A Brown On The Bow
The alarm goes off and I jump out of bed. It’s time to go fishing again, my friends. I can’t wait. I turn off the alarm and hear that glorious morning sound of birds chirping. I wipe the cob webs from my eyes. My heart begins to race in anticipation of the day ahead.
As I step out of my car at the Bow River, I flush a gold-breasted pheasant. It flies desperately for cover and I smile. nothing for you to worry about, I tell the bird. I’m here for the fish.
I lean over my tackle box to tie up my first choice, a shiny gold Minnow Spinner. It’s so bright in the sun that it causes me to squint. I look up into the sky. It’s close to eight o’clock now. I’m eager to get on with the fishing, as the days are short in the winter time.
The water is clear blue, almost ice blue, yet I am alone. There is no one around but me and some large brown trout swimming over the rocks. I cast my selection slightly upstream and allow it to seek as it swings down with the current. Anticipation of that first fish is almost unbearable at this point.
I look up to the crystal sky, blue against the backdrop of Canadian Rockies. I am happy that I’m a fisherman and have this great escape in my life free from the fast-paced hustle of city life.
Carefully, I work my offering to tantalize the big brown I imagine lying in wait underneath the surface.
As the lure tumbles over the bottom of the Bow, I cannot help but think this is where I am meant to be. Slowly I retrieve spinner all the way back to shore and there is no trout on the end of the line.
I shrug and cast again. The spinner drops into the water, swings, takes up motion and WHAM, I’m fast into a monster brown. The line screams out of my reel and I might have lost him, but my Berkley XT monofilament is stronger than him. He bulldogs his way to the middle of the river, but I hold him.
Just as I think he’s going to come in, he turns to ride the current downstream. My rod bends sharply to his effort, but I won’t give in. Slowly I gain the upper hand. The fight is honest and pure and equal for a time, and then he comes to the bank and is mine.
This guy was one tough customer. I kneel down beside him in the flowing water to administer some first aid to my new friend. I ask for the forceps but there’s no nurse around. He’s not a very good patient and won’t lie still; but I gently work the hook from his mouth.
He’s not the one in the photograph. I released back without a picture. But he was just like the one you see. Yes, I was meant to be there. Oh, the fun of it! There’s nothing in the entire world like trout fishing on the Bow.
This post was edited by Dwayne P. of Idaho. U.S.A. See his website at http://www.talesoffish.blogspot.com/
