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fly fishing

the journal of Michael Werneburg

twenty-seven years and one million words

I decided to try my hand at fly fishing while I'm in Campbell River. I bought a rod/reel combo and a handful of flies. I got a bit lost looking for a certain river and wound up wandering around a lake during the warmest part of the day. I managed to get the basics of casting with the unfamiliar gear, then went home for lunch (and, it turned out, a nap). In the afternoon I succeeded in finding the river I'd wanted to find, and walked about 2.5km up its banks, stopping where I could. Most of the lower river didn't seem to have any fish but toward the top I found some and had a number of bites. I even had a fish on the line at one point, a small rainbow trout. But another, larger fish (this one a tan color) appeared and took a hit at the same fly and I lost the original fish. It's always something with trout!

There was a recurring noise behind at that point, and I caught a glimpse of a dark shape among the rock slope against which I was standing. Keeping an eye on it, I was surprised to see a mink or a marten (or possibly a "fisher") staring back at me.

I also saw a large kingfisher, certainly a different species from the tiny green ones in Japan.