When I was a child and not yet enlightened (or, perhaps, more
enlightened than I would ever be) any fish, and particularly a large fish, was
exciting to see moving below the surface or feel pulling on the line. What
species of fish did not matter. Not
being enlightened; a fish was just a
fish and any fish was exciting to hook.
There is an old Zen proverb that speaks of the process of enlightenment. Before enlightenment, the mountains were the
mountains and the rivers were rivers. Then while I sought enlightenment, the
mountains were not mountains and the rivers were not rivers. After I attained enlightenment,
the mountains were mountains and the rivers were rivers. Perhaps by extension,
after enlightenment, a fish becomes a fish. In other words, a fish is just a
fish, and the species does not matter.
After fishing the “dream stream” and catching several nice
trout with my clients, I drove over the river at the gauging station hole,
pulled over to watch the river that was flooding out of its banks. There is so much water coming down the South
Platte that “lakes” have formed in the meadows and new channels of water have
formed.
How strange that in
one of the side channels, where previously there had been no water, I see large dark forms moving in the currents.
Hundreds of them. For a brief moment I
thought they could be trout. But they were not trout; They were carp. “Monster”
carp of 10-20 pounds.
As I watched them I wondered what caused them to move up from 11 mile reservoir. It is a bit of a
mystery. Were they looking for new habitat or looking for food? Were they
scared? Determined? I do not know. They were lined up in the river facing
upstream (just like trout or salmon).
I thought back to being a child and sight casting with a white
marabou streamer to a large carp.
I allowed the fly slowly to sink to the carp. I noticed my floating fly line twitch ever so
slightly and setting the hook. I battled the large carp and then released it. Being an unenlightened child I considered the
catching of the carp as quite an accomplishment. Back then, to a child, a fish was a fish.
Here I am 45 years later watching these massive carp on the ‘dream
stream.’ I think of books written and cd’s
produced describing the challenges of catching Carp on a fly. Fly fishers speak of how
wary these fish can be to take a fly.
I then find myself grabbing my fly rod out of my truck and
walking to the “river.” I look around and wonder if anyone is watching me. I
feel a twinge of shame wondering if my colleagues will think fishing for carp
is beneath them and only for kids who grew up in New Jersey. Perhaps they might
think fishing for carp is only for unenlightened folks.
As I walk among the willows, I spook out dozens and dozens
of large carp. There are so many I am almost stepping on these strange
creatures. They peacefully move out of my way.
I enjoy watching the large dark forms in the currents. For
several minutes I watch them move in the currents. I consider if they would
take a fly. I make my choice and my first cast.
I cast in the main run with a red San Juan Worm and my
strike indicator stops suddenly. I lift the rod and feel the fish’s massive
weight and power as it surges across the river. I can see my San Juan worm in
the fish’s mouth.
I feel a certain satisfaction. I fooled the large fish. It sucked
the fly into its mouth. I now chase the beast
down river like the unenlightened 11 year old boy I once was and can once again
become.