A Young Man's Job

Instead of fishing this weekend I took care of things on the home front, recovered from a cold and visited with family. One of the highlights was catching up with my uncle. Our annual camping weekend is coming up for the traditional opener of trout fishing season, so timing was perfect. He stopped over my parent's house, the same house he grew up in, to do some tree work in the backyard. There was a giant swamp maple that he planted as a boy with a widow-maker branch hanging since Tropical Storm Irene last August. With spurs on his boots, clips on his belt and some rope, he scaled 60 feet up the tree and went to work while fellow family members stared on with kinks in our necks. My uncle said it was a young man's job, but he owned it. When the chainsaw finally cut through the branch and it fell to the ground, the weight of it pushed four bricks on the patio a foot into the ground. So needless to say it will be nice to have a beer out back this summer without worrying about a several hundred pound tree limb hovering over us. When the maple is seasoned next year, we'll have great fuel for the wood stove too.

Even though he doesn't get on the water as much as he used to, my can s uncle till wield a fly rod just as good as chainsaw. I have him to thank for introducing me to our annual Opening Day camping tradition nearly 20 years ago. For the first few trips I didn't catch a single trout, yet I looked forward to it all year long like I still do today. It was then and is now more about getting away from the everyday grind and spending time with friends than catching fish anyway-- the stories around the camp-fire, the laughs, enjoying fresh clams, etc.

It's my hope that Uncle D has another Opening Day weekend like last year when he stuck two awesome brown trout on the Farmington River. The fishing forecast looks positive for this year as long we don't get the deluge of rain that is bound to come sooner or later. The mild winter we just experienced has everything in nature a few weeks ahead of schedule, including insect hatches on our rivers and streams. There is a strong chance that we could be smack in the middle of the famed Hendrickson hatch during our camping trip.  Wouldn't that be nice?