Could've been the pouring rain first thing in the morning. Could've been the change in pressure as the clouds rolled out. Could've been the time of day. Could've been the section of river. Could've been the beers we started drinking at 9 am. Could've been the 600 people already on the river at daybreak. Could've been the fast-dropping waters. Could've been the temperature outside. Could've been the wrong fly line color. Could've been the gangster white hat I chose to wear. Could've been the fact the Scott and Nate pulled their prene-socks up to their knees. Could've been lots of things... but it turns out we only caught 4 fish because of the L.O.F.T. Thank you Scott Lyons (and Jim Reid).
Nate's crane style gets 'em every time.
Proof's in the puddin'.
When in doubt, get the hell out... which is what we did. otherwise the fish count would've stayed at 4.
Now converted to urban mugger cammo.
Beans Sousa is the man... look it up. Long live the Cutthroat Saloon!
Nothing spectacular here... just another trip to Pollywood. Ran out of time to take a load of garbage from my mom's to the dump, so my brother-in-law and I took the liberty of filling that work time with a couple hours of hydropescifraudation. It's always seems to be good on the South Fork this time of year. Dry fly heaven.