Why would a grown man, already suffering from the known reasons for sleep deprivation, get up at 5:30 in the morning and drive an hour away to fish some nondescript municipal pond overrun with Canadian geese?
Carp, that’s your answer. Investing time in fish that don’t seem to care very much weighs on you. Rejection makes you want them all the more.
We could see the fish mudding in a foot of water. We watched them move time and again just out of casting range. We placed several of Chris’s nymph patterns right in front of their rubbery lips and they ignored us. Carp are nobody’s fools.
I don’t envision my life changing for the better in any significant way by getting a carp to finally eat my fly. There’s no gold embossed certificate due in the mail for it. It’s just something I want to do.
I left before they would oblige me. Of course, I’m standing in the driveway an hour removed from the scene of confrontation when I get a text from Chris:
Nice work, Chris. I know you paid your dues.