I read a post on social media recently where an angler struggled to find the allure of fishing for wild brook trout. I thought of a quote I read that said “If, as I suspect trout fishing is somewhat of a disease, it is also somewhat of a therapy ….” I’ve certainly lived with the disease of trout fishing for more than half a century; always in pursuit of the therapeutic side, at other times just struggling with the disease. The disease in my experience has been a mixture of the elbow rubbing of the first day madness of my youth, the monotony of catching cookie cutter stockies, the all to closeness of a special regulation stream, and the carnival atmosphere of pursuing fall runners on a lake run river. While I’ve witnessed and wrestled with the disease in all of these forms, I truly struggle to find much of the therapy in those types of places and the fishing they offer anymore. The mountain streams and their smaller, wild fish certainly aren’t for everyone; but for me, I have found both the therapy and the disease present in equal measures on those quiet ribbons of cold water where the natives swim. It’s a fishing experience that doesn’t offer much for the hero or the hero shot, but offers up quiet and simple treasures and a healthy dose of therapy for those that go there. This week’s pic is one of those small mountain stream cathedrals. “I want to know that you’ll tell me,I love to stay …. take me to the river ……” Till next week …….
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