Best Day

by Lee S. Wilbur

Austin dropped by camp the day before. Said he’d been talking with another local fishing friend who’d been trolling and gone on to say how many trout and salmon he’d boated. What were chances we could wet a few lines the coming Sunday?

Didn’t have to think on that proposal too long, considering AJ and I had done nothing but work since getting home from Florida mid-May. Course, I asked politely if we had anything scheduled first and with a thumbs up OK, Austin said “7 AM”...I’d be ready.

Austin, younger than I by some twenty-odd years is a great guy to fish with. He lives and breathes for fishing. Tell fishing stories and discuss tackle for hours. I’d hazard to say he’s got more first hand tales than anyone I’ve ever been fortunate enough to chase fish with. Not only does he have the stories, he can reel off what the weather was, lure used, and if pressed the depth of water. Great fun.

Sunday morning dawned. Grey overcast with wisps of fog drifting over and around through the trees. Six AM, I rolled out of bed, dressed, ate a hasty breakfast and managed a half cup of tea. Grabbed my rod and a ziplock with a few favorite lures, looked up the hill as Austin swung into the roundturn at exactly 6:45. He was early, and ready to catch some trout.

Wasn’t a car in the parking lot when we got there. At that hour we were well ahead of any morning activities. Launched, parked the truck and trailer, managed to get aboard without getting the feet too wet and shoved off into the gray morning. Fog had lowered somewhat, gathered in places, but still hanging around thirty feet off the water with some intermittent flashes of brighter grey. Perfect weather for chasing trout and salmon.

Offshore about 50 yards, we let out our lines. Austin was fishing a bamboo trolling rod, with deep water reel and his favorite combination of spinners and lure. I seldom fish heavy gear, opting that morning for a topwater spinning rod and a Rapala “baby salmon” which would work about 5-10' below the surface with a lot of line out.

Nestled on the stern of the old 14' MFG “Challenger” I’d sold Austin a few years ago appeared to be a new Mercury outboard. Motor was extremely quiet and just a real pleasure. Could easily talk without raising one’s voice as we swapped stories and caught up on summer’s events, what fishing we’d each been able to accomplish, who we’d seen on the lake, and what was going on with the “mystery” fisherman and his light blue, heavily rigged boat, who for some years we’d see coming back up the lake after fishing down between the mountains for salmon. Austin said he’d talked with him off and on, but fishing wasn’t great and he’d moved on.

We’d made a circle, staying off shore some 50 yards. Fog seemed to be lifting a tad, though there was still enough cold in the air to chill my aging bones when I got the first strike.

“Got one on!”

I stood up slow and careful, set the hook gently, even though this guy had slammed my lure. Austin immediately slipped the motor into neutral. This was a good sized trout and it was letting whoever was on the other end know with no uncertainty this was a fight to the finish. Let the better of us be the winner. I’d have to play well, keep the tension on, let it run off a bit, but always coax him back toward the boat.

Playing an exciting fish like this can seem like time reels off when it’s in actuality a only a few minutes. But, those few are filled as any fisherman, commercial or pleasure, knows of a heart pounding thrill unlike any other. The strike as a fish leaps or runs off underwater. The careful, slow reel with the attendant shaking drag of a living creature trying to get loose. Your own emotions. Losing it, one’s manhood, one’s standing for the day is diminished. Losing this one may be your last, may be the only one. No opportunity to walk into the house to say “Fish for dinner Dear!” and revel in the smile and congratulations.

Luck plays what I’ve always termed a major role in fishing. Time of year, weather, sunlight, time of day, depth and temperature of water, lures, and others to subtle to mention all tumble together to decide whether this is a successful day, a “skunker” or just another day out in God’s great outdoors. Today was our day. The variables all came together.

With exceptional care, Austin slid the net under the fish and brought it aboard. Gorgeous 16 3/8" trout weighing just shy of 2 lbs. Big smile.

We quick had the boat underway again and “Wham.” I had a second one on and as I’m reeling, Austin’s unattended rod starts singing. We’ve got two fish on and both fish none too excited about joining us in the boat. What a “Hooraw”. We’re reeling, giving each other advice, helping in one handed way the other net his fish. Get both fish in. Accomplish an underway quick as possible with lines flying out again, realizing “this may be the day.”

And so it was. We caught a total of 8 gorgeous, beautiful, trout and one salmon, keeping only our legal limit of two fish each.

We had “bragging” rights that day and agreed in a kind of grudging, not wanting to be too overly enthusiastic or generous, this was “The Best Fishing Day” either of us had ever experienced!!

• R E C I P E •

(of sorts) from AJ

Take one of your favorite fresh water fish such as trout or salmon. Filet, removing the bones and head, leaving the skin on one side of each filet. Heat your frying pan to medium/high and cut in a generous amount of salted butter. Let the butter bubble for just a bit and slide in the filets skin side up. Fry for about a minute or so and flip, cooking this side until the filet is fork tender. This method is so good that we often end up eating the skin as well as the fish.

Fair Winds and Good Roads
– Lee Wilbur