Ice in the Guides

Posted on December 8, 2013


And Guide in the Ice

Today, I got up when I usually get up, drove for as long as I usually drive, but instead of ending up in a cubicle, I ended up at the headwaters of a North Cascades river, so close to Eastern Washington, we could’ve walked across the divide, looking over the edge of a bridge at a huge steelhead and a couple of silvers. Every dozen casts you had to clear the ice out of the guides because the line was frozen to the rod, and god forbid I catch a big fish as you had to drop the reel in the water to thaw it if you wanted to strip any line. I fished as long as I normally work, and got home when I normally get home. It was 22F, but the beer on the porch wasn’t frozen.

And I saw trout. And I saw steelhead. And I saw salmon. And Eagles. And I fished the new rod I made (and broke it). And I saw uber-guide Davey (Primal Angler)  pull out a nice bull trout which I probably could do too if I wasn’t such an unmitigated bastard and insisted on swinging all the time. But at the end of the day, I did enjoy cleaning the guides one last time, taking off the lead-eyed bunny leech, and hucking some sweet casts with a classic black-nosed dace wet fly. One bull even followed it across the pool. Can’t do that with a nymphing rig.

And I have to wonder if I can do that in every 8-hour day how can we justify the time we spend toiling under the paper mountain?