It was in many ways a perfect evening.
It was hot, calm, quiet--road dust hung in the air.
The fish were...introspective.
It seemed that small was the new big. No fish would come to a muddler. When they came up at all it was to sip one of the swarming midges.
I clipped the muddler. This time I would go intuitive rather than counter to it. I cast up along the bank where a fish had come up once. I waited, and it finally came up again--and I had it, a red-cheeked beauty.
I fooled it. Who would have thought that the man in the familiar float tube who always throws big muddlers had matched the hatch with a fine little #18 griffith's gnat on 5X tippet?
The word went out. No more fish were fooled.
It didn't matter. How can you improve on perfection?
I don't think you can.
ReplyDeleteWay to trick them trout, Jim. They are going to have to do a little extra homework now if they want to send you home skunked. Although, how can one be unhappy with beautiful scenery like that.
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