Brookies GONE WILD!!! - 05/15/04
Well this was started with an unexpected trip from my brother, down from Alaska two weeks ago (parents had no clue until they came out to the shop to see "my turkey" I had got that am.) ......any way, after spending a week with the parents, we meet to pick him up for our week and I had planned to fish some where, some time with him.....Thursday, the 22, we find ourselves trying to plan where to go. We had previously decided to go some where for the day and by 10:30 that night we were loading our packs for an overnighter....my brother kept saying how the spur of the moments trips were always good ones...we finish up by 2:30a and thought of going then but thought better to get acouple of hours of sleep and then go....5:30 comes and we are pumped and gone by 6:15a.....still not sure of our destination, but we are headed towards N.C. Well, to make a long story a little shorter, after going up I85 and fiding ourselves at the S.C. border we quickley meander the truck back towards Brevard NC and arrive at shining rock wildnerness parking around 3:00p (a couple of hours sleep and two brothers talking and catching up can have its toll on staying on track)....we had decided to do wilderness in the canopy instead of the option of graveyard ridge....I had done this hike once before with a friend last year and loved it and knew we couldn't go wrong....It was a great afternoon with almost a fall feeling in the air, especially after not seeing the abundent spring growth like we are already having a little further south.....and this time the rythem of the water disapearing from our ears was not as worrying as before but the sound of it coming back, as we crest that last rise, was every bit as welcoming as coming home to an old friend.....We trodded on to another camp site that friend and I had spotted before....only an hour and ten minutes..... we had camp pitched and waders on and in the water by 4:30p......I had first fish on out of the first pool..a nice fiesty bow about 8" and the rest is history....my brother soon followed with a brook and then me with a brook....between 4:30 and 7:30 there was no stopping the brookies....I caught one pit bull brook, a new breed, you know that pulls like a pounder but ends up being a 5 incher....I still have smile lines on my face a week later(Dick I can now just about draw a line where those brookies start) I did manage to hook about a 10 - 11incher which landed himself in a saddle of a rock at my feet but not to hand...My brother and I was in awe of him...We were in wild brookie heaven and catching them like mad and pausing every time to be thankful and blessed for this opportunity, not just for the fishing but for each other and this memory that was being etched in our minds as we stood there basking in the moment...I truly love my brother and cherish our relationship because we have one that I hope all brothers have.....
He finally slips and bangs his knee on a rock and we DO know how to recognize a sign...so we head back to camp to snack on some venison, cheese, crackers, and have a GREAT fire while we proceed to sip bourbon mixed with the oak toned waters and savor a fine cigar(natural-drew estate)....we talk of family, God, hunting, fishing, ...and the silence and the stillness with the trees, stars and cresent moon, eventually fall all around us and that ends in a blissful sleep by the stream......
The next morning the fish are still coming to hand as we chose to fish lower elevation but not as frequent as the day before....no browns were produced but more rainbows were and as we fished our way back to camp we couldn't help but noticed why it is so much nicer to fish on a week day...it was Sat now and the other fishermen and hikers were out....we break camp, police the area and head to yellow stone prong and were treated with more little fierce fighters from the brookies there..I lost count of the fish on the first day...again alot of traffic so we pack up and stop at sagebrush for a bite before the long trek home....
The spur of the moments trips are always good........Boots
He finally slips and bangs his knee on a rock and we DO know how to recognize a sign...so we head back to camp to snack on some venison, cheese, crackers, and have a GREAT fire while we proceed to sip bourbon mixed with the oak toned waters and savor a fine cigar(natural-drew estate)....we talk of family, God, hunting, fishing, ...and the silence and the stillness with the trees, stars and cresent moon, eventually fall all around us and that ends in a blissful sleep by the stream......
The next morning the fish are still coming to hand as we chose to fish lower elevation but not as frequent as the day before....no browns were produced but more rainbows were and as we fished our way back to camp we couldn't help but noticed why it is so much nicer to fish on a week day...it was Sat now and the other fishermen and hikers were out....we break camp, police the area and head to yellow stone prong and were treated with more little fierce fighters from the brookies there..I lost count of the fish on the first day...again alot of traffic so we pack up and stop at sagebrush for a bite before the long trek home....
The spur of the moments trips are always good........Boots