John Swincinski

Too Many to Count
42 x 29 in

From the Lost Creek Storm Series, Number 2 of 5
Just as I finally reached my fishing spot, about five miles into the Lost Creek Wilderness area, the sky began to change and what was a cloudless Colorado summer day began to give way to overcast skies and bit of drizzle. It was bit of a hike to get to get here and now it was time to fish. The changing weather would only help me as trout seem to get more active when the sun starts to go away.
Lost Creek is a small stream and so I brought a short and delicate 3-weight rod. I tied on my favorite attractor fly. I crouched low and moved to the bank, flipped the little Chernobyl Chubby I had selected into the current, and within seconds - plop! It didn’t take much effort to reel the fish in as it was tiny brook trout, maybe six inches. The brook trout is my favorite fish to catch. They are wild, hearty, and emblazoned with amazing colors.
I worked my way upstream, stopping at every tiny pool, riffle, and bend. I stopped counting caught fish many years ago, but even if I had been counting, I would have quickly lost count. After a few hours, I can only estimate that I had hooked seventy to eighty brookies, the largest coming in at a generous nine inches. What these fish lacked in size, they made up for in their eagerness to attack my fly. I was content, more content than I had been in a long time. The sky became lighter for a while, and it was time to hike out of the wilderness for the day. But as I started back up the Wigwam trail, I noticed a darkening sky in the distance. I decided not to put away my gortex wading jacked just yet.