The giant Salmonflies of the Western mountains are legendary for their proclivity to elicit consistent dry-fly action and ferocious strikes.
Just wanted to be on record with that. I was going to head about 85 minutes north to fish over some BWOs, but it's snowing hard where I live and I don't feel like driving that far for no reason.
Been fishing in shirtsleeve weather to rising fish and abundant hatches for weeks now... Sorry, guys. I couldn't help myself - it's the sadistic streak in me..:)
Hmmm, seems to me that fishing in the snow is the only thing I REALLY miss about the old keystone state. But maybe that's just me.
There's a certain solitude in the winter.
Gaining ground to the riverbank, through the knee-deep snow, I keep a close eye on the water surface. The large heavy snowflakes appeared to be hitting the water with such force as to leave rippling dimples, but the closer I got the more the optical illusion started to reveal itself. I wasn’t struck with the reality of the situation like it was a sudden revelation; it was more of a slow building manifestation that increased with each repeating heartbeat. My ticker rate, anxiety and forward progress, peaked at the moment the reality dawned on me. They say that only fools rush in, and like a fool my hurried pace had me stumbling to my knees in an attempt to get to the water faster. The trout had the surface covered with dimples from bank to bank, as they slurped the shuck hindered adult midges from their watery bonds.