Kenneth J. Nowicki on thu 20 may 04
There he was... all 18 inches of Eastern German Brown trout... carefully
cradled in the guide's hand (the same hand which he wet in the icy river
beforehand, so as not disrupt the protective coating of slime on the fish's body)
...lying there in the morning sun ...the colors and markings were just
astounding... it's light brown kind of goldish colored body, darker on the back and
lighter towards the belly... with it's easily distinguished dark and red spots
encircled with pale halos on it's sides... what a magnificent looking fish!
The guide removed the hand tied nymph from the corner of it's mouth.
Unfortunately, I had no camera with me... so the only memory of this wonderful
adversary is burned in my memory. To my surprise, this guide calmly said "Let's see
what you had for breakfast today"... and gently rolled the large fish over onto
his back, exposing his belly while the guide carefully balanced him in his
hand. I watched in amazement what happened next. The guide then reached into his
fishing vest and pulled out a small "syringe"... not the kind in which you
are thinking either... for this one looked like a miniature turkey baster... a
small glass tube with a rubber bulbous end to it. He then reached into the
river... and slurped up some water into the bulb... and deftly slid the glass tube
into the trout's gaping mouth... sliding it carefully into it's belly... and
with one quick motion... he squirted the water into the trout's stomach... and
then slurped the content's into the bulb of the syringe. With my jaw hanging
open... I watched on as he put the syringe into a pocket of his vest... and
asked me "Would you like to let him go or shall I?" I said "Sure, I'll take him"
I wet my hands again and carefully took the fish from my guide... laying him
into the current facing upstream... one hand under his belly... the other hand
carefully holding his tail... I lowered him into the water... letting the
river flow through his gills again... and upon the guide's instructions... I
moved him back and forward a bit in the water... to insure he was getting enough
oxygen. Soon, I could feel the exhausted trout regaining it's strength in it's
muscle movement in my hands... twitching... and writhing a bit... and within
moments... he felt ready to be on his way... once again... free to catch again
someday... and... with one strong kick of his tail... he slid out from my
hands and upstream and down into the 6 foot depths of the Provo River... wow...
what a wonderful moment that was for me.
I stood there... silently for a moment... soaking in the experience... then
heard my guide say "Let's take a peek here..." as I looked over to see him with
the syringe again in his hand... I'd almost forgotten about it... I was so
moved by the releasing of my fish. I watched closely as the guide squirted the
syringe's contents into the palm of his other hand. Like a little boy with a
new toy, you should have heard my guide's excitement as he discovered the
contents of the trout's previous meals... "Ooh great!!!" he said... as he examined
some new insects in the palm of his hand... "I'll go home and tie a dozen or so
of these tonight!" he exclaimed... Apparently the trout had changed their
diet, and began feeding on a different stage of insect than what they had been
feeding on in recent days. One thing became crystal clear to me immediately...
fly fishing is ALL ABOUT entomology! This young guide, a kid... probably in his
early 20s... clearly was more fanatical about fishing than even I was... and
had been fishing this river most of his life... knew every bend... every
overhang... every riffle, rockpile, boulder and bridge crossing... hell... he
probably knew the fishes by name! He excitedly pulled out a little glass vial from
his vest, slide the insects onto the vial... and then withdrew a little
squeeze bottle of some kind of solution... squeezed it into the vial... capped the
vial... and put everything back in his vest. Man... was I outgunned here or
what. This guy made me look like a major novice... and... I suppose... in
retrospect... I was.
When we returned to the parking lot of the Sundance resort (yes, the very
same Sundance that Robert Redford created in Provo Canyon) to meet my wife... we
were walking up the hill to meet my wife... and say our good-bye's... and my
wife yell's out the proverbial "Well... did you catch anything?" My face lit up
and I smiled at my guide... and yelled back excitedly... "Yeah... an eighteen
inch German Brown!!!" She scoffed as a non-fisherman might and said... "So
where is he?" After explaining that we released him... she still didn't think I
caught him... not until the guide chimed in and reaffirmed my catch anyway.
The guide and I said "so long" and I never saw him again. My wife an I returned
to our cabin and spent the rest of the weekend in Sundance enjoying ourselves
dining, shopping, and even seeing an outdoor play of "Oklahoma" under the
stars. It was a memorable anniversary for sure... but an even more memorable fish!
- Ken
Months later, after getting my own fly fishing equipment... I would return to
that same spot on the river... over and over again... and you know... I never
did catch that fish again! :-)
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