I just got back from a quick evening trip to the Bear. I walked a bit further down the river than I normally do because there’s another large pool that I haven’t tried. It’s been really hot lately and the fish have not been rising so I tried a prince nymph on a 4 foot tippet with a strike indicator to see if I could get any reaction.
I call this kind of fishing “prospecting”.
It was a pretty evening. I had one spot about thigh deep where I could cast to a wide swath of river from upstream, just below some riffles, to a downstream calm pool. After about 30 minutes of prospecting and not a single strike or rise I decided to move back upstream a bit.
On my way up I noticed a little pool between two large riffles. The water was moving pretty fast, but there were a couple of eddies where fish could hide.
On the past few trips I noticed that the mayflies weren’t around any more. The only bugs I saw were black gnats and water spiders. But if I fish with those I can’t see the fly on the water. So this morning I tied a couple of black water spiders with a small parachute of white Antron yarn so I could see it. The one I picked wasn’t hackled enough and it sank after only a few drifts so I had to keep drying it out.
Just about the time I’m ready to move on I saw a splash. Sure enough he was in that eddy. The water was moving fast enough that if I placed the fly at the top of that eddy the rest of the river would pull the fly line down and I’d get drag. It really taught me how to mend my line and set up for a tight little drift. 2 feet of drift was about normal, if I could get 4 feet before the water grabbed my line I was doing well.
I had the smallest hit and lost him. But I just kept drifting my fly as well as I could over that spot. The drifts were so short I was casting 4 or 5 times a minute. I just kept presenting the fly as perfectly as I could knowing that in this quick moving water the fish would have to make a quick decision or he’s miss his chance at some food. Sure enough, he hit it and I set the hook.
I could tell from the fight that he was tiny. I didn’t want to loose him off of the barbless hook so I just pulled the line in by hand. When I saw him I had to laugh at how small he was. He was MAYBE 6" long but he fought and splashed all the way in. I was able to get him unhooked and back in the water before he knew what had caught him.
As the little brook trout swam off to his pool I just stood there laughing. I had tied a special fly to match the hatch and worked that particular eddy perfectly while mending my line to produce a drag free float in difficult conditions and it all came together and worked as planned. I caught another one. And then he turns out to be smaller than my hand. 
Oh well, Go on and grow up little one. Maybe we’ll see each other again someday.
I moved up the river and tried a couple of other spots but the fish weren’t rising at all. I think it’s just been too hot. I saw some slow rises up river so I moved further upstream where I could quietly drift a fly down to them. After a few dozen cast the sun was well below the mountain tops and the bats were out. It was getting too dark to see the fly even with the Antron parachute. I told myself “Ok, Last cast and then we go home.” I roll the line out and let the fly drift down. Out of nowhere my entire line shakes and pulls. As I set the hook I realize what happened. One of the bats grabbed my fly, flew for a few feet and then dropped it.
OK, that’s a good sign that I’m done for the evening. It’s time to go home and have dinner and a beer. As I hike out in the dark I had to smile at how things came together tonight. I tied a fly that I knew they would hit and I prospected a spot where the fish should be. I worked a difficult drift in swift waters and everything I’ve been learning for the past 5 months came together to catch another fish.
If I’m not careful I might start thinking I know what I’m doing out there. :lol: