Did my first day of cold weather fishing yesterday with my son (13). Traveled up to Big Hunting Creek in north central Maryland. Ice and snow all over the banks and rocks, good flow, tempting pools. First area couldn't be passed by without getting a hook wet. Rigged up an imitation brown trout streamer and proceeded to play fisherman. To my dissmay, my line got hung up between some rocks midstream. Had pulled in a crevis and wouldn't budge. Without a stick long enough, and the rod was way to short, I had to leave the rod stream side and trudge back through the snow to the truck to put on a set of waders in order to rescue my fly.

All said to ask/pursue a different "line" of thought...to what length have you gone to "rescue" a fly? And/or, what was the most precarious errant jam that your offerings found themselves in? Body parts excluded. If this has been "threaded" before, please forgive me.

Warming up,
Mike K.

------------------
Live each day as if it were your last, some day you'll be right!