I learned of the term “Walkabout's” from Jimmy Buffets first book “Tales of Margaritaville.” Tully Mars and his ensuing Walkabout played a major role in Jimmy's first book as a wandering soul escaping from the absurdity of ranch life that had gone mad. Later I learned of the Australian origins of the term Walkabout. Since then I've always felt that Walkabout's fit nicely into the world of fly fishing and our journey in life chasing fish across our planet with a wisp of feather and tread.
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Not a Good Day
One of my first days out in a while proved to sour my attitude towards those who I share our water resources with. It's not often that a day on the water will taint my mood. It was what I would call a perfect day; our power was out from steady rains and wind, knowing that I wouldn't get much work done I headed out to possibly catch a trout or two and the Blue Wings. These are the days that are worth fishing since weather of any kind tends to really keep the traffic down. One thing that mayflies and I have in common, most mayflies, is we prefer some weather to the fair blue skies overhead.
I headed to a small spring creek that joins the Provo River. Lately this section has been fairly crowded, but today there was only one other car here. Quickly donning waders and putting the finishing touches to stringing my rod I head to the water. Before I got to the rivers edge the litter strewn about had distracted my purpose. As the day progresses, which was short lived, matters seemed to get worse. My attitude definitely did.
Moving up current, a fair number of discarded bait containers littered the bank. Strands of mono lay twisted and tangled in the brush. Beer and pop cans added to the mess. The dead Mallard lying in the mud however is what finally did me in.
You would think that all anglers would appreciate the privileged of fishing such and incredible resource as this, or any for that matter given they are becoming more difficult to access. Today as users scream for access however, I seem to find more and more areas of such abuse. We don’t deserve to have access to such incredible resources as this if we are to threat them as such. The old adage; one doesn’t appreciate what one has until it is taken away. It’s frustrating that in this day and age we still have such attitudes and tolerate such practices.
To try and salvage my sour mood, I hit a little hippie bakery in Heber for a good cup of coffee and a fresh warm scone. It helped.
My next walkabout is to Key West. May is tarpon season and like their migration a group of us from Salt Lake follow them to the southern most region of the US. Having made this trip now for 7-8 years you would think I would start to figure them out. Like steelhead, another migratory fish that I follow, their habits and behavior can be elusive and mystical. I can't wait to go. It's one of the few times that I use a motor when fishing. The morning runs under a sky of starts is always exhilarating.
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