Sep 15 2009 10:31 pm

the dream stream

The little pike followed the big fly to my feet.  I twitched it once and he slammed it.  A bunch of little pike followed.  Good times.  The wind tore across Spinney Lake.  I was throwing the eight weight with a sink tip.  I walked out to the point and cast as far as I could with the wind into the big lake.  I counted the fly down a few seconds and began with the rod tip/hand strip retrieve.  About half way back something ate it hard.  I thought, sweet, that’s a nice piker.  But this fish was trying to run.  I muscled him in on the big rod and when he got close I saw it wasn’t a pike.  It was a slabby rainbow with a big fat mouth.


There were signs everywhere telling anglers to harvest small pike.  Probably eating up the small trout.  I tell you what, I tell you them small pike had better watch out for this big rainbow.

The Dream Stream is a cool fishery.  Sure, it can be crowded, and really windy, but lots of fish, big fish, and they aren’t spooky and they eat.  Caught a few nice fish including a big cutthroat.  Even the small fish are fat. 


Then there was Gracie.


Michael is the picture of physical fitness.  He insisted on doing 20 one-handed pushups every twenty minutes while we fished.  Thought it was kind of weird but you don’t get that ripped drinking beer and masturbating.  He wanted to arm wrestle and actually punched me in the face once when he was all jazzed up on what I can only assume was amphetamines, yelling about Sex Dungeons and the 14” rainbows that eat them.    

We fished only streamers.  Except for the hour or so when we threw mouse patterns under the full moon to no avail. 

Gracie’s the man.  He brought beer.  


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