A Dream Remembered

When you wake from a dream that was so amazing that all you want to do is fall back asleep and continue to dream where reality seems to be too good to be true. This is how I felt after my last dose of the South Platte, I wanted to fall back into the water and continue to fish. So once again my sleep cycles were put aside in order to make it to the river before the sun was up. The only light shining upon the landscape was our headlamps beams that overpowered the full moon that hung over the glowing horizon. The morning was cold, ice dusted the planes and our breath froze the minute it hit the air. It felt good to fill the lungs with the crisp air, works better than a hot cup of coffee...I think? Andy, his twin brother Nate, and I walked quickly towards our hole in hopes of that dreamy fish.


As we rigged our rods the sun began to crest over the white mountains and the river began to steam in the long golden light. Within the first three casts boom, a nice brown. This first brown was followed by fish after fish after fish. The landing area became crowded with all of us hooking up. Just as quickly as the bit turned on it turned off, we warmed our wet cold hands, and broke ice from off our our rode guides.


The action continued to slow in the afternoon and then the bite was back, a hatch of beatis were erratically coming off and the fish were back. Another few nice ones and it was time to head out. Those few nice fish included two twenty three inchers and Andy managed to land a nice twenty-six inch female. Dreams do in fact come true. Until the season begins to change out of winter I will continue to stir in my sleep wanting more.