Gnarlito wrote:


But something happened while I was false casting in that stretch. It
was like every cast back and forth was pumping happiness back into my
heart.

It does that, doesn't it?

After finishing out the stretch I had been fishing, I walked back to my
car and drove downstream about a mile. I saw another long relatively
smooth run with some riseforms and pulled over. I caught about 6 more
smaller ones, and after I had put down the rest of the fish, I dredged
the run with a huge weighted golden stone nymph and caught a 15"
beauty, the fish of the day. I broke down my rod after that fish,
figuring it wouldn't get much better.

I do that, too. End the day on a good note.

My last memory of the river
was of driving by a long slick at dusk. There was just enough light to
see a series of concentric rings spreading against the far bank.

Very cool.

Thanks for sharing.

Steve