A river runs throught it.......and that water is COLD!

Now that I am unable to climb I have found a new diversion. Fly fishing. I took a course while attending SUNY Plattsburgh, and really just learned how to tie flies and got some casting practice in a field.

I need more practice.

I took Eric's advice and went to the middle fork of the Snoqualmie River. First I had to wander and figure out where exactly I should go to fish. After tromping through thick brush I finally made it to the river....and realized it was deep all around me. Far too deep and strong for me to wade into, even if I had waders. After a retreat and a walk down the dirt road, I found a more accessible location.

I wandered down and set up my rod, and tried to cast. Now, I wasn't bad when I practiced over a year ago, but I wasn't all that good either. I figured out a major difference on the river. There are trees here! It only took three casts before I had my fly wrapped around a branch, followed by another branch, and a rock. Yes, a rock. I even got my fly wrapped around the line somehow, becoming a tangled mess.

After an hour of tangles and snags, I finally started to develop a rhythm. I spent the next three hours up to my ankles in some extremely cold water, simply flicking the line back and forth.

Playing the fly across the slower moving portions of the water was enjoyable. I simply tried to imitate the motion of the little water scooters I have seen so many times throughout my life.

I spent a total of four hours on the water, trying to improve my skills. I lost two flies, and caught one stick. I saw one tiny tiny tiny fish try to attack my first fly. It was too small to even really get on the hook.

Despite not having many fish show up, it was a successful day. The rhythm of the line when it was flying through the air brought me to a peaceful place. I was alone on the water, enjoying the sound of the running river, focusing entirely on the movement of my arm, the rod, the line, and the minuscule fly thirty-five feet away from me.