Made the annual northeastern migration over Memorial Day weekend to my parent’s place in the North Georgia mountains. The weather couldn’t have been better as every day brought blue skies and mild temps. It was even a chilly 47 degrees upon waking up Friday morning. The fishing was pretty darn good, most fish fell for stonefly imitations, but a few came on streamers and dries. Day 1 yielded the best results with the action tapering off throughout the weekend- no doubt the fish were getting tired of seeing the same thing by day 3. For the second year in a row I caught the biggest brown trout that I’ve ever caught and it could actually be the same fish that I caught last year – click the link, you be the judge. Besides the brown, there are some real monsters in that little creek, I moved a few fish on streamers that would give that brown a run for the money. I just wish I could have gotten them to eat just to see if my 7wt would have held up. These trips are a lot of fun and I wish I could get that way more often. Big thanks to my parents for having me over for a few days. What they have there is really special and I know a lot of hard work gets put into it. I truly appreciate every opportunity I’m given to enjoy it.
The big brown
Day 4 was not much of an encore for Blake and I, but more a much needed day of rest before we packed up and headed out. I did some halfhearted fishing, but after breaking off a few times I gave up. I hooked a few fish before then, but landed none of them. Mom caught a pretty nice trout though, on an inline spinner that Blake had tied for her (think wooly bugger with an attached spinner).
That afternoon we all took a ride to the Toccoa to check out the footbridge on the Benton Mackeye trail. We all agreed it was over-engineered for the pedestrian traffic it sees, but our wives took comfort in that fact as it swayed while others passed us by.
That night we sat around the campfire, a perfect way to end a trip up to the cabin.
Monday morning we headed out with the Subaru packed to the gills. While Blake and I fished, our wives had a good time at the outlets in Dawsonville and the Arts in the Park Festival in Blue Ridge. They did get a chance to stop by the new Blue Ridge Fly Fishing to pick up some swag and flies for Blake and I. I didn’t even have to ask – that’s love. I think they enjoyed the trip as much as we did. There is just something about those wild trout that gets my adrenaline going. I know they aren’t big, but they hit dry flies with reckless abandon and when you do hook into something bigger than 8″ – it is exciting! Especially with our 1 and 2 wt rods. It was sad to leave the cabin, but we’ll be back.