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Fishin’ Crazy

April 13, 2017

April, 2, 2017

Okay, so my real plan on March 30, 2017, was to go to the Rush River thinking it would be less crowded on a weekday.  Unfortunately, that plan fizzled due to an unnecessarily long meeting, and I made a quick pit stop at the “Swinging Gate” on the Kinni.

Still, the need to fish the Rush burned in my mind and so I found myself crawling out of bed at about 5:30 a.m. to make the journey. Plus, I pulled my boat out of storage yesterday and thought I better squeeze in one more fly fishing excursion before I start plying the local waters for warm water species.

A nice, mild morning, the day broke cloudy.  Along the way I spotted a herd of six deer and a turkey strutting by the side of the highway.   It was peaceful and all, but I found myself thinking I’m crazy.  I mean; normal people are in bed. Sleeping.  They aren’t tossing and turning for a couple of hours in advance of their predetermined wake up time wondering what runs, riffles and pools to fish, or which spot to park at.  And then, catch a fish and what do you do? Eat it for survival? Use it to cure a cold? Nope, let it go and try to catch another one.  That’s crazy dude.

A few days ago I read an article by Michael Caranci entitled “Sultry Seductress” in the recent issue of This Is Fly, a great online fishing magazine by the way.  In the article, Caranci relates his travels and fishing success on the Savan River and leaves us with the quote that “once you experience what she has to offer, you will only want more.”  Hooked. Been there. I know I’m not fishing the Savan, but I get it.  I’m hooked.  Hooked on fishing. Can’t get it off my mind. Gotta’ be on the water. I want more.

Rocking out to Guns and Roses, I’ve got it: I’m Fishin’ Crazy.

I suppose there are worse habits.  Fishing, while looked down upon by some, does not hold the stigma of other social evils and generally won’t get you shot, leave you face down in an alley, or behind bars.  Thank goodness my wife tolerates the insanity.  I think my kids still respect my fishing endeavors. Although, they tell me I’m crazy when I ask them if they want to get up with me at 5:30 a.m.

Seven a.m. I arrive at the Rush and…there is another fisherman here.  While surprised, I am also relieved.  Relieved that I’m not the only nut job out here in waders, trying to catch whatever it is we are fishing for, only to let it go and try to catch it again.

The catching is a little less regular than I hoped, but I do catch ten fish, with a Griffith’s Gnat and BWO soft hackle dropper being the most productive.  I discover some new spots and file them away in the vault.

Fishin’ Crazy

Ooooh, you know you are

you’re fishin’ crazy, ooh yeah





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