Fishing Journal 2023, 2024, 2025

 Fishing Journal 2023, 2024, 2025

2023 Fishing Journal

 Crooked Island, Bahamas April 2023

C and I left home on April 5 and met the WVa contingent in Atlanta. Delta kept switching gates and posting delays, but we eventually got to Nassau. As we were waiting in Atlanta, I learned that there is an extra fee for every hour we are late getting to our charter plane in NAS. Then I was told that 5:30 from NAS was our absolute latest take off time because the pilot has to fly us 1.5 hours to Crooked but then be in the air and in radio contact with NAS on the return before sunset. When we pulled up to the Fixed Base Operator terminal in NAS, a guy in an orange shirt yelled out "Are these the guys going to Crooked?". We said yes and loaded quickly and just made the take off time.

All was going well in flight. I looked over at C who was trying to figure out where we were using Apple Maps. It did not tell us much so I turned on my phone (about an hour 15 into an hour and 1/2 flight) to look at Google Maps. I noticed a text message saying "It looks like you are heading to the wrong airport!". Luckily the airport we wanted was 35 miles closer and so after a very rapid descent we landed (my right ear is still popping 10 days later). 

The next morning we had to stay close to port because of high winds and no guides available. C saw some egrets and horse eye jacks on her walk which got us all excited about fishing.  We decided to do 4 on or near island activities. First we went to the tiny island lighthouse from the late 1800s but deserted since the 1990s. We got close via the Ad Lib and then rowed ashore in the kayaks. The wind was at  least 25 mph. 

 

Now way was I going to try to climb those stairs.

Next up back on the main island was a kayak paddle across a deserted salt pond to a trail up to an old fort which the British used to protect the island and the salt business. Andrew the property manager and Ishmael were our guides. They identified poisonwood for us, which is a relative of poison ivy with the same effect on those susceptible like me. We found overgrown stone walls, several old cannon from George V reign, and a couple of ruined plantation houses. The plantations grew sisal and cotton at one time. It must have been hard scrabble living. Population was 7000, now 250.

 

After lunch we did some reef fishing and caught a couple of groupers and snappers of different kinds. Then it was off to a pretty extensive limestone cavern complete with creepy openings, bats, crab shells, lizards, and holes in the stone where trees grew through to the light. We saw 1818 scratched on a wall but it may have been fake.

 

The highlight of the evening for me was catching bar jacks on my Tenkara rod off the back of the SB. Another caption for this photo might be "The moon was a ghostly galleon, tossed on stormy seas".

The next day (Good Friday) we fished with Dennis and Fidel, a guide from Acklins (they are not 7th Day Adventists there). The wind was blowing all day and at one point early on we all got totally soaked in a rain shower. We saw a few fish, mostly in ones and twos but could not see them in time (spooky) and had a hard time casting in that wind. It was pretty depressing.

On the 8th the wind abated but still was blowing. I recommended we try deep sea fishing from the Ad Lib, The water right outside the harbor dropped to 1000, then 1400, the more than 2000 feet. We worked Dennis pretty hard changing baits and getting the riggers up but had no luck. Then right before lunch we moved closer to the reef hoping to pick at least a barracuda. Tom caught a nice cero mackerel there. Saw a white tailed tropicbird.

After lunch we all did individual things. Bill and Jay went to the salt pond on bikes, had fun but no fish, got a flat tire, and met a few of the locals on the way back. C, Tom, and I got a tour of the lodge and read a bit. I fished the slough behind the harbor in the late afternoon, saw a baby turtle and a ray but had no bites.

The wind dropped off and shifted more westerly on the 9th. Our guide was Michael. Both boats had a long bouncy run on the west side of Crooked then back to the north into extensive flats with many dead trees in patches and few mangroves living. We saw fish in schools all morning and caught a few. Bill took a great video of me wading and catching one with others swimming around my feet but I can't figure out how to get over here to the blog. The guys on Dennis' skiff had similar success. 

After lunch we made a long run down to Long Cay (population 6). We came to a big deep flat where the fish were schooled up. We followed their motion and stayed probably a bit too long but we all caught several. I think our combined total for the day was 25 or so. A good day, with two brilliantly pink flamingoes with black striping under their wings to cap it off.

On the long ride back Michael pointed out to me some thimble jellyfish. They show up near the islands when the wind is from the west and pack quite a sting. I caught one in a ziplock without getting stung.

On the 10th Michael took all of us down past Long Cay in search of a big school that hangs out in the Fish Cays. Live conch and starfish everywhere. We tried finding them by wading without much luck but Bill and I had a blast catching tiny snappers (and a needle fish and a small barracuda) while wading.When we got back in the skiffs Dennis and Michael had found the school.

This school must have had 1000s of fish in it. I wish we had photos but we were so entranced with the fish that we took no pictures. Upon reflection again we stayed too long fishing this school. Afterwards I felt like Buffalo Bill Cody shooting at one of those giant herds of buffalo out west where the herd would not run and he just kept shooting and shooting. 

When we did break away we went to a different area of Long Cay where Tom and I waded for quite a way without seeing anything. Then after a short run toward home we came upon a smaller school than the one in the morning but with the same look- swimming in a circle, visible from a distance both by the darkness compared to the sandy bottom as well as the way the fish would thrash the surface in unison. 

This was another wonderful day with a total of more than thirty probably.

Dinner was in the lodge- three courses of conch plus wahoo.

Sunrise in the harbor: 

April 11- Charter to NAS, Delta to Atlanta and Richmond and Dulles. Fun trip.

July 17- Shenandoah float with Brian and Jay. Hot, hazy but no rain. River was a little murky. We fished from the town of Shenandoah down about 11 miles by river, 3 miles by car.  Must have caught 75-100 each with size larger overall than previous trips.

About two weeks after this trip, Jay fell down some steps and banged up his head and face pretty hard. Rehab at Sheltering Arms here out in Short Pump. Was touch and go for a while. 

September 13- Shenandoah from Port Republic for about 7 1/2 miles. Cool weather (80), very low water, pretty murky from carp grubbing up the bottom. Fished with Bill S and Brian. J is on "injured reserve". It was a slow day for smallmouth- maybe 20; an extremely unusual day for sunfish, maybe another 20 or so; pfal fish were biting- another 10; and the prize of the day was a 40 minute fight on a 6 weight rod resulting in my first carp- 15 pounds.

September 17-23, 2023, Clark Fork near Missoula MT- When we arrived the outside temperature and the water temperature was pretty warm. We had a couple of slow days, but each day did get slightly better. Catching a mix of rainbows and cutthroats. On Wednesday of this week I caught a nice brown trout. The guide said out of our whole group for the week we would probably catch one brown trout, and this one was really that one. Thursday looked like rain all day but it held off, and with the cooler temperatures fishing picked up again. Today I added a couple of cutthroat to the Tenkara list. One of our guys caught a kind of fish I did not know-  pike minnow or a squawfish. Definitely not minnow size.

 

On the last day it was pretty uncomfortable in the rain all morning. It stayed cloudy but stopped raining at lunch. The river came to life with a Boetis hatch and for a while we were catching a fish on almost every cast. It was unique in my fishing experiences in MT. 

Another thing about this year- note no trips to Mossy. I sold it last year. Yes I miss it but it is good not having the pressure to use it, especially in light of taking care of Dad's estate and other things.

 

2024

Chub Cay January with Tom Rockwood and Jay

 

 

Jay's first big venture since his fall. Weather made us very flexible. We trolled without success other than seeing two beautiful Mahis at a distance. We botttom fished. We fished from shore. We bonefished.

Total species caught- yellowtail snappers, mangrove snappers, cuda, houndfish, triggerfish, Nassau grouper, strawberry grouper, rainbow runner, pinfish, cero mackeral, one other kind of grouper, bonefish (Tom one, me one). When I counted on the boat I had 15 plus so my memory has failed.

Saw a huge Manatee in the harbor. 

Nice trip, especially the food and the company, not so much the weather. 

Three days of trout fishing in the North island of NZ Feb. 21-23, 2024

 

 C and I were in Queenstown at the end of our W&L trip- after briefly seeing some of the North Island but mostly the South Island from Queenstown (Shotover Jet boat ride) to Lake Tekapo to Mount Cook to Te Anau with partial treks along the Milford Track, the Kepler Track, and four or five smaller trails.

 On the 20th we flew to Rotorua and rented a car to get to the fishing site. This was my first time driving on the left side of the road and I admit I was very nervous. While I am on the subject of driving here, I admit that once, much later in this trip, I got in the car on the left side and sat there for about 20-30 seconds before it dawned on me there was no steering wheel. Luckily Connie wasn’t there to notice this little slip. Our rental was an MG, which I have not seen or heard about since 50 years ago in college.

 The drive was about 50 miles straight into an area the rental car agent was surprised about. She said not many people go into the Wririnaki region (“Wr” in Māori is pronounced like an “f”).

 Off we went not knowing what to expect. There were lots of dairy farms, some private and some funded by Fonterra which asked the cattle farmers to triple the size of their herds and feed them on palm kernel provided by Fonterra and then to sell the milk powder to Fonterra at rock bottom prices for the Chinese market. I learned all this later from my fishing guide who was a rabid environmentalist (and who shouldn’t be a rabid environmentalist living here?).

 There was lots of planted pine forest and then pine harvesting along the road too. My guide told me sometimes they get cyclones here that pick up the pine leftovers (slash) in a wall of death and blow it down the hills.

 Here the pests to the birds like kiwis are introduced rats, feral cats and introduced stoats (weasels). I saw one crossing the road. There are signs saying the road gets “frosty”, there is “wandering stock”, and report all “wallabies”, another introduced species. New Zealand law says you should run over a possum in the road (another introduced species) rather than swerve. The Australasian Harriers are the buzzards of NZ and eat up the roadkill, while some folks gather the possums to skin them for use mixed with merino wool as fabric for socks, hats, and gloves.

 We got to our “farm stay” which is like a B&B ultralight and very rustic. We arrived after dark and learned we should have stopped at the nearest grocery store 20 plus miles back over a very curvy road to get some breakfast provisions. There were 2 cabins, one occupied by the guide and his departing clients and the other for us. The host was very friendly and had six dogs (used for boar hunting) of which we saw two. It was extremely quiet and I wish I could have stayed up at night to see the stars without ANY background light, but I was “knackered” each night.

 First day of fishing (Feb. 21) we went on the Wririnaki down the road about 20 minutes from our farm stay. The stream was very rocky and slippery and I went full into the river right off the bat. The trout are super wary and have vision all around except for 12-20 degrees right behind them. This really is closer to stalking and hunting than to fishing. This is why my guide had recommended camo clothing. I have none. I bought a camo hat but it just looked too doofus. Maybe this explains my lack of luck. I got three after floundering around all day and losing many more. Guide comment on my first hook up- “have you ever caught a trout before?”. And after this day I felt like it was a just question. My best moment was when we had been watching this one fish move around but return over and over to the same place. The guide said I had an 80% chance of catching him on the first cast but 20% if I could get a second chance. After dragging line across fish all day and spooking them in many other ways, I cast and actually hooked and caught him on the first try.

On the way back we stopped at a national park (all parks are free in NZ) campground to look at a nearby waterfall. We saw 4 Czechs staying in a camper van. The guide said the Czechs rent a van and stay two or thee weeks, dib dab nymphing in four different bits of fishing territory each day, spending nothing except maybe on beer and a little food. I think this contributes to the wariness of the fish but nothing to the NZ economy.

 For the second day we took a helicopter up to pure heaven. I was awake half the night worrying about whether this was a safe move or not. Not a sign of a human ever being there, only fresh stag tracks. This was on the Waiau River and a tributary. I didn’t fall this day but I also couldn’t catch a fish. I hooked up about 5 times. I lost one very nice one by stupidly trying to stop a run by holding the line on the butt. At the end we were pressed for time to get to the heli pickup spot so my guide was trying a few casts while trudging through the river at a good clip. At one place he stopped and made several casts. On the last one a rainbow bigger than anything he or I have ever seen jumped all the way out of the river to try to eat the dry fly (cicada). He was so big we both were startled and almost lost some body fluid.

 

 Here was beautiful but no luck. If weather had come in and the chopper couldn’t land to pick us up, it was night in a shelter and waiting for better weather or an 8 day walk out. Luckily it was clear. I brought one chocolate bar to get through the night. (It melted but inside the package.) 

 For the third day (Friday Feb. 23) we went to Rotorua where the fish try to get out of the heated up water (it was COLD to me) in the lake by going up one of 4 creeks. We stopped at a place on the Awahou River where you can mostly just look at the stacked up fish in the creek. To fish those fish you had to go out into the lake which had drawn a crowd of anglers. Made me wonder why all those guys weren’t at work. We moved on to the Waititi River which has a deeper entrance from the lake. The fish were stacked there too. So were the anglers, so much so it reminded me of shad fishing on the banks for the James. Most everyone knew each other and all knew my guide. This was purely nymph fishing. I caught a couple that the guide hooked and then caught four or five on my own. One guy across the bank said “good hook set” and my guide said “nothing wrong with you reflexes”. It was a very satisfying day.

 

I saw a totally new way of flyfishing with the double flies rigged the opposite from the way we do it. Too hard to explain but might be worth a try on big water.

 One last note- the game police came by and checked everyone’s licenses. They were so nice and cordial. I asked the guy who checked me if you need to have a hook to be called fishing. He said if you have a rod capable of catching fish you are fishing. Good answer to an old question for me.

 

Fishing Journal for Wednesday April 10, 2024

 

Jay and I made a special request of Captain Mike to come out of shad fishing retirement to help with Jay’s rehabilitation from his fall in the fall of 2023.

It was a warm (60) cloudy day with the river reading high at 7 feet and pretty brown from recent rain. I had low expectations.

We got to the spot where we usually do very well. We started fishing at about 6:45. As usual I started with my spinning rod but no luck. I think there was too much current and it was right at the top of high tide.

At about 7 or 7:15 another pontoon boat pulled in extremely close to us on the downriver side. On board were the captain, a rotund guy in a gray sweatshirt (kind of like Bill Belichek), a boy who should have been in school and who looked very bored, a skinny old man in the stern (look who’s writing), and a somewhat younger guy in the bow with a UVA cap on. The captain did not seem to help the other two much- he was intent on catching and keeping Shad. The boy was there to throw the fish in the cooler. The captain basically was catching a fish on every cast.

Back to us- we started using a fly rod and were catching a few sporadically and had a great time watching the osprey and eagles. As we watched the other boat catch 10 fish to every one of ours, Mike theorized that we weren’t getting deep enough. He also observed the other captain was using a double dart rig. We switched and had slightly better success.

It was curious to see other boats come up alongside our rival. The other captain would offload a few fish to the other boats. We think the captain was selling his fish for catfish bait.

We quit at noon. A fun day with good but not great success.  Maybe 10-15 each. Jay had one American shad. We were not the “you should have been here yesterday” guys.

After lunch with Jay, I checked on our rival. He has a bit of a bad reputation with the catch and release guys because he keeps everything. I urged Captain Mike to get the Anglers Club to lobby for a daily creel limit and even emailed Game and Fisheries about a limit.

 

May 19-24 West Andros

 

C and I went to West Andros for a few days of fishing for me and relaxing for her. My first afternoon was a bust- murky and very hot (high 80s) water and wind. I was hoping to get all my usual mistakes out of the way this first afternoon, but we saw nothing for we to make mistakes on. The next day was pretty much the same- Kenny and I saw maybe 10 bonefish and caught one. In the afternoon we went snapper fishing and caught a few small ones. We also looked for tarpon at the mouth of a creek. I was just dragging my fly behind the skiff and a tarpon made a halfhearted pass at it. 

Tuesday was a banner day. We made the long run and caught 34, well on the way to a record, but a serious storm with lightning came up and we had to quit. The next day was a repeat except I had to get back early for a Zoom call and only caught 25. Another possible record day cut short.

 

 

 

For Thursday we decided to give the sweet spot a recovery day. The water was much clearer and the wind light. We fished around the island and caught 8. Back for lunch and then I went out paddling and wading. The only bonefish I saw came up on me from behind and I couldn't get the rod and the board in a good place to make a try for them.

Friday was our day to come home but the return  flights were late so I could get in an almost full day of fishing. The wind was light but it was very, very hot and the horse flies (Tabanus lineola) were vicious and relentless. They kept biting me on my fingers through my fishing gloves. They drew blood.

 

 

 

I ended up catching 24 but made every mistake possible (got back into trout striking for one). It coulda been another  contender for best day ever. 

Total 92. May not need to catch another bonefish for a while. 

East End Lodge, Grand Bahama June 11-15, 2024

And yet I did go bonefishing right after the previous trip.

 

 

I’ll skip the adventure of spending the night in the Miami airport due to a tropical disturbance over Freeport. I’ll skip losing the SarahBeth’s fishing rod in the airport and finding it the next day. I got here at last and have been stunned by what I’ve seen.

Dorian hit here in 2018 or 2019, flooding the island under 9 feet of water. Telephone poles snapped, roofs blew off, all the trees for the 45 minute ride to the lodge were dead. There are no more hotels or casino. Now I understand why there was only one flight available to catch here on American. The old modern airport is gone; now there is a shack for arrivals and a slightly better building for departures. Deep Water Cay did not rebuild but East End did.

EE Lodge is pretty basic. The rooms are spare but adequate. The skiffs are Dolphins and look new. The food is basic but good. They use a lot of Bonefish Tarpon Trust labeled items and give out the fish release hooks, with a floating key ring.

 

 

Today (I had about 1/3 of a day after I got here) I waded for a while and saw (with much difficulty) a few fish but had no luck. Rain, cloud, wind, thunder. Raining cats and dogs right now.

My guide and I then went poling and stumbled on a nice school of about 30 fish. I cast over them and into them. Each time we found them they were a little spookier. My guide was about 1/2 inch shy of saying “stupid cast”. They fish differently here- the guide wants me to put my rod tip in the water while I strip. If the boat is moving forward, that means my rod tip can get stuck in the sand. I’m stripping across grass and the fly catches on the grass so I can’t tell if I have a fish or not. I may have hooked one briefly. 

The fish here are generally a lot larger than those at Andros. I saw several that could have been ten pounders.

By the way Dorian even killed off the mangroves- the mangrove area looks like there has been a forest fire. They are all black.

Hoping tonight this stuff will clear and with some sun that my guide will be less excitable.

 The next couple of days at East End-

 

There is room for 14 anglers here but it is late in the season and there are only six. It turns out there were supposed to be 14 but the others couldn't get here due to weather. Myself and a regular from Florida (he leaves with me Friday and comes back next Wednesday!) are singles, then there are a younger pair of finance type friends from NY and a pair more my age from NC. All except I have been here multiple times. One guys claims to have been here 20+ times and has visited the staff’s homes. (He notes that they smile on the outside but cry inside since Dorian- no drywall, no appliances, and perhaps some missing roof.) Another of the repeat customers told me the way it used to look. He said the only thing that really survived the storm was the outdoor bar shack- wind and rain just blew thru it.

Here is a summary of bonefishing, pretty much anywhere I have been. The only difference between here and elsewhere has been the weather which amplified all the stresses below. One might ask why I find this fun- The typical day here but similar elsewhere is coffee at 6, breakfast at 7:15, depart for all day in the 16 foot skiff with the guide at 8:15. Packed lunch. Back at about 4:30 or 5. Recently I have chosen a simpler and simpler, lighter and lighter lunch and I hope I remember to explain why as the description goes on.

The land we fish around is generally scrubby keys. The burnt out scrubby keys are because of Hurricane Dorian. Actually, today, 6 years later, I noticed a key about 10 acres in size with nothing but dead mangroves and one live mangrove sprout. I have heard it said that there are 700 islands in the Bahamas. Well, here there are at least 7000 islets with trash washed up and bits of mangrove coming back as well as Australian pine.

When we leave the dock we run for 15-45 minutes until we get to a place where the tide and wind are good for fishing. This trip, there was no such place- with the die off from the flood and storm, the wind just blows straight through so there is no leeward shore to help with casting.

The bottom is sandy, or grassy, or rocky (coral bits), with 6 inch diameter whitish sandy mounds dug by worms, which are the prime target of the fish. If the bonefish have been feeding in the area, you see holes where the mounds were, and, if fresh, gray sand from the fish rooting.

As far as other wildlife, there are ocean birds and a few land birds; turtles popping their heads up and digging up the bottom with their fins; rays; ‘cudas, houndfish, and sand perch; and three kinds of shark- bonnet head, lemon, and nurse. Today we watched a couple of nurse sharks thrash around in some sort of mating dance.

Now the fun begins. The guide poles and looks for bonefish and the angler also tries to see the fish. Variable bits of time go by. The angler’s mind drifts. First toward the birds and the surroundings; then to whatever needs to be done back home; then just off in space, not quite asleep but not all there. This is one reason why a light lunch like peanut butter and jelly makes sense- so you will be less likely to fall asleep and drop your rod in the salt water, which is definitely bad form.

When the angler is most zoned out, the guide says fish at 10 o’clock. Where? Sometimes I even look off at 2 o’clock and a good natured guide will redirect me. The fish are approaching, swimming parallel to us, moving away, or running for another flat.

I make a cast right where I am directed to cast, generally, but it is blown by the wind, or short, or behind them, or too far in front of them. Or there is too much slack. My strip is too long or too short or too fast or too slow. The fish are long gone.

We see some more. This time I am somewhat excited and short arm the cast so the fly is caught on my rod. The fish are gone.

Time goes by. I am back in my zone, thinking about whatever. More fish show up, unseen by me. I false cast in preparation for the real cast which I expect to be perfect given all the coaching I have gotten. The waving of my rod in the air spooks the fish.

These fish really are nervous. A fishing line across the back makes them run. Too much of a plop from the fly landing in the water makes them run. A shark makes them run. An osprey overhead makes them run. My looking at them hard sends them off.

The ideal fish for me is one in very shallow water where I can see a flash from the sun striking his side and then see him nose down and tail up, a tailing fish. This is perfection and a sight to behold. To me this means his mind is on feeding and not on worrying about the angler in the boat sneaking up on him. But, the boat can grind on the shallow bottom, or the angler can make too big of a splash getting into the water to wade toward him.

The last of all these possible ways things can go wrong is that you (meaning me) can’t keep all the instructions straight in one’s head. Long cast, short cast, the clock directions, the tempo of the strip, getting the slack out, the long strip to set the hook.

So why do this? Because when you get lucky and things go right, or you encounter a particularly cooperative fish, it is an amazing thing to watch the hooked fish take off and your line go screaming off the reel as he streaks for open water, or, if you are less fortunate, for an exposed mangrove root. He may make two or three of these runs. Once he starts to tire, you can get him closer and closer to the boat but he still hasn’t given up. Fighting until you can release him, you just have so much respect for his effort. He has the well deserved nicknames- the “gray ghost of the flats” and the wily, elusive bonefish.

A couple of times during the daydream phase I started thinking about Bob Massie who had a massive heart attack while bonefishing, probably at Harbor Island, in 1964. He died in the skiff. That got me thinking about what if something goes wrong out here- like we are struck by lightning or bit by a shark or the guide has a heart attack or stroke. If the guide isn't available, how do in the world do I get back to the Lodge? Sure I can run an outboard (oh, but a dead outboard should be on the list of disastrous possibilities too) but which way? Gulp. Maybe this would be a good time for my guide to say "Bonefish 25 feet at 10 o'clock" to get me off thinking about this. 

July 14-20 Stillwater

 

The group was Jay, Bill S, TR, Mike S and me. RPG dropped out late. Guides were Tony, Chad and Keith. We also saw Doug in passing with some of his clients one day.

 

One angler went upriver to Moraine or Castle Rock to fish with Tony each day. It was very rocky but the fishing was good. Up top was my best morning but it abruptly cut off after lunch. The other floated from the lodge to Absorkee. That means we worked that section pretty hard but fishing held up. Each day the river dropped about 4 or 5 inches.

 

Saw a golden eagle. On the last night two hen turkeys and two broods of 4 babies roosted in a tree near the firepit.

Sunrise:

 

 

As usual food and company were excellent.  

July 30- Smallmouth with J and Brian on the Shenandoah, starting at Port Republic.

Low water, a little tainted. Slow start, but plenty of bluegills, redeyes, and even pfalfish. In the end I'd say we each caught about 20 smallmouth and had a lot of fun. Hot but a few drops of rain at the end. I want to go again.

November 8-10

Short version- none caught. But fun.

I went to 4 public landings on the Shenandoah- Shenandoah, Alma, one between Alma and Newport, and one in Alma. The water was low and super clear, but I could never find a good spot with the right water for fishing from shore. Lots of nips on my copper john, probably from smallmouth minnows but none caught. I talked to a spin fisherman in a kayak who caught a few smallmouth. I did manage to leave my crocs behind at the landing. I had that pair since 2006.

A couple of days later we were wandering in Luray. I went down to the Hawksbill Creek Greenway which runs along the creek in town with my Tenkara. It is a stocked stream, probably earlier in October. It is beautiful. The trout were jumping- little ones, maybe Brookies (does Va stock those? The sign on streamside said the max size to keep was 7 inches (??)). I had many bites but none caught. I think I needed a much smaller fly, but the Adams got the bites. I ended my fishing in a classic Tenkara way- I caught my back cast on a telephone wire and couldn't get it loose. I cut the line as high as I could reach and the tension sent the line high in the sky and it landed at my feet. Now I have to figure out how to tie two frayed ends of a braided line together.

Why I love the Tenkara- always something new to deal with.