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We're in the home stretch now; the season closes on Sunday.
I rolled over the ridge on a different road this afternoon, one that provides this overlook of the valley I call home.
Things were blessedly quiet. As I neared the south end of my lake I was hoping the fishermen camped there were also gone. They were. One even left a nice stack of firewood. I helped myself, this being wood scrounging season.
So I and the trout and three Great Blue Herons had the lake to ourselves.
I was eager to try out Little Bomber 2. I got the colors right this time, but maybe left the head a little big. Didn't seem to matter; I wasn't able to get any surface strikes today, on any fly, even though the fish were up and feeding enthusiastically.
So I tied the soft hackle on as a dropper fly. That worked, as long as I was moving it.
I still wanted one on top, so spent some time trying the CDC caddis, a black mayfly pattern, and a tiny BWO pattern. I thought each one was a pretty fair imitation of the midges--some fairly big--on the water. But the fish didn't think so, and the rises slowed down and then quit completely before dark.