A few times a year I get a hankering for fish; fried creek-side in cast iron. I am not sure just what it is that triggers it under normal conditions, but on this particular trip I knew it was the cool mornings and turning leaves that were my downfall. Sometimes I think it's my inner-fisherman that spawns the urge, after witnessing dozens of trout released throughout a season's time on the water. At some point it has just had enough and says, "My turn". So as with this occasion, I find myself gathering up my things in a small hunting daypack I have to spend a day fishing some and relaxing a bit more along a quiet stretch of water.