dad, I may be a little rusty." But, after a perfect second cast, his line tightened to a spunky rainbow. His smile was ear to ear... And so was mine. I got the other two settled and watch my boys with pride. Soon Quinn had a hookup... A chub, and then Carter brought a rainbow to hand. Fish after fish, we all had a blast. Carter got tangled up, so I got him squared away and glanced into the hole he was fishing. Trout were moving in and out, from one run to the next. I saw a gold flash near the front of the hole and upon further inspection discovered the flash was a huge brown trout, with a lamprey attached to it. I pointed it out to Cart and he said "Get it! Dad!"
I cast his line to the top of the run and let the current take the flies to the depths of the hole, right in front of the golden beast. I will admit that I was shocked to see the fish move over and take my small nymph... GAME ON! By now the other two boys had gathered and where hooting and hollering like we were at a football game. I fought the fish for several minutes, being very carful not to horse him and break him off. I brought him to my feet and Carter reached for my net, when the pig decided to give it one more fight, shook it's head and POOF he was gone...
I was shocked. I stood there and looked at the boys smiling. After retrieving my flies, I saw that the trout had straightened the hook. A moral victory if nothing else.
We fished a few more spots, enjoyed a shore lunch together, and headed home.
Another priceless memory.
As for the big brown... I shall return to fight again...