I love a lake where solitude can be enjoyed without the interference of two-stroke engine noise. Minnesota Fishing Opener, when most lakes are a ruckus of motor racket, is also the opening for stream trout in lakes. And so I hiked into a non-motorized area to a lake that is undeveloped, non-motorized, and solitude from society.
Everything should be artful; fishing included. While others may have been conquering lakes with 200+ horsepower and a mortgage worth of electronic gear, I found a tranquil location to paint en plein air with a fly rod. Is it snobbish of me? Perhaps. But in fly fishing, even the lure itself is a work of art.
The scenery, the lure, the casting action, and the traditional garb and gear are all works of art in flyfishing. Come success, even the colorful pattern on the brookies, browns, and rainbows are paintings by the Creator himself.
Though I’d prefer the native brookies, I headed to a remote lake stocked with brown trout, and cast away the evening. Even in my non-motorized solitude in a wilderness area, I still couldn’t completely escape the clamor of two-stroke. Somewhere in the distance, the rumble of an ATV was still casting its noise all the way over the trees to where I stood.
The sun got lower and the celestial colors heightened. After many pendulus casts, I finally met with success and pulled in a fish. Well, ‘fish’ may be a generous name for it; for although it was the size of a small trout, in reality it was just a large minnow. Beautiful, mirroring scales glinted in the evening sun, the golden shiner was at minimum a guarantee I wasn’t completely skunked.
Daylight vanished and I hiked back to through the dark woods with the rosy sky behind me. My wicker creel was empty, but I had met success nonetheless. I had caught some solitude, some peace of mind, and a wonderful experience; and also, not to be forgotten, a very large golden shiner minnow.