FISHING BUDS

OUT ON THE RIVER, BECOMING ONE WITH NATURE (AND CANNABIS) FISHING BUDS

IT WAS ONE OF those typical summer days that seem to go by too quickly, even with 20 hours of daylight to play with. I was standing in a gin-clear river on a partially cloudy day with a fly rod in my hand. I had already caught my daily limit of sockeye salmon early in the morning and decided to round out the day with some trout fishing.

Sockeye fishing and trout fishing are two entirely different pursuits. Yes, they do have some things in common: They both I take a few small drags and watch as the vapor cloud drifts off in the light breeze. Then I feel it. That beautiful relaxing feeling that helps slow my mind down to a manageable level. I start to notice involve standing in the water the leaves fanning slowly in the wind. I can hear and casting flies into the river, but beyond that, they are so the water bubbling and murmuring as it passes dissimilar that it is sometimes over rocks and around corners. The sound is very difficult to switch from one to the other. soothing and soon I feel like a different person.

Fly-fishing for salmon typically involves finding a good hole where history has taught you the sockeye will hold. If I’m lucky there will be a nice fresh school just waiting for me to drop a line. If not, it’s usually best to hang out in that spot until they show up. I know there will be fish moving upstream and they will, at some point, have to pass through the spot I’ve selected as my hunting grounds.

Once I start hooking them, I know I’m in for fast and furious fights that test my tackle and forearm strength. I fight them quickly because I don’t want a school to get by while I’m playing out any particular fish. Once they are landed, I humanely dispatch them as fast as possible and jump immediately back into my hole. It could be a small run that day and every cast counts, so I don’t have time to relax.

The whole process tends to ramp up the adrenaline in your system and when the last fish is landed, it can feel a bit odd because you have reserves of energy and nothing to do with it.

Trout fishing on the other hand is a sport meant to be enjoyed calmly.

After dropping off my fish in the cooler and switching out my heavy salmon gear for a lighter rod more suited for making accurate casts and playing out smaller fish, I head back to the river still on a natural buzz from the morning’s catch.

I hike upriver several miles to put some distance between me and the salmon fishermen that are crowding the lower holes downriver. I step back in the current and begin reading the water to find the best spots to throw a fly into.

However, I soon notice that my casts feel hurried and my mind is darting all over the place, looking for any likely spot that would hold trout as I wade my way downstream. I notice that every place I look seems better than the one I am currently fishing and find myself casting quickly through good water just to move onto the next.

I know what I need to do … I need to get my mind right. I reel in and move onto the bank and sit down in the shade of a large cottonwood tree.

I fumble around a little in my vest looking for my vape pen. It is loaded with an indica-leaning hybrid that tastes as fresh and clean as the air around me. I take a few small drags and watch as the vapor cloud drifts off in the light breeze.

Then I feel it. That beautiful relaxing feeling that helps slow my mind down to a manageable level.

I start to notice the leaves fanning slowly in the wind. I can hear the water bubbling and murmuring as it passes over rocks and around corners. The sound is very soothing and soon I feel like a different person. The concentrate tastes very good and I want to take a few more hits just for the flavor, but decide against it. I do have a river to wade and want to be in control. I just needed to take away the edginess that salmon fishing had put into my head. I step back into the river and start looking for places that are likely to hold trout. I feel myself making unhurried casts into likely-looking water without scanning around to see what is ahead of me. I find that I hold my drifts a little longer, which increases my chances of getting a bite. The whole process is much more peaceful and I am getting in tune with each drift of the fly. I feel connected to the river in a way that salmon fishing doesn’t allow. The freedom to move from spot to spot helps as I am no longer anxiously awaiting for fish to move to me, but rather am working my way through the water and searching out their hiding spots. In doing so, I see a lot more rivers and am enthralled by them. I am catching fish and the bigger ones threaten to get my heart racing again, but never for long, as the THC and terpenes work rapidly to slow my pace down once again. I find myself enjoying the beauty of a wild river as much as the fishing. There are Sitka roses in full bloom with their shy pink petals, vibrant green moss-covered boulders jutting up out of the current, and a flock of about 20 young mergansers (a type of waterfowl) following their parents along the shore as they search out small fish and aquatic insects to fill their growing bellies. I fish for the next few hours, occasionally ‘tuning up the high’ to keep my state of mind relaxed and open to the experience. I couldn’t tell you how many trout I caught that day, but I do remember standing in the river watching two hummingbirds flitting around the rose bushes and taking sips of nectar. Something I’m sure I would have missed if I hadn’t been ‘sipping’ the nectar in my vest from time to time as well. I guess that’s why I enjoy combining my favorite sport with my favorite mood adjuster. Doing so allows me to experience the wonder that is Alaska trout fishing with a more focused and attentive mind. I fish better, I am more relaxed, and I often notice things in a way that is more sublime than when I fish without Cannabis in my creel.