Monday, February 17, 2014

I stepped into the water at the inside of a nice long U-turn in the stream with the flow moving right to left. I tossed my fly almost directly across the current, wiggled out some line and let the tasty morsel drift downstream into a nice seam. As the fly reached the furthest point and began to swing across the current, I gave it a few jerks and immediately felt a nice hit. He fought bravely as I worked him throughout the grassy shallows.

Sunday, February 9, 2014

The Good Fight

Once submerged, my noble adversary was in his element and he wasted no time in heading for the protection of a fallen tree. I, precariously balanced on the most algae covered of rocks, almost joined my foe as I took it on a knee and nearly witnessed his attempted escape from an underwater perspective. Like a waterskier's rooster tail, my line cut the water as it slashed side to side across the stream. In a desperate attempt to avoid capture, the fish went Kamikaze and made a beeline right for me. I reeled in line with all the speed and dexterity I could muster. Just when I thought he would pass between my legs and confound my efforts, entangling me in my own double-tapered web, he made a break and took the newly reeled line with him. My reel sang the sweetest melody that to a fly fisher's ears is akin to nirvana, a song from the gods. Only Scylla and Charybdis could match the hypnotizing sound.