Friday, May 3, 2013

Fishing the Fabled Hendrickson Hatch

I found myself fortuitously near to the Farmington River today. Todd joined me and we alternated between nymphing rods and dry fly. After a few fish between us, at 2.30pm The Fabled Hendrickson Hatch was just building in intensity when I decided it was time to call home; to inform Wife that I would be late in; that my cell phone battery was almost out of power; but no need to worry, don't wait up.

You know where I am.

I turned around midstream to wade ashore and make the bank-side call. That's when I fell, head-long, into the cold Farmington River. I struggled to regain my footing, and fell in, again head-long.  Swimming, basically.

On the bank I made sure nothing was broken - rod first, then bones. It felt good to be wet through in the sunshine, and to know that, on any given day, I'm utterly rubbish at fishing. I laughed about that all the way back to my car.

The phone was dead, and I'd be home early, after all.


Todd is a good angler.


  1. Why didn't you keep fishing if you didn't break a rod or bone? Gotta take the trash out and vacuum?

  2. I've thought about this since. The answer is (a) I was soaked through, which is uncomfortable (b) I read the sign that said: Go Home - this is not your day, and (c) see (b), when your car's battery will fail for the 4th time in as many weeks, and you'll regret being down that dirt road with no cell phone.

    Why were you at home playing with your dog?

  3. I was out fishing a stream and managed not to fall in. No dog Punahele

  4. You should probably write a blog.

  5. I am sorry you missed staying for a bit. The fishing was better later. And before you got there. And the next day too. Sad, really.

    That culvert picture is mighty sexy. That may be the scotch speaking.

  6. I always find the truth in Scotch. And culverts are just plain sexy.

  7. Sorry I was so insensitive. Today I remembered crawling in a storm drain with my friends when I was a kid to look up girls skirts at the ice cream truck which was parked nearby. That exhaust could have killed us. So life goes on. Punahele