The trip home was quiet and reflective. We didn’t speak much but when we did, it was to comment on the quiet beauty of the river and the unexpected but very welcome lack of anglers on what should have been a very busy holiday weekend.

We both agreed that a huge part of the appeal of fly-fishing is the discovery of the unexpected – sometimes it’s unexpected but obvious once you stumble upon it and other times it’s as fleeting and as elusive as crystal clear ice on a lonely, narrow mountain stream deep in the heart of a forest surrounded by millions of people.

I love this addiction called urban fly fishin’.

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4 comments on this post.
  1. Anonymous:

    Wow! Lookz really cold!

  2. Q:

    Is that a brown trout.

  3. Sean Fenner:

    It was. Alot of the water was iced over. But when the Sun came out it heated up quick.

  4. Sean Fenner:

    Beautiful fish aren’t they.

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