Early Spring Trout Fishing, a.k.a. The Trip My SLR Went for a Swim -- March of 2009

An over night trip with an ol' fishing pal in Western, South Central, North Eastern, Pennsylvania was a good way to kick off the fishing year.   Thanks to a tip from a long time fly fisherman who my buddy and I met the year previous on Penns Creek helped us land a good number of brownies fishing green caddis nymphs, all in the healthy 12 to 15 inch range.

To put the unfortunate story from this trip in a fortune cookie, my SLR went for a swim in the river.  I am not pointing any fingers, as I admittedly left my camera in a camera bag on the bank of the stream, the bag unzipped, as always, for easy access.  But as I landed what was clearly a 15+ inch wild brown trout to my eyes at that moment, I asked my buddy for a photo of the fish.

He did grab the camera bag (still unzipped), but rather than taking a quick photo or two, he pulled out that measuring tape of his to prove to me that my 15+ incher was actually a 13 incher at best, which it was, barely, as the tape proved  --  (all fish appear much bigger in sight than when actually measured, and I am fully the most guilty fisherman in the world of that wrong perception).  A reputation that continually brings out that measuring tape, so that I am rightly put back in my place. 

Unfortunately, plop went the camera out of the bag, straight to the bottom of the river during that measurement...  No pictures of that fish!

To my friend's credit, before our next fishing trip, which may have been the very next weekend, I received an early birthday gift that I did not deserve.  He arrived with a water proof, drop proof, rugged 10+ mega-pixel, underwater, point and shoot camera as a gift, which I have carried with me on every fishing trip since.  Thanks, buddy!  You are a good friend, indeed.

SD cards are amazing.  Here are a handful of photos from before the SLR camera went for a swim...

Two of the brownies I landed on day one...

And this one of some guy fishing up stream of me.




He wasn't catching anything while I watched him fish...











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On a side note, to make this trip even more memorable, the night in between our two fishing days, we stayed at a class "c" motel, at best, somewhere near this river, our only option other than sleeping in the car we drove to the river. 

Sleep minutes that night were few and far between, thanks to a woman's voice screaming and moaning, along with headboard banging, in the room next door that would go on for what seemed like hours, then pause just long enough for us to maybe catch a wink of sleep, only to begin again, then pause, then begin again, then pause, and then begin again.  All night long.

As we geared up the next morning for day two of fishing, my buddy's words were priceless:  "That was no wife in that room last night."