
Recently I fished a new river. It was a wide waterway with miles set apart for catch and release. I knew that it was filled with trout, and that it had been fishing well the week prior to my trip. So even though finding a spot and locating fish was a little daunting, I had faith that I could get into something soon enough.
Once I was in the water, I was excited to see that there were prime riffles, runs, and pools as far as the eye could see in both directions. It really appeared to be an embarrassment of fishy riches. A strong, fast rainbow on my second cast all but confirmed to me that it was going to be a good day.
Then things slowed down.
I nymphed every good lie. Hard. Constantly adjusting my weight and the position of my strike indicator, I probed some of the most beautiful and fishy looking water I’d seen in some time. All morning and into the afternoon it was the same thing: hours of nothing, nothing, nothing, FISH! …another hour of nothing, nothing, nothing, FISH! ANOTHER FISH!
Sitting on a rock, I tried to decipher the pattern. It felt like I was fishing with great focus and determination. But the results were a hair below intermittent. I could keep playing nymph roulette, hoping that I stumbled inexplicably upon more trout. Or, I could make much more out of an infrequent all-day trip to a river hours away from home. read more









