Mountain Morning Lakeside Fishing
Warm breeze bouncing off the water surface removing the fog from its sleep, the suns rays kissing my face as it wakes for the day. The smell of pine trees and the beauty of the majestic tree filled peeks, with snow filled tops surround me. I am in my element. The sounds of monster trout, as they break the waters surface to feed on fresh hatched bugs for breakfast. An ultra light fishing rod in my right hand, I am ready to test my luck. I flip the bail on the reel, hoist the rod over my shoulder and fire it out onto the calm still water only to breaking its tension as the lure splashes and plunges down into its depths. I flip the bail back over to secure the line from free fall on the spool. I begin to reel, making sure I keep the line tight, if a beast of the deep is hungry, I am ready.
Slow and fast, I reel, trying to test the wits of an old Brut rainbow trout. Then it happens, smack! The battle begins, running from right to left, this guy is a hog; heís not going down with out a fight. I try to keep the tip of the rod up but he tugs it down to the waters edge. I grasp the pole with both hands praying this stick doesnít break. He lets up, I start to gain some ground. Then all of a sudden he goes airborne, like a bullet being discharged from a gun; he shakes his head with all his might trying to remove the metal lure from his jowls. I keep the pressure on, pulling and reeling at the same time. He lands back into the water, exploding it like a bomb. He turns and makes a run for it, ripping line from the spool. All I can hear is the sound of the gears grinding in the reel as the fish makes a statement. Finally, he stops. I start to reel; he has thrown in the towel and is generously giving me my line back. With a few head shakes to let me know heís still there, he makes his way towards me. He is awesome! As I get him to the bank, the morning sun displays his coloring like the shield of a warrior. I look around for a net; damn, I forgot the net. I lift the savage fish with all I have left. Slowly I try to swing him to the bank as my pole starts to bend and creak. Pop! The rod gives into the weight of the fish but he has landed on the shore. I scramble before he gets the chance to make a break for it and grab the behemoth. After a quick viewing and a few photos of my trophy, I place him back into the water. I gently grab a hold of the fish, pushing him forward and pulling him backwards to fill his gills with oxygen, helping him regain his strength. I start to revive my noble friend. He starts to gain strength and I let go. The fish slowly swims away still tired from the fight he just endured.
As I stand back to tip my hat to my new educated friend; I canít help but be drawn back into the simplicity of this place and all its beauty.
I wrote about this place because this is where I spend most of my summers. I love the outdoors thatís where I find peace in my life and feel at home. From standing on the bank of a lake on a clear mountain morning, to climbing into a tree stand in the fall for even a glimpse of a big buck, or hiking to a far peak just for the adventure; thatís where I want to be.