Fly Fishing Fiasco

The Webster's Dictionary defines a fiasco as a complete failure. I can think of no better word to describe my first fly fishing expedition of the season. Oh well. A bad day fly fishing still beats a bad day at work....or so they say.

Adam, Kenly, Chance, and I loaded the truck to capacity to set off on a two night adventure in the Nantahala Gorge. The Nanty, as I like to call it, is a super delayed harvest trout stream. If you don't have skill at all, you should be able to catch a fish in a delayed harvest stream especially when there is a nice yellow fly hatch swarming your head. You see, the hatchery puts a bunch of "stupid" fish in the river which means they have no "river smarts"so to speak. Then for a few months, they forbid anyone to do anything other than catch the trout, speak lovingly to them, and toss them back to learn better next time.

I've been fly fishing for about four years now. I have the official get up...waders, vest, net, flies, and all the jazz that come with this spring time obsession of mine. I like to catch fish, so spring is the best time for me to have success. Throwing fake flies into the river tricks more trout when there is an abundance and a variety of flies zooming about. Last spring, I even went fly fishing when I was so pregnant that my waders no longer fit. Adam had to hold my vest to keep me from toppling in the river because I was a little off balance. So, it stands to say that I like trout and catching trout if I would fish when I was 7 and 8 months pregnant.

Not this weekend.

See me here? Don't I look official? Don't I look like I should be catching a trout here? Nope. Not me.
Here is a picture of a beautiful Brook Trout that Adam caught. Brookies are my favorite. I'm not envious of this trout. Nope. Not me.

I tried using Kenly as a good luck charm this morning, but the only thing I caught was disappointment. Poor me.

I didn't get to soak up any beauty while I was out on the river. Nope. Not me.

But, the real reason I called this trip a fiasco was not my failure to catch a trout. You see, Adam is merciful. He let me get one of his Rainbow Trout off the hook. So, I got to touch a fish, as did Kenly. I even hooked a fish, but I got so excited that I jerked him out of the water enabling him to shake the fly loose....bad fisherwoman.

The real reason I should not have been fishing this weekend occurred in two natural "disasters" that happened when I had a fly rod in hand. First, I got all set up. I hit the river, and the heavens opened up. The rain fell from the sky in torrents. I has sheets of water running off my face. I could barely see the river, and I was standing in it. But, I was faithful. I fished through the downpour, but I was not rewarded. Poor me.

The last thing that happened sent me running for the bank, and I didn't get in the river for the rest of the weekend. I was fishing the Nanty, minding my own business, when I heard a loud pop. I thought nothing of it because I assumed Adam was trying to scare me, yet again, by throwing a rock right next to me. Perhaps his incessant rock throwing is why I didn't catch a fish all weekend. But, the pop was followed by a loud crack, and I kid you not, a tree fell 20 feet in front of me upstream. I nearly wet myself, and I think I may have walked on water. The tree came to rest right where I was standing before I behaved like a "Jesus lizard" wearing waders.

Here is photographic evidence.

So I didn't catch a trout this weekend, but I did catch a hard time. Despite the torrential downpour and the near calamity, I'm alive and well, and wanting to go fishing.