It was their shoulders, the top of their heads or noses that were breaking the surface. Rarely did I see a mouth gulp or sip the Olives or Pale mayflies. They were mainly on Emergers. It made for challenging angling. I stuck to one fly. No dropper. Low riding and surface piercing patterns: a soggy Usual, Klinks, some soft hackles. Many drifts were ignored/ rejected. Luckily many chances and with that some success.

Everything was green. And the warm sun mixed in with the occasional shower/spring storm made for some amazing lighting on the land and water. It was spellbinding. And the daily weather transitions often kick-started or augmented the hatches.

What was suppose to be a fairly long trip turned into a short five day one as my car engine indicator light came on and stayed on. Kind of unnerving. I was advised to put duct tape over the light so as it wouldn’t bother me and to keep on trucking and fishing. In spite of that “sound advice” I decided to make a premature run for home. I didn’t want to get stranded on some muddy back road, with poor or no cell coverage in the middle of nowhere. Frustrating as heck as the river was alive. It was buzzing. And the wind was never an issue. And because of that I got to explore and fish the lower river more.

On the drive home from this place I always say to myself: “It’s the best hatch river I’ve ever been on”. It’s also incredibly beautiful.