One for the Books

Sometimes this river gives.  No morning wind, light cloud cover, not too hot, not too cold, no layering needed, a great run to fish, just enough bugs, willing participants, long tippets, big flies, no gulls, and . . . shall I go on?  The river seems to give less often in recent years, and I've seen it better in the past, but today was the best of the season so far.  All day, from 9 to 4.  Nothing to drink, no food, no pee break, nada.   Just catching, missing, losing, and refusing.  Lotsa catching.  It was complete.

It was MO-like, only at a Fork pace.  More methodical.  Stalk like a heron, get the eat, wrestle it out of the weeds a few times, get it to the landing zone, net and release (with a picture of a few).   By the time the moss was cleared from the fly, everything dried, and I'd catch my wind enough, the next victim would start rising from the spooked flat.  Each hooked fish would put 'em all down, but they'd come back up in under 10 minutes.

For a while it looked like I'd fish one fly all morning, but it finally got chewed beyond use and flotation.  I think I'll keep it on a patch, inside, for a year or two.  The mahogany count was just enough to see a couple at any one time, just enough to keep the fish looking for 'em but not selective, and just enough to fish a dun with success this afternoon.  Not many duns made it down the flat alive.

And to think that at 7am this morning, I was camped in another drainage, in another state, fully intending to fish elsewhere this morning.  Ya, right!  When I saw that cloud cover, I knew I couldn't be anywhere else.  And I damn sure know where I'll be in the morning for one last hurrah before the weekend.

Cool, cloudy start.  You could feel it.

First time I've tied on a Sri Lanka this season.  There was this one fish doin' it before I ever got in the water.  He ate it.  It didn't end well.  I'm not looking forward to #20 bwo fishing.

A perfect run.  Flat water.  Deeper drop at the bottom.  Fishy bank on the left.  Converging current in the middle.  Landing zone on the right.  The place to myself.

 A little angel dust powder, and they just ate it and ate it.  Pheasant, copper, and dark "bi=visible" partridge. #18 

It became tattered and working.

 We had some great times together, this fly and I.

Odd little spots of missing scales.  (That net is 20" inside length)

The flat stayed flat, and the fish kept coming up.

Fish were eating duns, so I took the opportunity

When the afternoon wind finally came up, the left bank was protected by the bluff and trees.  The fish were easy to spot, and cast to.

Upright duns!  

They chewed those up too!  Biots don't last like ribbed pheasant.

The best for last.  Mr. Tank.