Day Trip to Mars

The departure was early. Ryan walked through the door at 1:30am, straight from work. I don't know about Nick, but I doubt that I slept for more than an hour, and a restless hour at that. We brew two pots of extra bold Sumatra coffee, load the gear, and hit the highway under a full moon.

The lake is calm. The skyline promises a lively sunrise. I often reflect during these moments while I'm stringing up my rod.

This is it. All the excitement, planning, time, and hope for something that ultimately has an undeniable factor of chance.

It's at this moment that the one thing out of my control is upon me.

Are we going to get into fish today?

After all, trophy fishing is like poker. You do everything in your power to put yourself in the best possible scenario. It's a game of operating within the highest percentages of potential success. However, no matter how perfect the setup, chance is an undeniable factor, and aces can be cracked.



First light, first cast, the flop quads the aces. It's gonna be one of those days.

The clouds hang over the mountains in that magical way so as to shield the sun and prolong the "first light" mode for well over an hour.






A spirited release:


The mesmerizing horizon conspires to draw one's gaze from concentrating on fishing. None of us mind the lovely distraction.

My bro hoisting his personal best brown.

When I shot this photo of Nick this was his natural expression. After a few shots I told him to close his mouth and took one of him smiling. I thought the smile one was better at first, but after further review I gotta say, the natural is classic.


Ryan getting face time with his personal best trout.






And to complete the trifecta, this hefty hen grants me a personal best brown as well.


I've heard the cliche stories of people saying "At first, I thought it was a snag." Well, I can honestly say that, at first, I thought it was a snag. When I set the hook, I even declared it. However, something in the very back of my brain told me to keep pressure on. And then I noticed that my snag was slowly moving. Not throbbing or thrashing, but just moving. It felt like a bulldog was causually walking along the bottom of the lake.


My brother took a cool, quick clip of her. Its short, but something about footage really conveys size and weight better than any photo can.



Around 11:00 we run into Mark. While fishing with Mark a guy walks up and starts talking to him. Then the guy turns to me and says, "Is that Tangler?"

Haha, it turns out its WyoFlyFish, a fellow angling blogger. I read his sweet blog all the time. Great to finally meet you in the flesh dude! Hopefully next time I'll be operating on normal human hours and we can wet some lines.

Ryan and Nick, I thank you for your superb photography. These guys know how to shoot. If it weren't for your sick photos I'd have very little to share on the blog. Thanks!