![]() ![]() The sort of friend that you have spent an inordinate amount of time with, pursuing the fish and fishing what every new river offers. This week, I’ve had a few days off, and good thing too, cause my oldest and dearest fishing buddy is in town. Stalking consistently large Browns on foot, with dry flies is…well, the champagne of fishing. A golden nose which pierces the surface with no sense of urgency, but a powerful sense of purpose is why I hold these critters so dear. The slow and deliberate rise of a large brown trout shall send your knees to shuddering. Each brown trout more beautiful than the next. I honed my fishing chops on little wild Browns that average about nine inches. ![]() And it was not always the size of the brown trout that attracted me, but the general difficulty experienced when stalking them. It has always been at the zenith of my piscatorial preference. I speak, of course, of the mighty Brown Trout. ![]() Perhaps a more apt moniker would be deep bronze, or burnt butter, or invariably beautiful. The word brown falls pitifully short when describing these stream kings. Their habits are clandestine, their legend strong, and their choice in living accommodations impeccable. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Details
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |