It may be small, but this little guy was one of the first trout I've caught in nearly 10 years.
In two weeks I will be drifting through 60 miles of trout paradise on the Smith River in Montana, armed with a trusty fly rod, a lot of hope, and a rusty cast. After quickly booking the trip about two weeks ago, I tried hard to remember the last time I fly fished for trout.
Digging through fishing logs and my brain (which is commonly on trial for trivial things such as forgetting to pick up the right cheese at the grocery store, yet can remember exact details of fish caught over 10 years ago – sorry honey we're hunters, not gatherers) I found the last time I fooled a trout into eating a hook covered in deer hair was the summer of 2000... and yes, I can recall the exact details.
After finding myself in this predicament (a great problem to have at that), I set off to some local rivers to dust off my trout skills. Luckily, after an hour or two of donating my flies to the river's surrounding trees, I found my rhythm and the trout followed, which I dedicate this new sketchbook entry to. "Staying Ahead"
