Brought the boy up for one more fishing adventure before the high country season draws to a close.
We chose a familiar locale, convenient to aspens and cutthroats both.
Low water + fishing pressure the day before made for catching a good deal tougher than otherwise desired, we mostly tag-teamed each cast to make the best of it.
Dad casting in, the boy taking care of business from there on out.
|bringing the heat|
We landed some fine-enuf specimens, although not near what yesterday's lucky angler surely brought to hand. Well, I guess you gotta dance with the girl what brung ya, huh?
Catching aside, the fishing proved absolutely stellar, much as I had hoped for the lad. Temps up to around 70, not a breath of wind, endless cobalt skies capping the waves of brilliant gold cascading down the steep slopes. Sigh...a sight to behold alright.
Down below, the deep canyon remained in twilight all day, the sun cutting the rim but in a few places only.
Made finding the fly a chore in itself, our stalking constantly interrupted with '...can't see the fly, can you?....wait- is that it?...' from both of us in just about every pool.
It was gratifying to see the boy's skills progress,
...catch a familiar gleam in his eye as he recounted one tale or another from our last visit up this way.
For both of us, really.
I call that a day's good work, done.