Well, it’s the last day of season here in IL. The new stockers go in tomorrow (3/15) and trout waters are closed until 5 A.M. April 7th. I thought I’d give it one last try before the close and so I took some newly tied flies and newly learned skills (both thanks to members of FAOL) and made my way to the second closest trout water to my home here in central IL, the Illinois Dept of Transportation Lake in Springfield. It’s a nice little lake, clean for IL (which means 18+ inches of visibility.) Depending on who you ask, it’s either 17 or 31 acres- I didn’t ask the fish, so who knows. I walked around to the east side, as I had not fished it before and the wind also favored it. I tied on an abomination of a parachute Adams I tied a week ago that could float a sunken battleship and applied some floatant (just for overkill) and then added 12 inches of tippet and an ugly little #14 accident fly- you know the kind that seems like just the ticket at around 3 A.M. when you’ve been up since 6 A.M. and tying the same three patterns since 8 P.M. They rarely look good in the light of day. I figured if I lost it in the weeds gaging for depth it would not be missed. I tangled it up three times before getting it wet, then settled into a rhythm of sloppy, ill conceived, cross-wind casts. I managed to catch a couple of small bluegill and decided maybe the sad little fly would do after all. I dropped it down to 18 inches and started getting the most gentle hits I had ever seen, just a flick of the Adams. After missing several, I finally hooked up. The fish fought well and flashed, but did not break water and I thought “that looks like a crappie.” It fought some more and flashed again and I thought “no that looks like a small striped bass.” As everything I had seen about rainbows suggested they were strong jumpers, I was certain it was not a trout. It wasn’t until I got it much closer to shore that I recognized the unmistakable nose of the trout and the white of the fins. By the time I got it to hand, I was shaking. Once in hand, I promptly dropped the fish and as I did the knot securing the fly let go. The fish landed in about 3 inches of water, but the shock of the fall or exhaustion from the fight left it stunned. I was now shaking more. I bent low and scooped up my first trout. My first trout on a fly, a fly that I had tied using dubbing given to me by a FAOL member, attached to my line with a furled monofilament leader given to me by another FAOL member, using a fishing technique that was learned from information provided by several other FAOL members. I would like to thank you all. I will not post names, (as a few of the more modest might slap me around) but you all know who you are- those who have supported me, pushed me, educated me, those who provide this site and maintain it and one member in particular who took me aside to encourage me to quit worrying about what others think and just ask. In the end, that?s all I had to do. I have been hunting my white whale for about 9 months now, thank you all for helping me get here. Luke
