Favorite Part of the Catch!

its virtually impossible to seperate the moments, but ill try...

seeing the big brown in the shallow pool looking up, eyeballing my fly.

watching the take...waiting for the right moment to lift my rod tip.

feeling the pressure, hoping the tippet holds, and playing the fish.

waking up in the morning and tying "just a few more", knowing ill be on the water in an hour or two.

teaching someone new, and watching them land their first take.

so many wonderful aspects of this sport, i think it must be the combination and anticipation that keeps me coming back...

[fcch]

Tyflier,

teaching someone new, and watching them land their first take

Oh ya, that is something, ... or help an "old timer" catch again. ...

A few years ago I arrived mid morning on the #8 on my homewaters to go after some juvenile sea run brooks. As I pulled in a couple of older gentle men were coming off the beach.

I asked them if the morning was good to them. They replied that they had fished there years ago, but haven't gotten one in a couple season recently.

I explained that the since a flood in '96, the pool had changed and that the trout held on the other side. I offered to ferry them across in a canoe I stashed near by.

One of the fellows took the offer and crossed over with me. I changed his fly and lengthened his leader ... On his very first cast he connected to a nice 12 inch brook. He had a smile brighter than a 5 yr old on Christmas day. In 20 minutes he got 2 more and called it a day.

I've run into the two off and on ever since and they still talk about that first day we met on the river.

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Christopher Chin
Jonquiere Quebec


[This message has been edited by fcch (edited 18 February 2005).]

[This message has been edited by fcch (edited 18 February 2005).]

[jeff98390j]

What brings me back? Well, for me it is the anticipation the day before as I get all my gear together. No, it is the anxious drive to the river as I jam to my favorite mix CD at full blast. No, it is the excitement of seeing the stoneflies buzzing as I string up the rods. Then again, it must be the first cast, hoping it sets the tone for the day with an aggressive fish breaking the sruface for my Mikulak Sedge. But i have to say it really is the first rise of the day, usually pulling on the fly too soon cause I am just to darn excited to be fishing instead of working. Honestly, it is when my wife gets her first fish of the day swinging a soft hackle as I hold the boat in the current keeping her in the sweet spot. But there is a chance it is when we are driving home talking about all the great things we experienced that day.

Now I need to stop the tall tales and tell the honest truth, it is each and everything I mentioned above. Tying flies the night before while my wife stubbornly asks "dont you have enough?", loading the truck and boat, rigging the rods as the wife shuttles the rig, the fishing, the rowing, watching our dogs run around a gravel bar island only to take a swim to me while waste deep casting to a rising fish, the lying later about the 30+ fish over 20" and how the dogs helped scare the fish up to eat. The catch is just icing on the cake to.

Have fun, Jeff

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Tis my time on the water, in the mountains, and in my driftboat where I can see things as they really are.

[Ray]

Waking up knowing I'm going fishing, followed by the take,

[This message has been edited by Ray (edited 18 February 2005).]

[ohiotuber]

The anticipation & the take!
I MUST admit that I love watching kids fish anymore as much as catching.
Mike

[oldfrat]

That brief glance at the fish's colors and then the feeling that accompanies the release. Of course the battle is a lot of fun too.

[white43]

Pike -- that rushing submarine, nasty strike.
Bass -- the explosion on a topwater.
Smallies -- corraling a swimming swallow.
Carp -- the long bull-like runs.
Crappie -- the slab-shake.
Bluegill -- circling doggedness.
Walleye -- the splashy fight in rivers (which you don't see much of in deepwater lake fishing.
Trout -- turning the page.
JGW

Jude,
For me the anticipation is unbearable. If I was a dog, I'd be jumping up and down barking. On the trip to the river I'd probably be wearing a really stupid looking grin. I'd most likely be thinking of what I possibly forgot to bring along, while waiting eagerly to see my next wading moose. The St Joe in Idaho is such a river. Looking for rises on the way in would make staying on my side of the center line a real chore. Standing knee deep in cold water, casting to the head of a pool and waiting for the take would find me holding my breath. But when all is said and done, I especially like lowering my hand into the river and releasing a Westslope Native Cutthroat into the flow, and watching him disappear into the color of water. Via Condios Me Amigos. They are a beautiful creature, especially when you turn them loose.


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A free gift waits for those who ask.
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Lotech Joe

[monty]

The take