A Good Kind of Tired

You know…there are lots of different kinds of tired; fact is that when I was a kid roaming around my grandparent’s farm in Stanford-I’d often just stop, drop and nap. We had an old farm dog named Cricket (she lived to be 23 years old) and she and I would take off on daily journeys much like the youngest boy in Old Yeller. When I got tired I would just curl up, snooze a bit and in a few minutes I was once again back at it…catching a fish or shooting something. It was a long time ago but those ‘power-naps’ were some of the best sleep I ever had.

This past January and February found me a totally different kind of tired; I had my shoulder repaired surgically in mid-January and when combined with a long, snowy, cold, crappy winter…well, let’s just say that I don’t wish to do that again. I was simply tired of sitting around, pacing like a caged animal-looking out of my window at the snow, etc… Seems like I hear about a good many folks today that are much the same kind of tired. Truth is I think we have lost our connection to the outdoors. We need to get off the couch, put away the phones, etc…And go take a long walk.

Sunday, September 7 found me and Frank Terkhorn taking just such a long walk. I met Frank at 11am which was as quick as I could get from church to south of Bloomington. I dropped Frank off about 3 miles upstream then proceeded on north about another two miles where I parked my Yukon, grabbed my 3-weight fly rod…and headed back downstream.

The water was clear and up about 6 inches; before I even made it to the water I looked into a deep pool and could see several sunfish jetting from place to place…and right beside them was a large smallie, sitting and idling in the slack water. For a moment I felt like I was sneaking along the clear waters of New Zealand, stalking a big brown trout…trying to formulate a plan and an idea of how to catch this trophy. I went upstream and cautiously entered the water making sure that my dirt trail wouldn’t pollute the water below me. Being that this portion of the stream was all gravel…I was good to go but believe me-the smart ones, which are also the big ones, they will and do know when that dirt trail comes sliding through…something is wrong! I stripped out about 25 foot of line and made a cross stream casts allowing the small crayfish pattern to float and tumble into the pool. Now here is where I’d love to tell you that I caught and landed a bruiser of a smallmouth…that didn’t happen. One of those pesky sunfish (with a mouth just barely big enough to eat my fly) flew out and gobbled up my offering. That was all the big fish needed as the commotion within the pool sent him slinking off to his dark lair.

Downstream I went and picked up sunfish, warmouth, rock bass and a few smallies along the way…all while taking in one of the most beautiful arrays of scenery that Indiana has to offer. I love to catch big fish but on this day the fishing took second place to the 70 degree air temps, the moving and gurgling of the cold, clear water…and the greenness of Mother Earth. I don’t think I can remember another year where it has stayed so lush the entire summer and along the streams the flowers have bloomed, adorning what is already a spectacular view.

It took me about two hours but eventually I came around a bend in the stream and there before me was Frank. He didn’t know I was there and thus I was able to snap a few photos of him casting and stripping his fly line. Casting a fly line is simply a pretty thing to watch. It’s rhythmical and symmetrical; the line being pulled backward into a flattened ‘P’ before accelerating forward into a backward ‘P’…the fly shooting forward towards the target until it gently lays down upon or into the water. I watched for a few seconds until I felt a jab on the end of my line and another rock bass had decided to feast upon my own offering.

On the day I caught lots of fish; I even caught one nice smallie of about 14 inches that was holding in a deep pool just under a riffle. I took a number of nice photos along with some nice video; if you’d like to see the short 5 minute video of me and Frank taking a long walk and catching a few fish…then click here for the video.

Later that night, after finishing our walk downstream, then mowing for about an hour or two…I was finally taking off my boots, sitting on my front porch, watching as a doe and two fawns crossed my yard-nibbling at the ivy that runs up and down my fence; I realized how tired I was. I sat back and thought how good it feels to be a ‘good kind of tired’, what an awesome day I had had just Enjoying the Great Outdoors.