I struggled with the title to this one, completely wanted to call it, “Busted 2012’s Cherry!,” “Ice Breaker” or any other cliche’d title of a similar vane, but settled on the simple “First.” There are mulitple ways of counting when the year begins, there are calendar years, fiscal years, the orthodox year, and the chinese year, but for us anglers, the year only starts to count once the first fish is caught after pinning that new TU calendar up on the wall.
We had several consecutive January’s of ill content and weather in the taint between the East Coast and the Mid West. Last weekend gave us a day in the mid 50’s, sun and blue bird skies. What else to do but hand hard earned bread to the PA Fish and Boat commission and hit some water. I ran down to the Laurel Highlands and fished the Yough a little to no avail than decided to try Meadow run from the water slides down to the mouth. If nothing else, when it’s not the middle of summer with all of the tourist’s kids screaming and scraping their asses on the rock slides, the place is quite breathtaking when enjoyed in solitude. With the abnormally pleasant weather there were surprisingly few people out and about in the Ohiopyhle environs so I mostly had the place to myself…excpet for hipster girl and white boy dreads. I was fishing and they were trying to take pictures. I say trying to take pictures because white boy dreads was struggling to take a long exposure shots of the water falls. Him and hipster girl began to argue a little about what their different photography teachers told them to do. I got annoyed and showed them how I do it. The picture below is what I demonstrated:
People arguing in nature are obnoxious, particularly hipsters. They seemed to understand all the settings I showed them, they snapped a few, were happy then went on their merry hipster and white dreadlocky way. I went back to fishing. Caught a few more, the light began to fail and I packed up to head home. Happy having started the fishing year so early and with such a pretty little first trout of the year. She was either a wild bow or a maturing fingerling stocked last spring, pretty no less.
The sky at dusk and dawn the past few days has been simply spectacular, I snapped this pic on the way out of the Yough valley heading back towards Chalk Hill.