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I'm a dry fly fisher. I live and breathe dry flies or topwater fishing. There's nothing like seeing a fish come to the surface and take your fly. I've gotten fairly decent at it over the years. After that, my second love is streamer fishing but only when there's no hope for a dry.
Last and least of all, I will begrudingly nymph fish, which means going under the surface down deeper with the fly. Only when I have to. I'm not that good at nymphing but on the Caney, I'm firmly convinced, cause David tells me so, I have to do it sometimes if I want to catch fish. For most of this trip, I took David's good advice and cast (not one, but two) nymphs. As I forced myself to fish this way, I learned a some things and am getting better at ti. All the fish above were caught on a nymph.
But as the afternoon wore on and things got slower and slower, stiller and stiller, I found myself beginning to disconnect from my rod, my fly and the river. My mind started to wander as I wondered how far it was to the take-out.
My enthusiasm was drying up, my focus disappearing and worse of all my cast was getting terribly sloppy. My eyes began to glaze over. I was coming unglued before my, and David's eyes. I thought for while and then I made the decision to rebel! I realized I couldn't take nymphing no mo!
"David, I'm done nymphing today. If I'm going to not catch fish this afternoon, then I'm going to not catch them my way. I want to go back to the surface on a dry. At least I can entertain myself and perhaps get my interest back. Shall we tie one on?"
David couldn't have been more supportive. He agreed it was time to jazz things up.
"Got a great hopper pattern I want you to try," he said as he pulled it out. "Go for it; we're coming to a great rocky bank around the corner and it's gonna work fine," he assured me....
Within ten minutes I hooked a big fish and lost him. It didn't matter. My adrenaline and focus were starting to rise. I was having fun again.....
The rest is history: The rocks. The cast. The float. The take. The hook-set. The fight. The play. The net. The photos of the biggest rainbow---20''--of the season in David's boat. It was a beauty and it was a team effort! Then the release back to the wild. We were both completely pumped.
The moral of this story? If I told you I'd have to kill you. So I'll let you figure it out..... but who was it that said, "To thine own self be true? Then thou cans't not be false to any man?"
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