Wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and a Happy and Safe New Year!
Signs Of Healing
While most of us have been dealing with the unfathomable tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary and the ongoing media frenzy, the local town of Monroe stepped up and offered to let the Sandy Hook Elementary students use its Chalk Hill School for the returning students.
Based on the efforts of both towns and a bunch of volunteers, the school will open January 3rd. From what I understand, they have tried to replicate the Sandy Hook Elementary classrooms when possible.
I pass the Chalk Hill School on my way to work. Here are a few pictures of some of the signs that I see along the way. They remind us that we are part of a much larger community and that we are stronger than the challenges we face.
Thank you Monroe for caring for our town and all the volunteers who helped make this happen so quickly. Merry Christmas!
Mill Pond At Dusk
As the days get shorter and the temperatures drop dramatically, so do the opportunities to wet a line. When you factor in the attempt to balance work, family and home responsibilities, you find that your only real fishing option is to spend a few minutes on a local stream or pond. Today was a perfect example.
Finding a free hour in my schedule, I made my first visit to the local mill pond, which lies along a dirt road less than a mile from my house. Small, tree lined with limited parking, it doesn’t exactly lend itself to fly fishing from the bank, but holds promise for a return trip with the kayak.
I took a 9′ 5 wt along with my Wind River reel. The pond was surrounded by forest and brush, so no real opportunity for a full backcast. I found myself frequently roll casting, so the length came in handy. For the first few casts I tied on a green and yellow frog popper. Having no luck, I switched back to the same mustard colored popper that I used a few weeks ago to catch bass in a NJ river.
After finding a spot closer to the lilly pads, I picked up this nice thick bream. He put up a good fight. At one point I thought he broke off in the weeds, but I brought him to hand shortly after.
I only stayed for a few more casts. The sun was quickly setting and the temperatures dropped noticeably. That said, it was still good to get out, even for a few minutes.
Hope you’re taking advantage of those last few opportunities as well. Happy Thanksgiving to All! Enjoy!
A Cast Too Far
Today I spent time on new water. A nice spot just above a small dam. The air was cool and damp, with only an hour of sunlight left. No one else around. It was all mine.
The pool was like glass, pierced periodically by the small ripples created by a feeding fish and a small trail of foam. Then I saw the tail. This was no minnow, chub or sunfish. This had potential.
I sent the dry fly towards the fish. Coming up short, I let it drift. Second cast was closer, but still shy of the rise. The third was on target, but while stepping forward to confirm my cast, I quickly sank up to my knees in soft mud, losing my balance and falling backwards into the muck in a seated position. Cold water began to seep into my waders as I struggled to free my legs and regain balance.
Sensing that standing up would only result in greater constriction, I humbly crawled to the river bank, feeling the full effect of the intruding river water.
Common sense would have dictated a return the car and a change of clothes, but the promise of solitary fishing and new water pushed me to explore two adjacent spots, wet shirt and jeans still clinging to me. Sadly I returned to the car with soggy clothes and no success.
Driving home I found a stretch of water that is less than knee deep and has a rocky but solid bottom. We’ll see how it goes. Enjoy!
Travels with Keuka
I’ve been listening to the audiobook of John Steinbeck’s Travels with Charley: In Search of America on my weekly drive between New Jersey and Connecticut. The book is a travelogue of Steinbeck’s 1960 road trip across America in his camper truck Rocinante, accompanied by his standard french poodle Charley.
In addition to the story line and great writing, what struck me most is Steinbeck’s enjoyment of sharing his experiences with Charley. It would not have been the same trip without him, even though traveling with a dog meant extra supplies, more bathroom breaks and a couple of unplanned visits to the vet.
Which brings me to our family’s new traveling companion. We recently adopted Keuka, a Boston Terrier – Jack Russell mix puppy from a shelter in Arkansas. While she’s relatively new to us, she’s been a quick study on potty training and basic obedience commands. Both of my daughters are working with her, a real treat for them.
How we got her was also an adventure. This past April, I woke up at 4 am on a Saturday, and, without the benefit of coffee, drove a few towns over to meet the puppy transport en route from the shelter where we adopted her. I stood in the darkness of a hotel parking lot with a few other adoptive families, waiting for the transport. A nice dual-axle diesel truck pulled up, towing what looked like a large temperature-controlled horse trailer, maybe a portable vet clinic. After giving some of the other families their puppies, the driver came out with Keuka and handed her to me along with her folder of vet records. At that point she was about 8 weeks old.
I held her for a few minutes and waited for her to stop shivering, then placed her in the soft sided carrier for the ride home. As luck would have it, the zipper to the carrier was not secure and she broke free right as I was turning on to the entrance ramp of I-80. I quickly scooped her up and held her like a football in one arm until I got home. During the trip she remained still, looking out the driver’s side window at the lights from the passing cars.
As I pulled into the garage I noted that it was one of the rare times I saw my wife up at 6 am. She was waiting at the door to the house and ran down the steps to hold the puppy. My kids soon appeared and we all ended up in the backyard playing with Keuka well before 7 am. As luck would have it, it was also my daughter’s birthday, so Keuka was “socialized” for much of the day by a number of 7-year old girls and their mothers.
Keuka is named for Keuka Lake, one of New York State’s Finger Lakes, where my wife spent a few summers during her childhood. We’ve returned there a couple of times for family vacations of our own and hope to do so next year.
I wouldn’t describe Keuka as a water dog. Whenever we put her in the pool she immediately heads for the steps, climbs out and curls up on one of the patio chairs. That said, I could see her as a fishing companion for canoe trips, and possibly some pond and lake fishing. Enjoy!
