I greatly enjoy fishing, but more importantly, I have a boyish desire to explore places I’ve never been. Recently, I have been doing a lot of fly fishing. When I fish with a spinning rod, there is some level of frustration when I don’t catch any fish. When I fly fish, just the act of fishing is satisfying. Catching a fish on a fly rod is just a bonus.
Today, I went to a new pond in Concord, MA. I won’t state the name of it so as not to draw too much attention to it, but it is my new favorite spot for a number of reasons including one not so much related to fishing. Things just seemed to keep getting better as the day wore on.
- The pond is set back in the woods which makes it a bit more beautiful. Even the drive there is pretty.
- The launch ramp only has parking room for 6 cars. This keeps the number of anglers out on the small pond to a minimum. It worked in my favor today, but I am sure I would think otherwise if there was no spot left for me.
- The pond is spring fed and the water is crystal clear. I could see the bass swimming around below the surface.
- There are only houses on about half of the pond. It drives me crazy when every square inch of a pond is covered by houses. I feel guilty searching right in front of people’s houses.
- Breasts. Sorry, but it was the politest way to say it, but it nonetheless factors into my voting
I backed my truck down as close as I could and dragged the kayak the rest of the way. Two old men strolled up from the beach and noticed the Heritage Boatworks sign on my truck. We proceeded to talk about Heritage Boatworks and a number of old wooden boats they used to own. It was one of those conversations that could have gone on for hours, but there were fish to catch!
Out on the water, I could see the bottom clearly at about 7-8′ deep. My very first cast with the fly rod landed a 3lb large mouth bass with a Deceiver that Lefty Kreh taught me to tie myself.
As I looked over the fish, I couldn’t help but notice how healthy it looked. The colors shined and its body seemed perfect with not a single blemish or scar. Just beautiful.
The wind kicked up a bit and I decided to ride it over to the northwest corner where there were some trees hanging over the water. I paddled softly over letting the wind do most of the work and watching the sunfish play just beneath the surface as their brown bodies contrasted with the crystal blue water. I dropped anchor about 30′ off shore and wielded the fly rod one again. Behind me I could hear voices. I glanced over my shoulder to find 2 young girls on the beach, chatting and giggling. Voices carry on the water and I could hear their every word. Judging by the conversation, I would guess college-aged girls. They were mostly stories of parties, drunk people, and school work with the frequent dramatic phrases “oh…my…god” and “no….way.”
I thought nothing of it and started throwing my line out. A number of casts later and I heard splashing and giggling. The girls were taking a swim. It looked quite refreshing and I considered a jump overboard myself, although it would be a challenge to keep the boat upright and not lose all my gear. Laughing to myself about how ridiculous I would look swimming around my upturned kayak trying to collect all of my fishing gear, I glanced back over at the girls. They were exiting the water and I noticed the bathing suits they were wearing. One had a white string bikini bottom and the other a next-to-nothing thong that really wasn’t doing much in the way of coverage. Yes, that is where the swimsuit description ends, because that was all they were wearing.
Right here on this quaint little pond in Concord, MA. Concord, one of the wealthiest towns in the nation! Right here in my new favorite fishing hole, about twenty feet from my boat, stood two attractive, nearly-naked, college girls! That voluntary yet disastrous swimming idea I had prior just about became involuntary. The girls turned around simultaneously as if they knew I was looking. We all stared at each other for that awkward second as I waived and smiled. I didn’t know what else to do. I don’t have alot of topless beach etiquette experience. They made no gesture of embarrassment or to hide themselves. Clearly they were breast wielding veterans. I quickly turned my head away like an embarrassed adolescent and searched frantically for something to pretend that I was doing in front of me.
Their conversation picked up again as they lounged out in the sun to dry off. I dared not turn my head again both for fear of embarrasment (mine mostly) and because my general, 42-year-old moral compass told me not to. Damn compass.
Did I mention that this is my new favorite fishing spot?