Sunday, January 17, 2016

Pterodactyls and Brown Trout

To call him uncle Mike is a bit misleading.  He is indeed not my uncle, but rather my good friend Kevin's uncle.  He is new to the sport of trout fishing with a fly rod, but has joined us on many a Salmon River steelhead trip.  I have called him uncle Mike since the day I first met him and will continue to do so for the rest of my days. 
We set out on our day to the river with one goal in mind, get uncle Mike fish!  I knew the fish were around and I knew that it would not be too difficult to get him into fish quick.  We popped around to all of the usual spots and caught many nice stockies just to get the rust off.  All the while uncle Mike was soaking in the scenery and just enjoying being on the river with friends and family. 
Then it got a little interesting.  The shadow came from above and it felt like a scene out of the movie "Birds." Swooping down and landing within feet of our run, the monstrous bird was on a mission.  I wouldn't call it an attack, it was more like a well played chess match from there on out.  The great blue heron was enormous! So much so that I started to think maybe it was a pterodactyl.  We tried our best to ignore the beast, but it was relentless.  We would drift and it would take a step closer.  We would move away and it would follow us.  When we hooked fish, it got that crazy look in its beady little eyes and lunged at the end of our lines.  For the rest of the afternoon, we would move to different spots and sure enough here comes the big bird!  He never did steal one of our fish, but I have never been so close to a bird of that size.  I think we were eventually able to ditch the bird due to a slow motion karate / fencing routine displayed by my 65 year old father in the middle of the river.  It must of either scared the bird or embarrassed him so much that he didn't want to be part of our group anymore. 
We made one last move to a spot that was a little more out of the way, and hoped to get uncle Mike into one last good fish.  As the evening was winding down, I hear uncle Mike say, "I'm on." The fish immediately sped downriver to where Kevin was just below us.  I yelled to Kev and said, "good fish."  After a bulldog battle we were able to land a nice 17" brown trout that topped off the day.  For most people this would have been the highlight of the outing, but I truly believe that uncle Mike was just enjoying the whole process so much that if the fish had snapped off, it would not have been a big deal.  I got a couple of nice pictures and sent the brown back in to grow to be another Connecticut River monster in years to come. 
We headed back to camp, laughed our heads off about the bird and told stories of our time on the water for the rest of the evening.  It doesn't get much better than that if you ask me.

"The Pterodactyl"

"Uncle Mike"

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