Hello all and thanks for checking in at the O’Grady Flyfishing Adventures. I wanted to write today a little about why I absolutely love flyfishing and how it may allow me to live a long and healthy life. Cat and I got to spend last weekend in Omaha celebrating my father’s 80th birthday. As most of our readers know, I grew up in Nebraska and that in itself severely limits the options one has for pastime enjoyment. As the Broncos are the focus year around here in Colorado, the Huskers are twice the obsession for most Nebraska-ites. Not many fans can boast about five championships in their lifetime, but as a Husker, I can. Now unfortunately, it’s been 15 years since the Huskers were even relevant and even longer since they were dominant. But even with that being said, every new year starts with the hope that this year is the return to Husker glory.
This year was especially exciting with a new coach and a new philosophy. On Saturday, part of my dad’s 80th b-day party, 35 crazed Husker fans poured into my dad’s house to watch the Riley era begin. The Huskers started fast and the cheers were loud and excited. Memorial stadium, and the basement were rocking, even Li’l Red was bobbing up and down the sidelines. The cougars bounced back and seemed to be having their way and then in the third quarter, the Huskers got energized. The 10 point deficit quickly turned into a lead and the Husker faithful were ecstatic once again. But every time it seemed like the Huskers were going to run away with it, they shot themselves in the foot again and again. The cougars got the ball back with less than a minute to go and made a few quick plays to make their way up the field. I don’t know if the blood was rushing into or out of me head, but I could feel my blood pressure approaching the seriously dangerous area. The clock was down to one second when the Cougars took the last snap, the QB rolled out and threw the ball as far as he could. An eternity passed and the ball dropped into the waiting hands of a cougar and he fell into the endzone. Memorial stadium, Li’l Red, my dad’s basement and the entire Husker nation went silent. It was as if Tom Brady himself had reached up from the depths of hell and let the air out of the Husker Nation. (yep Steve, I went there) At some time the silence was broken by an “un-freek’n believable” and followed by a “wow”. Everyone then got up in silence, helped clean up and went someplace lone to lick their wounds.
Sleep was not good this week, but a trip to the river has brought my blood pressure back to a safe place. Winston and I headed out to the river yesterday afternoon and had an absolute blast. The first thing I noticed was how much the water has cleared since the last time out. In a few different spots while wading ball deep, I could see structure on the bottom of the river. We got to the river around 4:30 and the first half hour or so was really slow, not even a bump. You would think that that would bother me but not even a little. I got into one run that can be quite productive but very difficult to land and I landed my first fish of the day. He was only about 12 inches but he was points on the board. A few casts later I hooked another fish and he didn’t feel very big. I fought him in a very nonchalant way and when he finally made his way to the top I had to do a quick double take. He looked to be a good 19 or 20 incher with a ton of color but by the time I realized how nice he was, it was too late. I got schooled. It hurt a little but nothing like watching the refs arms go up. I headed down river and the fishing actually got pretty good, I hooked quite few more but was only able to land the smaller fish. Cody and Travis showed up and I could hear Cody making the “ah” screeches several times and then he landed his fish of the night, a beautiful 17 incher. The evening was coming to an end and I had to make my way back to my car, I had to stop at the TA slip run for a few last casts and that was when things really got fun. My first several drifts came up empty and then five drifts in a row I landed these absolutely gorgeous 12 and 13 inch bows. And then in my best Bubba voice “it just stopped”. It was getting very dark and after several empty drifts I decided on one more cast. My fish of the day landed, about a fifteen inch Brownie, and as I was releasing him, I was at complete peace and it hit me. I love flyfishing!!!!!
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