The wild rainbow trout that hangs out near a bridge in my neighborhood was waiting this past weekend for me to show up and try to fool him again with a scruffy looking dry fly. I have caught trout at this bridge before, though I doubt they were the same fish I saw Monday as I drove into the next county over the Parkway.
I was careful not to let my shadow hit the water while I took the photo. He looked like a good-sized trout, all alone in the little pool of water just off the main road.
I crept under the bridge and, still bent over at the waist, I let loose with a fine cast that landed softer than a baby's sigh.
Trouble was, though, at that exact moment the fish was distracted by a REAL mayfly and scooted away to make a splashy meal.
My next cast was a disaster. Ka-splash! the line went. Goodbye! the trout went ... upstream.
It got better in the afternoon and I caught dozens of little wild brook trout over in Haywood County up near, uh, those big rocks or something.
They were hitting light cahills and loved my parachute flies. I saw some little yellow stoneflies in the air also.