Several respectable Salmon up to 18" came to net. Not bad I thought, given the way the morning had started, and given that I never had truely given any respect to this spot. Only thing that could make this better would be to have a few fish rising......wish granted.
After losing a couple of fish in the swift current, I started getting into them hard. I landed a handfull of really nice 16" chubby brookies, followed by at least a half dozen brookies and salmon in the 12" range.It was nice to see some fresh tails, pectoral fins, and gill plates on these fish, a sure sign that they hadn't been stocked in the past year or so. These fish were full of fight, and I can't emphasize how fat and healthy they were compared to other brookies their length.
It was getting on toward 3 p.m, the caddis were still exploding, and I figured I would move back upstream to the original hole, fish for an hour or so, and then hop on the bike for the 60 mile ride home.After 20 minutes of fishing with limited luck, I noticed a GMC truck pull up along the river's edge behind me. Undeterred, I fished on. As I reeled my line in to relinquish my position to the intruders I heard a yell, "Wilkie!", "Dude, I can't believe you're still here". The words of BFC emeritus T. Sawyer Fahy and his '05 Bates brother of the long Rod, Mr. Frost. I smiled, as I had phoned Sawyer in the wee hours of the morning hoping to get him on the water that day, but as a result of prior obligations he was unable to join me. We exchanged handshakes as the two rigged their rods and I told them of my epic day alone on the river. I sat on a boulder content to watch these two men try their luck in the pool that had been so productive in the early morning. Frost was explaining this cripple fly that he loves to tie, while I exchanged thoughts with him regarding my recent quitting of dip and my constant cravings. While discussing cripple flies and dip, Frost pulls out a pack of swisher sweets, and sparks one up. Intrigued, I asked him for one. Frost then flipped his fly out into the water and begins walking backwards to my position on the bank to offer me a cigar. Just as we made the exchange he bellowed, "I've got one on!". The hookup had been made while the cripple skipped across the surface as Dan had walked back to me to hand me the cigar....simply rediculous.....and what a Salmon!