Taylor and I had a trip to the Swift River in western MA on the books for awhile. We happened to choose the the weekend just before my birthday for the 2 hour trip west. This gave us the perfect excuse to take Monday off and fish that extra day.
The week before the trip we watched the weather closely. The predicted temperature of high 40's was not what had us concerned, it was the forecasted rain. Rain that had the potential to blow out the areas we were planning on fishing.
Rain wasn't going to stop us, even if the water ended up looking like chocolate milk. So we arrived at the Granby Motel Friday night and promptly cracked a few PBR's. With a Sea Dog Brew Pub dinner and a few PBR's in us we geared up for what we thought would be a cold, wet weekend on the water.
Saturday Afternoon brought lots of rain and no fish. We fished farther downstream while we could, before the blow out. Saturday night brought us to the Pizza Palace where we drowned our sorrows with a pitcher of beer and a buffalo chicken pizza.
When I landed a second rainbow I was stoked, but when I landed a third I was having the time of my life. Reflecting now, I should have called it quits right then and there. Sunday afternoon brought heavy rain and no fish. I was convinced I would land more or Taylor would get his first hook up of the trip Monday.
And then Monday brought snow, more rain and no fish.
As we headed home I was thinking about the three fish I caught. I realized it didn't matter that I didn't catch fish each day. It didn't matter that none of the three fish were bigger than 18 inches. It didn't matter that it was cold, raining, or snowing. What mattered was that I was able to spend three days on a beautiful river. Whenever I reflect, I realize that God's creation is always beautiful whether I catch trout or not.