Sam may have crushed the will of this piggy little fish...
Booyakasha!...but I made up for it in numbers.
Water was high, colored-up pretty good, and damn cold. Bite was off and we worked pretty hard for less than 10 fish between the three of us. I don't think it was fly selection, I took out every tool in the shed. I just think the flows have put the fish down for the most part. We probably left right as the flows were stabilizing in the afternoon, which I'm guessing was prime time... oh well... Lots of bugs... No fish heads. Just a couple of splashes that could've been anything.I was eyeballin' Gregg's 5/6 switch rod as we were rigging up, wishin' I had one... winds kicked up around 11, and casting an indicator was like peein' in the wind. Nothing good ever comes from that...
Gregg was slicin' through that wind like Vader through Kenobi, while Sam and I hacked our way up and down the river. We may have caught more fish than Gregg, but I'm guessing his arms weren't fubar'd like mine after 6 hours of violent casting.Next on the wish list... switch rod, 4wt, 11'6"....
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