The Nissi was a tough experience. I was nymphing a run, and a guy with worms walked over and started casting downstream of me, about ten feet away. He said he had been there earlier and landed three fish. Then, he moved upstream of me, again, about ten feet away.
Then, the inevitable happened: our lines crossed and became tangled.
So, I pulled in my line, untangled us, clipped off my flies, unraveled my knotted tippet, reeled in, walked away, and let him have the run to himself. I don’t think he crowded me out on purpose, but, then again, he didn’t seem that apologetic.
Combat fishing at its finest.
I headed to the Squanna. It was a little better. I fished a stretch with a lot of turbulent water, and so, there were very few bait fishermen there. A guide and two clients cut me off, just as I was about to start fishing a gorgeous bend. I was a little irked, but I’m actually OK with that: I know guides are there to make a living.
So, I worked around them. It was a small moment of victory when the clients didn’t catch anything, and I hooked quite a few fish.
I guess all this is par for the course when spring rolls around and the stocking schedule is posted online. Honestly, I’m looking forward to July, when the trout are more educated and the crowds thin out.
First World problems, I know….