I went out for carp today. The chosen water was a small pond connected by culvert to a larger lake. It is often the feeding ground of big commons. I saw one immediately upon arrival. I tried in vain to get a fly in front of him. Luckily another showed up, and began mudding in the roots of some vegetation. I waited and watched him for a while. He was a very good fish, 15, maybe 16 pounds. I got very close to him, being that his head was buried in a muddy cloud. I was able to dap the fly right on his nose, and he sucked it in willingly.
It was off to the races. The fish took off, paralleling the bank of the roughly circular pond for about 100 ft. At one point I could feel taps on the line, which no doubt were roots dangling from the steep and undercut parts of the bank. I turned the big boy and He came back very reluctantly, then attempted a run into a bush. I wouldn't allow that. The fish then took a move I did not expect. I came into shallow water, shoved his face into the leaf litter, and... succeeded at dislodging the hook.
I quietly sat down on the bank and watched the water. No feeding fish showed themselves for the better part of an hour. I left in a funk. I don't get that many chances to get into a nice carp, and it stinks to blow it. Tomorrow is a new day, and Dalton and I plan to go out in the kayaks somewhere. Maybe I will get lucky and find an even bigger carp to prick.