Skunked

After weeks of preparation, I finally made it up to Flagstaff to fish for northern pike in Upper Lake Mary. Actually, it wasn't so much weeks of preparation as it was weeks of anticipation.

Preparation implies that I would have found out if the aquatic plants in the lake's inlet were already growing, providing cover to spawning yellow perch and similarly, to the pike feeding on them. Preparation implies I would have checked my waders for leaks before I left. Preparation implies I should have practiced my flycasting - and especially the double-haul technique - after not having done it for 8 years. There were midges flying around and, as the day warmed, fish of some sort began rising to them. I did bring a 6-weight fly rod in the event the pike weren't biting, though preparation might have resulted in having brought my teeny-tiny trout flies so I could have cast midge imitations to those fish.

But, despite wading around for 2 hours with water seeping into my waders, piling up bad cast after bad cast, watching fish snatching little dipterans from the surface, and knowing I would be fishing but not catching, the whole trip ended up being wonderful. For one, the weather was perfect and I wasn't suffering the early-season heat in Tucson. An osprey - always a great bird to see - circled over me repeatedly. For what it was worth, it wasn't catching any fish either. And the hike back to my truck was a nice resistance workout, given the considerable weight of the water that had filled my waders and soaked my socks and jeans.

After bagging on the fishing part, I ended up walking around downtown, checking out the bike shops and the flyfishing store which, unfortunately, was in the process of going out of business. I hung out at the reopened Bookman's and had the best white chocolate mocha of my life at the cafe'. I dropped by an old friend's house one night for beers. I hiked the Flagstaff Urban Trail System which, in an unexpected coincidence, went right by the hotel in which I stayed.

As an aside, I was not surprised to see a smattering of hipsters rolling around on fixies. NAU students are as susceptible to fads as anyone else. What I didn't expect to see was an appreciable number of long-travel, dual crown-forked BIG bikes being used as campus commuters. I kinda' wished I'd brought a mountain bike but then again, this was a fishing trip and I wrongly assumed the trails would be too muddy. Also, bringing a bike would have doubled the gear requirements and, given my aforementioned lack of preparation, I probably would have forgotten my cleats or left the front wheel at home anyway.

At least I now know what I'll need to do the next time I head up north. I'll check my replacement waders for leaks ahead of time. I'll bring light fly tackle even if I don't think I'll be trout fishing. Actually, I should have known better because, as a teenager, I vowed that I would always bring light tackle with me on every trip - just in case the big ones weren't biting. I should also have a shell for the truck by then, so there will be somewhere to secure the bikes while out adventuring. Lastly, and most importantly, I won't be going solo like I did this time. The hotel allowed dogs, which means BeanSS won't have to be stuck dogsitting Clayton and Dora back in Baja Arizona.

Now do I sound prepared?