"The worst part of losing good fish is that you cannot release them. They tailwalk across the back of your mind for days." -- Christopher Camuto, A Fly Fisherman's Blue Ridge.
I've been thinking about a fish from Sunday. He hit the natural colored Sculpzilla hard and just at the very beginning of the drift. He surfaced, but did not break the water. I saw the flash and twist of his body just beneath the surface of the water. Then the line went slack. As I reeled in, I could feel the lightness of the line, the weightless slack. Sure enough, he had snapped the tippet with the powerful thrash of his body. I picture him, as Hemingway writes in "Big Two-Hearted River" when Nick Adams lost his trout: "He'd bet the trout was angry. Anything that size would be angry. That was a trout. He had been solidly hooked. Solid as a rock. He felt like a rock, too, before he started off. By God, he was a big one."
So, today, Tuesday morning, I think of that fish along the rock wall just below the tunnels in Elevenmile Canyon. I still see him rise just after striking. I feel his weight in the phantom rod in my hands. He tailwalks in the back of my mind.
Don't miss this fun day with special fly fishing presentations, doorbuster deals, casting demonstrations, drawings and prizes and more!
Women's Fly Tying class series: Class 3, Advanced tying techniques, Dry flies