Thankful Angler

I waded slowly up the side of the east prong of the Little River just the other day and decided to take a minute and rest on a long, flat shale boulder that loomed over a long, deep hole. The water was tea-colored, filled with tannic acid from the leaves falling in the cool Fall breeze. I spent the day scouting for large brown trout and taking a few chance casts to no avail. From my river side perch, I watched a fish or two rise and decided to abandon my hunt for large fish and stick with those small mountain trout that I felt confident I could fool.

After a quick fly change, I eased off my rock and into the water. The first cast landed beautifully on a sycamore leaf floating down toward the rising fish. I tried to ease the fly off the leaf and into the water, as I had read of other anglers using this as a technique to present flies to picky fish, and quickly discovered this to be an impossibility. It had not been my intentions, at all, to land the fly on that leaf nor had it been on the no-less-than two dozen other leaves I caught that day. It was just one of those frustrations of Fall fishing where leaves crowd the water as they fall from their trees.

One of those little rainbows eventually took a quick swipe at my small size 16 blue winged olive, and I quickly brought it to hand and sent him easily on his way. The very next cast brought yet another leaf. Distraught over my lack of success with big brown trout and frustrated with the leaves that seemed to be drawing my flies, I decided to call it a day.

Again, I took a seat on a streamside rock to snip my fly from the line. The pool ahead caught my eye and brought me to the decision to stay just a bit longer. The dark colored water I mentioned before was reflecting the beauty of the leaves that remained on the mountainside as well as the blue sky above. I could not leave that day, as I completely realized at that moment that it was not guaranteed I would ever get the chance to participate in that particular, completely unique, experience again.

Typically, reflections on a year in passing come at the end of the year when cold temperatures keep us huddled around the wood burning stove. However, in keeping with the spirit of the November season, a moment such as the one sitting frustrated on a streamside rock brings a great point to mind. We are fortunate to get to spend days enjoying the true beauty of southern Appalachia, but rarely take the time to sit on a rock and take it in.

Often, I overlook the true opportunity that I have to fish more than 800 miles of trout water in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park and surrounding tailwater and other river systems. There are days where I wish I had caught more or maybe bigger fish as well as days where I am disappointed and maybe even heartbroken when the big one gets away. However, I hope that I remain thankful for the opportunity that I have to fish and share with others the spectacular beauty of the resources we have at our backdoor.

Enjoy the season…

Small fish and big memories…
– Alex Quick, Fly Fishing Manager