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Quite a few years ago I learned a secret about fishing. The trick is that fish just dont care if it rains. We have now all joked from time to time that fish reside in the water and thus they are already wet. For me this joke is seen if the water starts as I am sitting on a mossy bank, throwing a rooster tail right into a slow moving stream. Unlike many fishermen, I've a genuine tale to back up my joke.
It had been many years ago when my Uncle Fred, Dad, my Cousin Freddie, and I were fishing some of the creeks and streams of Eastern Oregon. It'd been cloudy, however warm for much of the morning. The bite was honest, but nothing much to boast about. We would work a supply for a little, then get inside our trucks and head up the path to the next place. The company was needless to say good. There is something about being out in ground, working a stream in total peace with occasional good talk combined because makes fishing more fulfilling.
My Uncle Fred and Cousin Freddie decided to progress ahead a few channels. The clouds were starting to get darker and they had a hole they only had to try. Father and I stayed somewhat longer in the stream we were fishing. After having a few bites, we chose to progress to another creek. No sooner did we start driving down the road, compared to the clouds chose to let loose. It rained. It rained hard. Actually it appeared that sooner we got to the destination, the harder it rained. We looked at on yet another as though daring the other to escape the vehicle first, when we arrived at our supply.
It poured. Since it continued to rain, we just looked out the windows of the truck at the creek running by the roadway. Not enough time passed before the decision was made that it was not likely to stop seeing. My Father said we'd go home when Fred and Freddie drove up. I muttered my contract, although somewhat disgusted the rain wouldnt break enough to allow me to fish one last stream.
After having a couple of minutes, I'd enough of this seeing the water movement in the creek and on from the passenger window of our yellow Chevy Luv. I simply know theres a fish in there waiting to be found I said. My Father said with a smile, that I can always go out and try. I assured him I wasnt that desperate or ridiculous. No raingear, no position in a solid downpour. Yet I did have a concept. I rolled down my window and squeezed my seven-foot rod out the cab of the truck. Dad was changing as quickly as he could to avoid getting hit in the head with the bottom of my rod. It ought to be obvious by this time that I was indeed desperate.
After having a few tries, I flicked a crawler out to the water. Get ready for some fish, I said. Seconds later it had been fish on! Well it took Dad running down his window and my taking the rod on through the cab of the truck to create that Rainbow in. The complete time we just laughed and laughed. It was among the most readily useful fishing trips I will remember. One of the most readily useful due to the great laugh Dad and I had together. And because of the valuable lesson I learned. Fish only dont care. zach hedrick info
