I don't know what came over me. Last week I just felt I HAD to fish - no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Life has kind of conspired to keep me away from my fly rod for the past few months. So I decided to give it a try.

I ended up fishing the Smoky Mountains Nat'l Park yesterday for about 4 hours. When I got there the ambient temp was about 28, when I left it had reached a balmy 38. I spent two hours out, up until my hands started numbing. I have to say that the morning was very frustrating. I started on the Tremont Creek section. As much as I love my Sage Fli 590, I'm beginning to think that a 9' rod is too much for the smaller creeks. I think I spent about twice as much time repairing my leader and tying on new flies as I did actually fishing. I was nymphing, and since the water was heavy I was putting extra weight on behind my BH Pheasant Tails to try to get into the deeper pools. It didn't work, I didn't catch anything. Not even a strike. Depressed I headed out of the park after two hours. This is nothing new - I'm coming to realize that I need some lessons. It's a very rare thing for me to hook into a fish up there.

I stopped at the local fly shop before heading home. I had been told that if I found anything to buy myself for Christmas to go ahead and SWMBO (She Who Must Be Obeyed) would wrap it and put it under the tree. A new rod was out of the question, but a C&F nymph box and a couple of other small things were just about right. Also, the folks there asked me what I'd been doing that morning, gave me a few tips on what I might be doing wrong (like fishing too early - the water temp was only 38 degrees), and sold me enough replacement flies that I decided to go out again, this time on the Little River.

It's odd fishing sections of river that are packed with tubers and sunbathers in the summer and being the only one there. I fished for another two hours and the only other person I saw was a kayaker. I didn't catch anything again, but I had two good strikes. One of them was near the surface and the fish hit my fly hard. I just couldn't set in time, or I set too soon. So while feeling sorry for myself about my shoddy fishing skills, I notice a car stop above me. They stop just long enough to take a picture of me and leave. I looked around and realized that I'm standing in a gorgeous spot, with sunlight dappling the surface and light mists wafting over the river. I figured they wanted a picture of an idiot in a skullcap and camo neoprene waders fishing in freezing water to remind them of why they live in Florida or something.

No fish, lost 5 flies and destroyed a leader. But I can say I did it. I know what it's like to clean ice out of my guides. I'm sure it will happen again, but probably not until I do a bit more reading about what I'm supposed to be doing out there.