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I took advantage of another beautiful, mild day and headed for the river.
I got there a little earlier than last time, taking advantage, too, of the last evening before the time change.
I started at the bridge run again and took my time. I covered a lot of water but raised no fish.
I was eager to check out the other run, so I waded across at the bridge and headed upstream.
I worked this run pretty well, too, and got a grab at the tailout. The fly was deep, but It didn't feel like a steelhead grab. I switched to an unweighted fly and concentrated on the tailout. I had two big swirls at the fly, but no real take.
Steelhead? Playing it cagey? Don't know. I tend to doubt it, but I won't know until I manage to catch whatever it is. It's one of the things that gives my life direction from day to day.
At dusk I waded across a gravel bar at the tailout. It's shallow but very swift, and dumps into a deep trough on the downstream side. The current took my feet out from under me here last year--or, more accurately, took the gravel right out from under my boots--and I took a bath. This time I made it safe and dry.
I didn't raise anything, but I figured it was a good way to use that extra hour we get tonight.