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51.8 °F
September 24, 2014
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Frustration


Just a foot or so downstream, trailing branches not only hung over the creek, but their tips were submerged in the current. The trout had a seemingly impregnable position. Every two or three minutes, the fish tipped up its nose and took another tidbit from the stream. I had found a feeding trout. Now, how was I going to show it my fly? If I had the casting ability of an Ed Van Put this would be a solvable problem. Well, let’s give it a try. First, lengthen line. Try to keep the back cast up lest the willows behind me snare the fly. Now, pin all hope on the forward cast. The fly is on its way. Gracious sakes, can you believe this? Somehow the fly landed perfectly placed, two feet above the nose of the fish. It drifted drag free right into the lie of the fish. This fish is mine. Well, not quite. At the last possible moment, the fly was caught by the currents and dragged like a little motorboat right over the nose of the fish. This alerted the trout that something was amiss. It promptly left the dining room. My hopeful imitation of Mr. Van Put came up just a few inches short. Indeed, I am the “tangler.”