We’re surrounded by these interesting Manzanita trees. They appear barkless, with a gorgeous red covering offset by deep green leaves.
But for me, it is not the colors, but their shapes and lines.
If you are a long time reader/follower, you would not be surprised by that.
Goddess, Skinny and I spent the long Memorial Day weekend camping in the forest to our east. It was the first time that Skinny has ever camped with us, complete with a tent; our backyard camps don’t count. It was only the second time that Goddess has camped, ever; her first time was when we spent the weekend at Rock am Ring festival in Germany, so that doesn’t really count.
I did not spend any time taking pictures, instead reacquainting my arm with the process of casting a fly to (hopefully) taking trout. Other than an odd day here or there, it’s been 20 years since I’ve been in a place where I could consistently fish for trout.
As far as I’m concerned, any day fishing for trout is better than any other day fishing, period. Although any day fishing is better than a day of not fishing.
There is a hierarchy to keep in mind, you know.
While not all of the cobwebs are swept free, casting a fly is a lot like riding a bicycle. The muscle memory was there, as were the fine motor movements of tying knots on #12 hook (think smaller than your thumbnail long, with the eye covering a very small portion of that). So there was success.
A few small (4-6″) brook trout, a nice 9″ brown trout and a nice 10″ rainbow trout. The last two were kind enough to join us for dinner over a campfire and under the stars. That meal was another first for Goddess.
And Skinny approved, giving both the brown and rainbow the sniff of approval.
All-in-all, an enjoyable weekend. We’re looking forward to more.