But my Yaris is fueled up, bags are packed and a new 9' 9wt fly rod, thanks to my friend Boz, sits in its tube in the hatch. The plan is to drive down the east coast picking up migrant fly fishing fools along the way.
First stop Emery St to find the elusive Jesse Lance Robbins, then on to Andover to pick up Dr. Keith Lane ESQ. I had not seen Jesse for close to 10 years, we went to high school together and played some basketball but since then I had only read about him and marveld at his photos.
There is a section of I95 from Bangor to Newport, ME that is only 21 miles long but contained 12 cars off the road, some in worst shape than others. I bomb southward thinking of fish and crowds.
You see, you hear that the Salmon River is crowded, that is all I heard when I told people I was going there.
"Oh, there will be tons of guys around", they said. Normally if I show up at a spot to fish in Maine and there is one other car there I think to myself, " oh man, some idiot has ruined my Saturday." I usually hope it is a stoner or some kids making out in the backseat of their parent's car and not someone else fly fishing that same pool of water. So I was in for a suprise.... in Pulaski.
So cut to the chase, did we drive all that way and catch some fish ? Well yes we did, there were guys fishing the Lower Fly with us who "caught" 60 or 70 more. I noticed that most of the fish that they caught had hooks sticking out of their fins or under bellies, but hey fishing is fishing I guess. Keith and Jesse managed to get the Steele to eat their flys, which brought amazement to the JIG fishers around us. My fish tried to take my fly but missed a little bit. It was small I know, I know, but it was my frist steele , look below for some cockers.