just lloyd
10-20-08, 05:10 PM
My wife and I headed up to stay with friends over at their place off of Panther Branch Road near Waynesville with the intent to try the DH on the West Fork of the Pigeon River. As luck would have it, we made a small detour and headed over to the Nantahala DH for an hour of fishing right before sunset Friday. The place was deserted. Rigged up with Olive Wooly Bugger and started at a bridge on the upper end. Now, I married my wife nearly twenty-six years ago because she was cute, smart, loved animals, liked to camp and most importantly she loved to fish. And to this day, she fishes with a determination that I have never possessed. Her last freshwater fish came a year ago about this time of year on the Davidson. A well outfitted sport was leaving about the time we were rigging up and that fellow noticed my wife stringing up a short 5X leader with a # 12 Anytime Anywhere and he must have thought he was being helpful by telling her she was wasting her time if she wasn't going with a 12 foot 7X and a fly at least a #20 or smaller. We were at the little parking lot there at the hatchery outflow and the gentleman hadn't even gotten his waders off before my Beverly had tied into a robust 16 incher. She played him quickly and released that fish much to the dismay of the sport. She was satisfied with that single fish and she sat streamside with a cup of tea and watched me go 0 for 10, never rubbing it in that I had come up empty handed. That's the kind of girl I married. Fast forward to last Friday. We slipped into the water under a bridge on the upper end of the DH. She was quickly into a chubby nine inch Brookie and released it unharmed. She handed me the rod and told me to go ahead. Three lovely fish and forty-five minutes later we were done. We walked back up to the car and slowly made our way over to Waynesville to meet our friends for drinks and a late supper. We never made it to the Pigeon as we spent the rest of the weekend watching football, riding the dirt bike, hiking and just taking in the fabulous fall foliage. On Sunday morning we briefly discussed running over to the Tuck but decided no reason to be greedy. We had had our fun on Friday evening and we'll save the Tuck for another trip sometime soon. As I've gotten older and have broadened my interests, I've lost the will to churn the water from daybreak to dusk and I've become content to pull a fish here and there and let that be it. Thankfully my bride, for the most part, feels the same. There are times when I can't get her out of the water and she still outfishes me, but the both of us are always grateful for what is given. And last Friday was one of those times.
Who knows though what might have happened if we had gotten to the river earlier in the afternoon.
Who knows though what might have happened if we had gotten to the river earlier in the afternoon.