Leaky Faucet

Written by Mike on July 1st, 2010

Not only is there no God, but try finding a plumber on Sunday.

-Woody Allen


A leaky faucet. Sometimes you can tune out the constant drip, but it is always there reminding you. Other times the drops crash out like drum cymbals rising above the din.


Fishing holes can beĀ  like this too. Maybe it is a lake you had some success at or maybe it is a section of stream which haunts you. You may not always be thinking of them, but they are lying in wait – ready to pounceĀ  to the forefront when your mind wanders.


I have a leaky faucet of a stream. Idle thoughts turn to plots of a return. It is not the most scenic water nor are the fish the biggest. Yet they are all stream bred and opportunistic feeders. A dry fly of just about any pattern will usually work and, maybe best of all, you are unlikely to see another angler. This is the kind of place which remains unnamed.

Plunge Pool

Last weekend Matt and I had the chance to relieve the incessant drip with a return trip.

The water was low and clear making the fish a little more spooky than usual. We also found that many of the pools from the past year had filled in with high flows. Sadly, all the beaver dams had been scoured away.

Of course that did not stop us. We hiked our way along still finding a few spots to fish. Staying in the shadows as much and possible, while keeping low we threw caddis, hoppers, cicadas, and even Wulff patterns. All caught fish.

Freestone Stream

It was nice to return. And like the beavers, we will be back. The dripping won’t let us forget.

Hand-sized Streambred



1 Comments so far ↓

  1. Cactus Mike says:

    drip, drip, drip.
    sometimes it is not a leaky faucet.
    sometimes it is just the sound creeping up from the back of your neck while you try to remember all those things that catch fish:
    one backcast;
    stop at 1:00;
    watch that dry fly land exactly where you want it;
    wait for it…wait for it…
    …don’t set it too soon.

    But the voices slowly fade away as slowly, throughout the day, from one fabulous hole to the next, sneaking up on them more quiet than a shadow, placing the fly in perfectly regardless of brook, branch, or rock…again…
    …and waiting for it;
    waiting for it.

    Sometimes it is about putting in your time and enjoying the day with a friend. That’s all.

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