^Fish tunes for your enjoyment.
The fall leaves have pretty much reached the peak here in Northern Appalachia. The days are getting shorter and colder and we all know what we have to look forward to over the next few months. I don't mind winter as much as some people, but I'd be lying if I said the beauty of fall wasn't bittersweet. Fishing larger water for larger trout is appealing to anyone who has ever held a fly rod and that's what the colder months bring for me.
The blazing yellow, red, orange and green hills, the falling leaves, and the crisp air signal a culmination of my favorite fishing. Technicolor trout attacking bushy dry flies like they might be their last meal of the year - nothing compares. Sure, the clear little rivulets you're following while kicking through the crispy leaves are no wider than the over-engineered graphite stick you're toting is long. That's the beauty of it.
The sole purpose of flyfishing is to have fun. You can't help but chuckle when the little brothers of the trout you're actually after do somersaults over your ginked up stimulator. Repeated splashy rises in a tiny riffle leave you grinning and shaking your head. Time to step up to the next run.
I had intended to do a little more exploring and fish a few different creeks, I simply had too much fun to leave. It's easy to get lost in time when you are getting rises in almost every fishy looking spot. I've done a lot of exploring different bluelines this summer and some really didn't pay off. So on this day that could be the last consistent dry fly fishing I see this year, I was happy to keep threading casts through more beech brush and low hanging hemlock branches as I got closer to the top.
There's no better activity to clear your head and recharge. I climbed my way back out of the mini-canyon I was in and walked the dirt road back to where I parked the truck. A day like this gets you feeling so good, you turn on the radio thinking, "..the old '97's gonna make it this time."