43 Years Ago

Today I visited a stream that I have not fished for 43 years. In my experience it is not a good idea to relive memories, things change and it usually leads to disappointment.

I last fished here during my college days when I should have been studying the flora and fauna but I took a short rod instead of a notebook.

The buzzards were mewing in the stiff breeze and the harsh rattle of a 50 caliber machine gun sounded from over the hill. The RM gunners were live firing on the range. The red flags were flying. I always had the stream to myself when the range was in use. On previous visits I walked up the stream bed casting ahead and taking small trout from most pools. They were all returned.


Today I was restricted by a lack of wellingtons, I clambered along the bank looking into the pools. The water was crystal clear and flowed swiftly, no change there. It was good to see green weeds in the water, a sign that the water was not too acid.

I didn’t see any trout but that was always the case, they hide deep in the pools under rocks and bankside rushes.

The little stream was exactly as I remembered. In fact, better than I remember.