It had been quite a while since my last excursion, as I had been busy with far too many other things, and I was itching to get back on the water, so last Sunday I got up early and hit the road, and to the strains of Soft Machine, headed back up to the Boyne.
Last time I fished the river I was smitten by the beauty of the river, and bitten by the overwhelming swarms of biting flies that called it home. This time I made all the right preparations and was ready to spend all day working various locations up and down the river.
Arriving at the first location I quickly scouted and planned my approach, then wasted no time in getting geared up and wading in. I started working a nice little run into a pool and within 5 minutes I had landed a nice little brook trout. I think brook trout are beautiful little fish, and this was no exception. I watched it swim away and readied my line for the next one, thinking this could be a really enjoyable day.
I fished that pool for another 20 minutes or so, but I wasn’t getting any more action so I decided to move on. Just then, an eagle took flight from a tree about 50 yards to the east, rose up into the sky and flew away to the north. Scenes like this are a large part of why I began fly fishing. To spend hours surrounded by nature is the true goal; catching a fish now and then is an added bonus.
The eagle now gone, I turned my attention back to the Boyne. I began working upstream, hitting all the little rapids, the riffles and pools. I cast into seams that flowed past submerged logs, under banks and overhanging trees, shoals, gravel beds and protective rocks. I tried drifting into pools under fallen trees, dead drifting the river banks, and even stripping across the current, but no matter what I did, I couldn’t entice another fish to hit.
After about 3 hours on the river, I decided it might be a good time to look for another location on the river. As luck would have it, all the other locations I had mapped out were either too overhung with foliage to fish, had issues that prevented access to the river, or were on private property.
Still, as I said before there is more to this than catching fish. I saw squadrons of wild turkeys, countless hares, and a couple of herons. It wasn’t a complete shutout thanks to that pretty little trout, and on top of all this I had a complete day surrounded by beautiful scenery, miles away from laptops, networks and stress.
Carol Welsman started playing just as I started for home, it was a nice way to say goodnight.
Come Fly With Me 