Fast forward a week to this very day. One of the gentlemen that was fishing across from us last weekend turned out to be someone I knew through the grapevine and we both had heard fishing stories about one another. We became quick friends that day and he offered his boat which was chained up in the woods from a southern access point. A plan was instituted for my father and the mutual friend of this legend to join forces and go back for another round today.
400cfs last weekend rose to 800 cfs yesterday which is an ideal flow. The three of us arrived at the boat around 6:45ish and reached the fishing spot around 7:15. I immediately hooked a salmon in the second choice run (1st choice run was filled with guys yet again). The day appeared to be starting off on a good note.
We arrived at River B around 12:30. Four cars at the pullout; I feared this. Yesterday however I made good on allowing a friendly guide and his sport into the spot where I was crushing. Paid off today when he was at the same spot with other clients and relinquished the position to the three of us. He left by stating "Its not like it was yesterday; good luck"
After this battle I settled in trying to tempt a nice trout I could see holding along a boulder. The indicator was spooking the fish so I removed it. The fish would shift to the right and left each time my nymphs rolled perfectly on target. After many pattern changes I saw him begin to feed. He would rise up off the bottom by maybe a foot, open his mouth, and fall back to the bottom. Beadhead pheasant tail in the lead followed by a partridge and brown wet fly was put into action. The wet rode high as the beadhead ticked bottom; on the third cast the fish rose slowly and took the wet. We danced, and at the buzzer it came to net. G-Dubb has got the bug.