
The large trout was gently finning, staying relatively still in the gin clear water. Every once in a while he would slide to the right or the left. Given that the spring creek was absolutely thick with cress bugs, it was a safe assumption that the brown was sold out to feeding on these little crustaceans. Now all I had to do was get my fake cress bug in front of him.
But then I realized there was a problem.
I had crawled under the bushes for a dozen yards to observe this particular brown trout. Walking upstream, a flash of color and movement gave me all I needed to investigate. Since the fish in the headwaters of this stream were notoriously wary I made the decision to slither on my belly to an unobtrusive vantage point. These trout were earned. This kind of thing was normal.
As I already mentioned, after locating the fish and identifying a reasonable pattern in his behavior there was a problem. The cast and presentation would be difficult; sure. But the real quandary I found myself in was a thick tangle of poison ivy. I had been so laser focused on keeping my eyeballs on the fish that I neglected to acknowledge that I was army crawling through Satan’s preferred ground covering.
Remarkably, I came away from that scenario unscathed. I say remarkably, because that is not usually what happens to me when I come in contact with even a hint of the oil from this demon vine. Calamine and steroids are usually necessary. That is why I am usually much more observant of these three poison ivy deterrents:









