Only the Big Ones Get Away

My father and I spent five hours today on the Salmon. We picked through a large section of the river, first using nymphs and split shot to get to fish. The first creature I encountered was a centipede on a log. I have always found these bugs fascinating. My first trout came is a deep, slow pool. It was a Brook Trout, and he ate a bead head Pheasant Tail.

The next fish to take the PT was a beastly Rainbow, and it new exactly what to do. As I whooped and hollered in excitement, it ran right to the nearest brush, where it tangled up and broke off. I was crushed. 

The next five fish were Bluegills, so we moved on. My father and I got busy catching trout. We doubled up right away, mine being a Brown Trout. Shortly later I was hooked up again, and a jumping bow came right at my face! I landed and photographed him. The next was a Brook Trout, roughly the size of the first and just a pretty.

The very next cat had me hooked into another big rainbow, who rain and the shook his head to succesfully spit the nymph. Another big fish gone. Fortunately, I was permitted another chance just five minutes later. Another bow, this one pushing sixteen inches (and fat too) ate the Hair's Ear. Somehow I lost him too. I didn't loose one small fish all day, just the big boys. 

We spent the rest of the evening at the Handicapped Pool in the fly only section. A big caddis hatch provided plenty of risers, and I managed to land a few. It was getting dark, so one trout was able to take my Summer Caddis seven times without me hooking him. The last fish of the evening was a colorful Rainbow.

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