My wife bought me a beautiful new vise for my upcomming birthday, and when it arrived I couldn't wait to tie somthing on it. The day finally came, and as I unpacked my stainless steel beauty my mind was filled with patterns and materials that were falling into place to form the perfect fly.
Alas, after much trial and error, I came up with a devious pattern that was sure to catch many fish by suprise. I had made the perfect gum beetle. It was awe inspiring. I could just tell by the way my shiny new vise gripped that size 10 that I was on to somthing big. Sure, I had made terrific looking hare's ears and the occasional flawless adam, but there was somthing about this beetle that was deadly not only to the eye, but to the touch and feel as well.
The cement was barely dry before I stuffed it into its place of glory within the confines of my flybox. This particular fly got to sit in the "special" row. You know what I'm talking about. That section of your flybox that carries all but your most successful patterns. I immediately grabbed my car keys and drove the 20 miles to a lake that I know to have some nice fish in. I never have much luck there, but I know that today is different. I approach the shore and look deep into the water where I can see alot of underwater plants and algae just high enough to almost touch the top surface. And there they are. The fish have nestled down with their heads on an upward angle waiting for some insect to accidentally fall into their trap. This was the perfect opportunity. I drew my newly made beetle pattern and tied it onto my 3lb tippet. I scanned the algae field looking for the perfect target to slowly drop my fly down in front of. After finally choosing my victim, I pulled some line off my reel, and with talent on loan from Lefty Kreh himself, I began to backcast.
This is the part of the story where I forgot to check behind me and got my fly caught into a %$#!@#$! pine tree and broke my damn leader trying to pull it out. I was so angry I immediately got in my car and left.