I couldn't wait to get out of work. It was Thursday afternoon and I had a terrific weekend planned.
Working the 9/80 schedule is a huge benefit. I work 80 hours in nine days instead of the usual 10, leaving me a three-day weekend every other weekend. It felt like a mini-vacation. Generally, I used that time to relax and just be by myself for a while. Sometimes, though, I took advantage of the longer weekend to get out and away from the world.
This weekend, I was going fishing. I've loved fishing since I was a little kid. I caught my first fish when I was three. I learned the art of fly fishing when I was a young teen and rarely went back to bait fishing. I still used lures from time to time, but there just wasn't enough excitement in bait fishing any more. My gear was all packed up and ready to go out in my car. My fishing license was securely stored in my wallet. My heart and mind were already in the hills on the river.
As soon as the clock showed 5:30 p.m., I stood up, grabbed my things and walked out the door, wishing my coworkers a good weekend as I went. Less than half an hour later, I was on the freeway, headed out of town. I knew I wasn't going to get to the fishing area until well after dark, but having been there numerous times in the past, I was comfortable with setting up camp at night. The whole drive up there, my mind was thinking through the various fishing holes I preferred and how best to fish them.
Of course, my mind came back to Eleanor. I can't take credit for giving her that name. That has to go to Jerry Bruckheimer and his movie, Gone in 60 Seconds, in which Nicholas Cage had tried to steal a Shelby GT500 several times and always had something go wrong. The car was elusive, leaving him always wishing. My Eleanor was a large, brown trout that lived in a certain calm stretch of the river. She would often come out and look at the flies I offered, but almost never struck. Once, she darted out of her concealment and grabbed at the fly, but had spit it out so quickly and had surprised me so much that the fact that I needed to set the hook didn't even register until she was laughing at me from under her cover.
One of these days, I was going to catch Eleanor.
Pulling into the campground at 8:30, I noticed that it was moderately full. I could see some of the trailers that I usually see as well as some larger tents, quite likely holding families out for an extended weekend. There were a few, single tents that likely only held individuals. I wondered how many of them were going to be competing with me for the best fishing spots.
Setting up camp is easy if it's just you. There are some benefits to sharing the work when you're with others, but being able to move at your own pace and knowing just what is set up how and where is kind of comforting. I got the campsite set up the way I like and was just sitting down in my folding chair when I heard a strange noise out in the woods. I held still and listened, trying to decipher just what it was.
It didn't take long for me to decide that it was definitely not a natural sound. It had to be man-made. Those sounds just don't occur out in these woods. Curiosity got the better of me and I decided to investigate. I took a flashlight, just in case, and wandered out into the woods, headed towards the sound. I left the light off, figuring that it might alert someone to my presence and trusting to my night vision and the light of the quarter moon to help me get safely through the area.
The sounds continued and my mind started to try to piece together just what I was hearing. It sounded female, but whether they were sounds of pleasure or pain were tough to tell. Rounding a boulder, I heard quite clearly that the sound was that of pleasure and could tell it was coming from just ahead of me.
We were on a small hill, looking down over a little valley through which the main river meandered. This was one of the favored fishing locations for the large number of pools and fat fish. It was a really pretty valley. Often, I would sit just where the couple was sitting to watch the valley and let my mind slough off the extra build-up that comes from working in the city.
Obviously, this couple had more on their minds than working in the city.
He was sitting on the ground, leaning back against a tree, and she was straddling his legs and was bouncing up and down, obviously enjoying the feel of his hard cock inside of her. The sounds of their union reached me and I knew she was very excited. The wet slurping sound of a highly aroused pussy being filled time and again by an erection is unmistakable. Her breathing was coming in ragged gasps and she was crying out with each impaling thrust. Her top was on the ground next to them and her man was taking full advantage of her bared chest. Her nipples appeared fully erect and were being teased by his mouth and hand. She seemed to love the attention her breasts were getting almost as much as she did the cock on which she rode. She had her hands around his head, pulling him tightly against her, urging him to suck harder.
Before long, her breathing quickened and she threw her head back, calling out in a long, even call of the wild. It was obvious that it was an amazing orgasm. Her body fairly shown in the light of the moon, her nipples glistening from the moisture caused by his sucking. Her blond hair fell back from her head, quivering as her body tensed in pleasure.
Her lover joined her in orgasmic bliss. His body tightened and he grabbed her body hard. He pulled her down against him and I could sense his pulsing against her, his voice calling out to join hers as he was pumping his seed into her.
After a short while, she sat up and pulled against him, kissing him deeply. Their sounds had diminished and they seemed to revel in the joy of their union under the stars.
Coming to my senses, I rearranged my now very stiff erection within my shorts for comfort and started to back away. I took one last look at the valley, recognizing that it was, indeed, a wonderful place to participate in such activities, and worked my way back to the campsite. My mental images were filled with how lovely the blonde looked and how exciting it was to hear her sex sounds. I started to feel rather lonely, wishing I had some female companionship on my trip and tried to console myself with the fact that I could do things as I wanted and that I was going to be able to try for Eleanor again in the morning.
Sleep was slow in coming, my mind refusing to give up the replay of the scene I'd witnessed at the valley. In the morning, I awoke with a full erection and feelings of desire. While still half asleep, my hand drifted down to caress my cock. I used my fingers in just the right way, causing the sensations I knew were there to increase. I held my cock near the base, my fingers reaching down between my balls to rub the bulge of my penis there. I ran those fingers in circles, enjoying that feeling deep at the base, then slid my hand up along the length of my erection, encircling it with my fingers, applying just the right pressure to feel most pleasurable. I made short motions near the top, my head sliding just in and out of the edge of my fist, then moving my hand down my cock to the base again. My mind was filled with ideas of the blonde in the throes of orgasm. It didn't take long before I could feel the first intense feelings of orgasm building inside of me. As those feelings grew, I increased the pace with which I stroked myself, until I was beyond the point of no return. With my other hand, I reached over and grabbed a kleenex and held it under my cock as the first blast of orgasm shot from me. My eyes closed and I groaned with the release. Pleasure shot through my body, extending through my extremities to the tips of my fingers and toes. My breathing quickened, just like the woman last night, as I shot spurt after spurt of cum into the kleenex. I hadn't cum so hard in a long time and it felt so good to have a release like that.
Once my breathing and heart rate had subsided to the point that I felt ready to rise, I got up and started my day. The sun was yet to rise, but it was light enough to get things going. I had a quick, instant breakfast drink and a pop tart to keep me going. I put on my waders and boots then my fishing vest, grabbed my rod, and started out.
Walking towards the valley, I couldn't help but remember what I'd seen last night. This time, I was able to easily distract myself with thoughts of the fishing I was going to be able to enjoy. I walked around the boulder where I was standing last night and past the tree who witnessed the whole thing and down the hill towards the valley.
Knowing that it was likely going to be rather well fished, I wasn't too nervous about walking right up to the river. Normally, I would have taken a little more time and moved a bit more furtively to avoid detection by a nervous fish or three. These fish had to be used to visitors and weren't likely to bite at anything unless it was obviously food. I scared a few fish in one of the pools and watched them dart across to the other side. They looked to be decent sized brook trout, which are rather tasty and quite beautiful. I felt like this was going to be a great day.
I walked along the bank of the river, getting a feel for the water and how things were going in the valley. I watched for insects, trying to see what were flying around and, therefore, what was likely to be landing on or falling in the water. When an insect landed on my arm, I took a close look at it, noticing its color pattern, how its wings looked, etc. I opened up my fly box and looked at what I had in there. It looked like I had one that might work. The Adams. I remember seeing an Adams up at Yellowstone National Park for the first time. I was still new to fly fishing and was overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of flies that were available for purchase. This one seemed so plain, but it sure caught a number of fish up there. Its gray body with reddish-brown and white hackles seemed almost boring. Looking at the insect on my arm, however, I realized that it was a very close replica.
I sat down on the bank and tied my first fly of the trip on my leader. I still tie flies on just like my dad taught me. I slide the leader into the eye of the fly then wrap that end up along the rest. I twist the fly four or five times then take the end of the leader down through the loop made when I doubled it back and pull it all tight. I then cut off the end and my fly is on the line. I pulled out my dry fly oil and applied a bit to the body of the fly, rubbing it in and along the hackles. I blew on it a bit to get the fly to open up some more and was ready to fish.
Moving slowly, I stepped down into the river. That first step in always has a bit of magic to it. Up until then, I wasn't fishing. I was just camping and scoping out the river with fishing gear on. As soon as you take that first step into the water, though, you're really there and really doing it.
I worked my way out towards the center of river, knowing that it would be easier to work both sides, and started walking upstream.
It's always easier to fish a pond from downstream. I can cast upstream, allowing the fly to settle on the water then float back to me. There is less time in which the fly looks fake when I fish that way, which is, after all, my goal for fly presentation.
In the movie, A River Runs Through It, the main character talks about fishing with his brother and father and suggested that the apostles of Jesus were fisherman and that John, the Beloved, was a dry fly fisherman. I thought of that as I began working my way up the river. There's something overwhelmingly right about fly fishing for me.
I pulled fly line out of the reel while starting to flip the end of my rod back and forth. I kept careful attention on the feel of the rod as the line fed out by my motions. I didn't want to move too quickly or I'd risk snapping the fly off my line. I needed to go fast enough, though, to keep the lining moving so I'd be able to lay it down on the water in the right manner.
When I set the line down for the first time of the morning, everything was in synch. The line flew out from the momentum of my arm movements and pulled up just short, causing the leader to carry just a bit more and settle, ever so lightly, on the water, the fly landing as if it were an actual insect settling down to drink.
The water flowed down toward me, bringing my fly and line with it. I was holding the rod in my left hand and gathering line in my right. I needed to be sure that my line was short enough to set the hook when a fish struck.
My fly disappeared in a splash of water. I pulled my rod up quickly and pulled a little on the line in my right hand. It was hooked! First cast of the day! Using just my hand on the line with my rod in the air, I fought the fish in towards me. It had decent fight, but wasn't going crazy so it was quickly over. I looked at the fish as it got close and calmed. It was absolutely beautiful. It looked to be about a foot long brown trout. The golden color along its side glistened in the first sunlight of the day to hit the river. The spots were perfectly round, some lined in red. It was lying there on its side at the top of the water, its gills flexing as it pulled water past the blood-rich flesh there.
Reaching down, I unhooked the fly from its mouth and watched as it gave a tentative splash with its tail then darted away from me.
I stood there and looked around, soaking in the day. I felt so in tuned with my surroundings, so caught up in the majesty of Nature at that moment.
While glancing around, I noticed someone sitting up against the tree from last night. It appeared that it might be the blonde from the night before. She was probably reliving her experience. She seemed to be looking in my direction, so I gave her a little wave, still caught up in the exuberance of my first catch. She started to grin and waved back, then started to walk down the hill in my direction.
"That looked like quite a catch," she said as she got close enough to talk.
I waited for her to get a bit closer so we wouldn't have to talk too loudly and potentially upset the fish just upstream, then said, "it was amazing. I love to see them up close like that. They're absolutely beautiful."
She looked at me a little different, as if I didn't turn out to be quite what she expected. "You even noticed," she said, "I thought you fishermen just went for the quick grab, the thrill of the hunt, so to speak."
While there are a number of fishermen and hunters who are like that, I think quite a few of them actually, sincerely appreciate the beauty that is Nature. I could feel my hackles raising and was about to retort a bit more angrily than I should have when I noticed a glint in her eye that seemed to suggest she might be joking.
"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm so used to teasing my brothers and dad about that and I forget that everyone isn't used to my sense of humor. I love it that you appreciate it. I think it's important that we give Nature her due."
"You made me nervous there for a minute. I thought I was going to have to defend my honor," I smiled at her.
She chuckled, "yeah, I can be a bit surprising to some."
We talked for a little bit. It turned out she was there with her sister and her sister's boyfriend. They needed to get away from the hustle and bustle of city life for a while and came up here to relax. From what I'd seen last night, the other two were definitely getting their fill of away time.
I took another look at ... I realized I didn't know her name.
"I'm John," I said.
"Hi, John. I'm Kelly," she responded. "I don't want to hold you up if you need to get fishing, but I'd love to talk to you again. How long do you think you'll be on the river?"
We decided to meet back here for lunch then Kelly went back up towards the hill and I turned back to the river. I waded up the river for a while, fishing a number of pools. I managed to catch a few more brown trout as well as some brook trout. I'd had some very positive fishing experiences in the past, but this day had to rate in the top ten. I was on cloud nine as I walked back along the bank to our scheduled meeting place.
When I got there, Kelly was sitting on a blanket with a cooler next to her. She was looking rather intently at something in her hands, which I couldn't see because of the high grasses between us. When I finally got close enough to see, I was shocked to see a snake in her hands. So many girls I'd been with were way too nervous around reptiles to even look closely at a snake, much less hold one.
At a glance, I could see it was a garter snake. Another look told me it was a wandering garter snake, one of the few snakes that had tried to bite me. Normally, snakes are extremely docile creatures, but if you catch them on a bad day and are too aggressive when trying to capture them, they can strike out in their only manner, with teeth. This one seemed rather calm in her sure hands.
"Looks like you've found a friend," I said as I walked up.
Kelly smiled up at me and said, "yup. He was just wandering through here on his way to his swimming hole."
She let him go then walked over to the river to wash the musk from her hands. That's one of the big drawbacks to holding a garter snake. They put out one of the stinkiest musks I'd ever smelled from a reptile.
She came back and sat down, saying, "would you like some lunch? I packed us a couple of sandwiches."
Surprised, but realizing just how hungry I was, I said, "Sure! I'm famished."
I removed my vest and waders (good thing I had my sweats on underneath) and sat down next to her on the blanket. It felt really nice to be able to sit with a beautiful woman in the mountains. I had intended on getting caught up in my fishing and just mentally remove myself from my daily life, but to add this was beyond my hopes for the weekend.
She started to remove items from the cooler. She had breads, cheeses and meats, along with fruit and juices. Since I was only going to snack on power bars and water, this was a huge step up for me. I was a little surprised at how hungry I was, but Kelly had more than enough to satisfy me.
I learned that she was a school teacher, teaching third grade, and that she was something of a computer geek like me. She liked to read mystery and fantasy novels in her spare time, was a fan of romantic comedies, and enjoyed a plethora of music genres. I already knew she enjoyed wildlife, but when we got talking about it, I learned what a passion she had for it. I had never met a woman who matched my personality so well. We got so caught up in our discussion that I didn't notice the passage of time.
At one point, I noticed how the light was playing in her hair and how much it made her shine. It was at that point that I realized how low the sun was in the sky. I looked over at the sun, gauging how low it was and estimated that we'd been chatting for about four hours. It had felt like maybe an hour and a half.
"Do you realize what time it is?" I asked.
Kelly looked over at the sun since she didn't have a watch on, either, and said, "wow ... I didn't even notice it was that late. I wonder if Susan and Mike are looking for me."
We gathered up the containers from lunch. We'd managed to eat everything she had as we were talking, so it made clean-up a bit easier. I picked up my waders and vest, along with my rod, and started to walk her towards the hill.
"You don't have to walk me back," she said, "though I do like the company."
"I'd rather walk with you than fish right now," I said, thinking it was probably the corniest line she'd ever heard. The smile on her face and the twinkle in her eye, though, let me know it was the perfect thing to say.