right where he had been standing, without a sound, without a ripple, without the slightest hint of how it got there. Perfection! His burst maneuver was flawed by some noise, but the rules do not allow deduction from the hat trick itself for that. It was a 10. I should mention he went on, within minutes, to hook and land his first ever fish, a steelhead at that, on a fly. I imagine the next day he died and went to heaven, 'cause I've never seen him again. Water clarity has a great influence on synchronized wading. Some rivers, like the Deschutes, define where you can wade by what you can see. If you can see bottom structure on the Deschutes, it is less than wader-top depth. I'll guarantee it! That definitely cannot be said about rivers like the McKenzie, North Umpqua, and others. But it is certainly true of the Deschutes. But even that knowledge has it's dangers. My fishing partner, Dave Carlson, who is so tall he can wade dryly where I need a snorkel, and I were fishing together on the Deschutes one afternoon, working up the edge of the river side by side, alternating fishing duties with each jumped or landed fish. We worked upriver until we climbed out on a large island of bedrock that projected out into the river. Trees blocked direct access to the shore itself. Walking on dry bedrock is easy, no challenge there, but we wanted to fish beyond. The upstream side of the island dropped into Deschutes green. Just at the shore side I could see the color of a ledge. "How deep do you think it is", Dave asked, probing with his rod. "You can wade it, I can see the bottom", I said, pointing. I should perhaps mention here that I have a reputation for brutal, unflinching honesty. Dave confidently stepped in. Except I was standing in front of the visible ledge and he was two feet to my side on the river side. And he stepped straight in. Well, it was a pretty poor excuse for a hat trick. He certainly didn't "rip" it, rocking and splashing and all, and it was an anemic missile burst because he couldn't touch bottom for trying, just sort of floated back up. But to his credit he did show the requisite excitement. After I retrieved his hat, and then him, and stopped laughing, which took quite a while, he accused me. "You said I could touch!" "But I meant right here where you can SEE the bottom", I said, pointing again, "not there where you can't, you idiot". Well, Dave dripped and sputtered for awhile while I sat warmly on the bedrock in the sun, then he smiled.
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