Keith and I had been tossing around the idea for a week or so to hit some northern flowing water in Maine. The plan experienced a slight shift late last week before the actual date when two young bucks, from our alma mater, suddenly appeared on the BFC Facebook site. These men posted pictures of large fish, had mutual friends, and expressed interest in fishing with us. As with many of our own connections, we didn't waste time making contact with eachother and a plan was formed for the old men to connect with the younger generation of the BFC.
But like any good Bates fisherman who get lost on 12 miles of dirt for nearly 2 hours....they showed up in the eleventh hour.
Hands were shaken, introductions made, Wilkie refocused, spirts high.
First order of business, Tyler setup nymphing, Andy setup streamering.
As a seasoned veteran of the long wand, I was immediately sizing up the new recruits.....I wasn't dissappointed; these boys could throw some line. Game on!
I had been telling these guys of the fabled hatch along this stretch that sometimes happens and I hoped against all hope that it would happen. Then again, fishing is fishing so I fully expected to get bitch slapped after opening my mouth about it.
Tyler picked off 4 or 5 Salmon in the intial stretch below the falls while nymphing up until 4:45. There were a few respectable fish upwards of 16" in the mix. I kept an eye on the prime stretch for rising fish....and when I saw a dimple I moved to hold the position. I picked off a few Salmon and around 5:45 an astounding Drake hatch (specific mayfly unknown) began to explode into the evening air. I beckoned the boys from upstream, set them up a few yards apart in the prime stretch, told them to time their casts so as to not cross lines, and tied on some monster mayfly dries. First cast from Andy produced this fine hookjawed male.
Tyler's pig came as the light drifted well over the horizon....another nice hookjaw on this male