There was no shoulder-to-shoulder, opening-day crowd waiting on Monday morning, as we arrived at that special place in the Maine woods.

Trucks were not parked two and three to a turnout, as they often are near the most productive pools.

There was no line at the only store in town, nor anyone standing thigh-deep in the waters we’d come to fish.

There was no changing of our initial game plan, nor moving on to another, hopefully less crowded, stretch of water.

There was only peace … quiet … and the presence of husky salmon that we knew lurked in the depths of pools we are often faced to share.

These are the days that make it worthwhile, we figured. These are the days we remember, when the evenings grow cold and raw and spring is a distant memory, when fly fishing is a pursuit that will have to wait until snow ceases to fly, and the lakes reluctantly give up their winter coats.

Not because of the number of fish we catch, nor the size of them. But because every now and then – on those special days – months of talking and planning finally culminate in a fishing trip that isn’t scrapped, and isn’t put off for another day … someday.

John Kirk is as avid a fisherman as you’re likely to find. And over the past couple years, he and I have become friends largely because of that common bond.

Over a drink or two at our local watering hole, the Winterport attorney has taught me plenty about the sport I thought I knew fairly well.

And each time we talked, the conversation eventually headed down the same wooded path: “We’ve got to go fishing at …” he’s say, and I’d nod my agreement.

Someday.

For months, we had those conversations. We talked about flies I’d never heard of, and places they’d work best. In our minds, we fished all of them … and in real life, we didn’t. Not at the same time, at least.

On Monday, we did.

The location doesn’t matter. Not really. Chances are, you already know. Chances are, you’ve already been there.

And even if you haven’t … you have. Haven’t you?

Each of us has a place like that, of course.

The fishing wasn’t great on Monday. But it was good enough.

It didn’t take Kirk long to show his expertise, tempting a bruiser (or so we thought) to take a nip at his “secret weapon.”

Alas, that fish tossed the fly before we got it to net.

We hopped from pool to pool, always arriving at the right time: No crowds awaited, no competition existed.

In many of our most special places – like this one – that’s not the case any longer. But on Monday, it was.

And it was perfect.

The fish, to be honest, were a bit more finicky than we’d have liked. Especially galling (at the time) were the dozen or so fish we could see in one pool … but who had no interest in anything we tossed their way.

Over the course of the day, we caught a couple, missed several more.

And as our predetermined departure time came and went, we returned to the place we’d started, just to see if that bruiser – or his cousin – might show up for an encore.

He did.

That fish isn’t the one we’ll remember, though.

At the local watering hole, I’m sure we’ll talk more about the ones we didn’t catch … and what we’ll do differently next time, on another special day in the Maine woods.

Someday.

Rainbow Valley plans tourney

When Maine anglers talk about “tournament fishing,” they’re typically thinking about bass.

Two local business owners, however, has another idea in mind.

Delton and Becky Curtis, who created Rainbow Valley in Thorndike to give people a chance to learn how to fly fish (and to catch stocked rainbow trout while they’re doing so), are hosting a five-week tourney that will start this weekend.

Here’s the deal: Up to 16 two-angler teams will compete for cash prizes and trophies by catching and releasing rainbows for three hours each Sunday.

One angler per team will fish at a time, and the other will be in charge of netting and recording the fish’s length. Team standings will be determined based upon how many “inches of fish” you catch.

Four of Rainbow Valley’s manmade ponds will be utilized, with each team switching locations and ponds every 45 minutes.

Having visited Delton and Becky last year (and having been treated to a wonderful meal that Becky prepared), I assumed that the tournament anglers would be well fed … and a check of their Web site indicates that’s the case.

Catching captive stocked fish may not be for everyone, but those looking to introduce a newcomer or youngster to fly fishing would be hard pressed to do so in a more enjoyable setting with more pleasant and friendly hosts. And adding a bit of good-natured competition will surely be a hit.

If you’re interested in entering, call Delton or Becky at 568-3695. You can get more information at their Web site: www.fishinmaine.com.

And if you’re looking for a suggestion on a fly to use, I may be able to help you there. After several futile attempts a year ago, I stumbled onto a fly that caught fish on nearly every cast. That’s the way I remember it, at least.

If you’re entering the tourney you want to hear more, send me an e-mail … I’ll gladly share my secret with you.

Whether this year’s crop of fish share last year’s culinary preferences, of course, is anybody’s guess.

John Holyoke can be reached at jholyoke@bangordailynews.net or by calling 990-8214 or 1-800-310-8600.