My Brazos Fishing Adventure
I had been nagging Rob for weeks to come fly fishing with me. “Come on Rob- It will be fun!” I’d exclaim. I’d always get the same response.
“I can’t. I have to study.” Rob was pre-Med, and seemingly studied all the time. I often took upon myself the arduous task of making sure that he didn’t somehow become permanently attached to his Biology textbook, so I kept bugging. I also had an ulterior motive in that I had just gotten my fly rod for Christmas about a month before, and was new to the sport. I knew that Rob was a very experienced fly fisherman, who could help me catch those picky trout that I had failed to catch earlier.
One Tuesday we had both finished our classes early. I pulled out my usual hardcore persuasion tactics: “Come on, lets go. You need a break” and “It will be a sweet adventure. Come on.”
Rob looked at the floor in deep thought. I was optimistic because the slight hesitation was the most positive response I had gotten out of him in several weeks. He then looked up and said, “I guess I could use a little adventure.”
We grabbed our gear and drove out to the Brazos river below Possum Kingdom, about an hour and a half away from our school in Fort Worth, Texas. We parked and worked our way downstream, not having much success.
It was already late in the afternoon and rather cold when we crossed over to a large grassy island. We both immediately noticed numerous trout rising on the southern run. He landed a nice rainbow. Rob handed me a small elk hair caddis. I cast it in the shade of an overhanging bush and then, WHAM- a trout smacked my fly. I rose my rod tip too enthusiastically and jerked the fish completely out of the water. I reeled the fish in yelling, “I got one! I got one!” Rob gave me a look like he was embarrassed to be associated with me (I get that look a lot from him) but I couldn’t help myself; I was so excited about my first little trout. I admired the beautiful fish in my hands and got some beautiful trout fishing pictures of it before letting it go.
