We'd been playing with a fish for the 3rd time now. Make that the fish was playing with us. We'd missed and spooked an 8 - 9# brown in the tailout of a run twice. The third time Amelia was up. The water was slightly off color from a big dump of rain that took 3 days to clear - a long time for this river - it was a lot of rain. The trout was down a little deeper with the extra flow and low temps. The first cast AJ took was a great one, it came right down the seam on the inside sandy flat. The fish moved over and took the fly, its huge white mouth opening and closing mere feet in front of us. A split second later the dry fly went down, telling us what was so blatant. AJ set the hook and the fight was on. It took the nymph, turned for the current and before it realized it wouldn't have to rip into AJ's backing, before AJ realized the backing wouldn't be revisited, the nymph popped out. Both seemed stunned as AJ stopped and the fish went back to its lie, both stunned that was the end of the show.
Dave, however, fell to his knees in exasperation that we'd missed the damned fish three times, and the third effort was as close to a sure thing as anyone could hope for. Ah well, there's always tomorrow.
Here's what the nymph looked like seconds after losing the big one...
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