It was a lot of driving for not many fish. I was hoping for Hendricksons. Nope.

With a stiff, cold breeze and water at 44 °F, not many fish showed themselves. I didn’t see any anglers with fish on, but I decided to keep at it to get some payback for all the drive time.

Eventually, two decent fish came to the net. They were holding at the tail end of a run, where the river had gouged a deep trough. I couldn’t find any other takers.

Just above it, I found a decent slot behind a boulder. It was a transition area, where the water color went dark. It was deeper than I had thought: my sighter dipped down as the water went from shallow to deep and never ticked bottom. I had a feeling that fish could be there. I didn’t want to lose flies, as that stretch is filthy with old sticks. So, I added a small split shot to my tightlining rig. On the next cast, I hit a snag.

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I waded upstream to try and free the flies and soon saw that the “snag” had moved.

Eventually, a big ‘bow came to the net. It taped at 21″ for length and 13″ for girth. It was clearly a stockie, and so, I’m not celebrating about it. But on a quiet day, it was fun to see such a hog of a fish battle and eventually flop into my net, which seemed way too small. A fish is a fish!

Once home, I popped a cold one and looked forward to a hot shower.

A happy Sunday to all. My the Pork Be With You, too!