Nothing is easy. I was willing to go the distance today and it paid off. The tide was going out on the Mousam River and on one side of the river the flyfishermen were stacked on top of each other. They all stood there, shoulder to shoulder, fishing one hole that was producing a fair amount of fish. The elements on this side of the river were fair, but the elements on the opposite side of the river were spectacular. Ocean waves tumbled across the sand bar and collided with the flowing river. The result was a perfect seam of water. Nobody was fishing this seam of water, it was so close to everyone but hard to access. The deep river had to be crossed and there were only a few sections of the river that would allow for a crossing. The tide was the biggest factor in the equation and the tidal waters are unforgiving. One wrong step and your soaked. Anyway, there I was, amongst the drones, hoping to get one fish, in an oceanic pool that mine as well have been a small trout pond. I gazed over to the other side of the river and I knew I had to go. I could see the fish rising. I could feel the soon to come strikes in my bones. I had to cross the river. So off I went, as the drones stared at me. Questioning and silently judging my decision. But I knew that deep down, a long lost part of each of them wanted to come with me. I drudged up river, looking for the perfect spot to cross and after several failed attempts I finally found it. At the deepest section, the water nearly engulfed my waders, but then the sand began to rise upward and I was on the other side. I had to walk across slippery kelp covered rocks to get where I needed to be. The rain was pooring and I was cold. I slowly edged my way to that sacred seam and I began to strip line from my real. I through out my line and stripped my white and olive deceiver across the seam. WHAM! First cast. I slowly pulled back and enjoyed that taste of success. I savored every moment of that fish on my line and after releasing him, I repeated this scenario about 20 times. I caught fish after fish and got my fill of stripers. Now for the end of the story. Of course it could not end on the glory note. I got greedy and stayed on the other side too long. I tried to cross at the location I crossed on the way over, but the water was high. The tide was coming in and mother nature was about to teach me a lesson. I tried to make it across, stepped into a huge hole, water fille my waders and I was humbled once again. I had to walk over rough terrain to a bridge, located about a mile downstream, cross the bridge and then walk all the way back up stream. I was cursing myself on both parts of the journey, but if I had to go back and do it again I would. Well, maybe I would have left after 18 fish – but then again maybe not. See Some Photos
