The Eastatoee river continues to haunt me.
I’ve fished varying parts of the Eastatoee river probably 25 times over the last 2-3 years. Skunked, every single time.
This river has haunted me since the first day I ever started fly fishing. And it’s never shown any signs of changing, as I found out yesterday, again.
I decided to head out yesterday for a couple of hours and give the Eastatoee another try. Since it’s closer than my usual spots, it was an obvious choice since time was limited yesterday. I just wanted to get outside and get on the river. I didn’t really care where or what, which is the perfect scenario for Eastatoee, given my history with it.
I don’t know what it is about the Eastatoee that keeps producing a skunk, and I’ve almost given up on it several times. This is, after all, the same river I slipped and fell in a while back and broke my finger. That should have been the sign, right there.
The weather was awesome yesterday, with temps in the low 80’s. The river was flowing nicely and gin clear. Water levels seemed slightly down, but nothing out of the norm. I really thought this might be the day that I get my first Eastatoee brown.
I never got that Eastatoee brown. What I did get was 2 hours to practice my roll casting and much needed time with nature. I’ll take both of those and enjoy the fact that I’m just lucky to be out there doing what I love to begin with.
I will be back to the Eastatoee river, that is a fact. I’ll do it because I know that once I finally get the first catch, the reward is going to be like none other so far. She’s kicked my ass every time I’ve been there; she’ll probably do it a few more times. But that can’t stop me from trying.
I’ll go back. Because honestly, at this point, I can’t not go back.