Earlier this week I headed out to fish a nice wild trout stream. What greeted me upon reaching the stream was a sight to make a grown man cry. I had hiked 3 steep, could, trail-less mile to fish a stretch of ice with tiny patches of open water. I cast into one briefly but decide just to go wander around in the woods. I did get to partake in a conversation between two bard owls and myself. It was quite long.
Today was to be much warmer, and I assumed that snow melt would bring up water levels and in turn break up the ice. I had assumed correctly. I fished a portion up stream from where I had previously been. The water looked perfect, but it was just not to be. I landed no fish Czech nymphing from the top of a big rock.