Revive - A Quarterly Fly Fishing Journal Revive- Farewell Issue - Page 140

The ceiling feels lower here than in other places I have fished in. The rivers rush to plains. The plains rush to the mountains and the mountains have no room between them and the sky. The sky also rushes down and inhabits the rivers. That is the only explanation for the color of the water here. Blue that cannot be quantified or qualified, only seen and experienced.

I first saw the waters of Slovenia 4 years ago or so on one of the short films that are so ubiquitous on todays fly fishing media scene. I vividly remember thinking that I had seen this place before. South Island. New Zealand. Rocky outcroppings dusted up high with snow and deep lush green space everywhere between the rocks and the water with its all encompassing blue luring you in to wondering what perfect specimens could be lurking below. New Zealand right? No. A 20-something year old nation somewhere between Italy and Russia it turns out. Slovenia. The place of dreams and peace that no one ever knew.

A four country tour brought me here to taste the peaceful and tranquil life lived by the amazingly warm and content people that I was blessed enough to interact with. Although my mind went only to the waters that wound around the border of Italy and this great Slovenian space I quickly realized that I was entering in to more of an experience than any one single river could give me visually or experientially. Much like my times in Yellowstone there is a surreal-ness to the drive as you become enveloped in scenery that is unfortunately going past at the pace of modern life and schedules.