I woke up at 4:30 this morning to head to one of the local tribs and swing some flies. I guess I thought there was a chance in hell that maybe, just maybe there would be a brown or two that had slipped in early and would reward me for an early rise and the effort. I was wrong. A disturbing trend. Very little water, floating masses of weeds and lukewarm bathwater river temps don't exactly scream trib fishing. Maybe the cool air temp and changing leaves deceived me. Nature can be cunning and cruel, with a smug grin all the while. It's the sickness that infects a person who has felt the tug of a lake or sea run fish. Was I foolish in my attempt? A grab wasn't probable, but it was possible. That's all I needed. A cold front is coming tomorrow with a strong likelihood of rain. I feel like a kid waiting for Christmas.
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