I was determined to find a place where I could fly fish for salmon alone. Two plane rides later I was in Anchorage. One float plane took me to the perfect spot. I set up camp near the river that night and the next day went fishing early in the morning. It was cold, quiet, serene, beautiful. I made a few long casts with a favorite streamer pattern and a large salmon took it. Fighting hard, it surfaced and tail-walked across the top of the water. The noise it made was surprising in that quiet setting. The bigger surprise was a noise behind me. Someone was thrashing through the tall grass. Shit! Probably another fucking fisherman coming to spoil the moment. I turned around to give him a ddirty look and my best scowl. That was the last thing I remember...
No comments:
Post a Comment