The Dark

I have previously written of my disdain for cell phones. They are intrusive. However, my son, Bob, and my wife, Donna, both believe I should carry one when I am fishing or hunting alone; so in the interest of family harmony, I remember to carry the one they bought me about half the time I am out.

I had it with me the morning I shot a nice gobbler this past spring. I called Bob quickly after tagging the beautiful turkey. When he picked up, I think he was happier about my success than I was.

Most often, however, I use the phone to call Donna following evening fishing adventures. I was especially good about it during the fly hatches this May. Since the sulphur mayflies have been wiped out on nearby Clover Creek, I had to enjoy my evenings of hatch-matching fly-fishing elsewhere. Most of the time I found myself on the BFO (big, famous, overfished) River. The drives to the spots I fished take somewhere between 25 and 35 minutes, and I often walked in – and out – for another 10 to 20 minutes. Upon arriving at my old Ranger after fishing, I tried to reassure Donna that I was all right and let her know how long it would take me to drive home.

This spring I was fortunate to find spots on the BFO to fish nearly every time I drove there. The BFO is heavily fished, and finding unoccupied spots is at a premium. If I found a hundred yards of water unoccupied, I stayed to fish.

Several evenings I got “bonus water.” I fished upriver on these evenings, planning to stop where I had seen other fishermen in the water. Even though flies were still hatching and trout were still rising to eat them, these fishermen often departed, leaving me the water with the feeding trout.

It was getting dark when these anglers departed. Perhaps they were sensible to get out of the water while they could still see; but I smugly thought they left because they were afraid of the dark. Maybe I’m foolish, but I am not too fearful of the dark. Though I have seen bears closer than is comfortable, once almost stepped on a rattlesnake after dark, and have encountered “night riders” near parking areas, I have caught some big trout as darkness falls; and I have enjoyed some quiet walks back to my truck afterwards. Perhaps my lack of fear of the dark is one of the few fishing advantages I have left at my age.