What does the bear say?

You might notice that instead of my usual Simms sling pack I have a new fishing accessory in the photo above. That’s my son Oscar, in his favorite blue hat. It was a short, experimental kind of outing- but one I have been waiting for for a very long time. And we even caught a fish. He was just barely content to hang out on my back, but I swear he perked up a little when that strike indicator took a dive. And best part was the realization that it can be done… stay tuned for more outings with “dada”.

I’ve learned that having a kid, and now two, means you have to really prepare for any and every outing. So, in order to get in an actual, full day kind of fishing trip I had to put him in daycare, take the day off work and schedule a trip way in advance. I’ve been dying to get up to the Farmington this season, so that’s what I did last Tuesday. I was glued to the weather reports all week and it didn’t look great. After a morning downpour during the drive, it stopped raining when I got to the river. For whatever reason (fishing after heavy rain?) the fishing was extremely slow going. My confidence spot, first stop, was a bust and no amount of nymphing anywhere got a strike. Finally around two o’clock at Beaver Pool I saw some blue wing olives in the air and the trout noticed too. There were rising fish everywhere suddenly. I got four or five nice ones on an emerger pattern that worked better and better as it got chewed up and spit out. I had just released the best fish of the day, a fat rainbow, when I heard someone yell something through the woods near the road. It sounded like he was calling for his dog, which I could hear crashing through the woods towards me. It stopped in the trees behind me and as it thrashed around, breaking branches, I thought “wow, I wonder what breed this giant dog is”.  I was a little less enthusiastic when I heard it splash into the quiet pool I was fishing. Annoyed, I turned to get a look and my distracted mind simply couldn’t comprehend how fat this black dog was. And it had a red tag in its ear. Wait. This is not a dog at all, it’s a goddamn black bear. And then, without ever making eye contact- it jumped into the river, swam across, and bolted up into the woods. And that was that. As I recovered from my shock, it occurred to me that I should take a photo. There he goes...