The next day we went a little further up the river closer to the hot springs. This part of the river looked promising. Further up the river, my father in-law Rick, found a section that the fish were popping everywhere. All three of us put on our best flies and started casting. I put on a small PMD and I was getting takes on it all throughout the day. I could see a big fish rising on the far side of the river. There were multiple currents running through the river so I knew I was going to have to put in the perfect place and be ready. I laid the line out, just above the fish; I watched as the fly came a across the fish, BOOM! A take on the fly! I pulled up quick to set the hook… I missed him.
Determined to catch this fish I gave it another go. BOOM! Another take… still again I could not set the hook! I gave it a little time before trying that spot again. When I saw the fish start rising again, I gave it another shot… BOOM! Another take on the fly. I pulled up and set the hook this time. It was a bit of a battle getting the fish in fighting through a few currents and trying to keep him on top of the vegetation, but I was able to land the fish.
This fish is one I will remember. There is something about the hunt that bakes in these memories and makes them last. Seeking out the fish. Studying the water for the best approach. Then, once the strategy is in place, giving the perfect presentation that makes a bunch of hair and feathers irresistible to the fish.