Another little rainbow was in the net in no time. I looked up to see if my dad was in ear shot, but couldn’t see him anywhere.
There was easily ten people stuffed into a small corner of the creek, and I hated to imagine how many more there were earlier. The funny thing about the creek is that there is no season on it. It is open year round. Yet people came by the truck loads to fish it during opening season, when in reality they could have fished the day before opening season and been one of the only people on the creek.
Sadly, my dad and I were stuck in the middle of the combat zone. I had three fish hit my suspended midge, but I wasn’t able to capitalize on the take.
Both my dad and I fished until we couldn’t see anymore, and then fished a little longer. By the time we decided it was time to go, we were the last one on the creek. I was surprised my dad lasted as long as he did without a single complaint of how cold it had gotten, but he did... perhaps he is starting to get the hang of fly fishing after all.