or two on very small dry flies. Then there was some time for exploring and blind casting with wet flies while waiting for another hatch which would usually bring on three or four more fish, then another lull. If the wind came up, that was the signal for some nap time until the evening period, when there was again
rise period during which one could hang fish to 20-21 inches on small dry flies again.
That fourth day, I knew I was in trouble. I was bored. Actually, at the moment I knew I was bored, I had the thing wired again, getting a hit about every sixth cast. But I had been fishing the same water for days, the same flies, the same way, heck, even the same fish. Another pull, another breakoff, what the heck, another 19 1/2 inch rainbow, what the heck. One can roll and rut in one's fantasies only so long until the old emotional fatigue factor sets in. Time for a change.
We could have simply gone to a different nearby lake, gotten on some new water, new fish, but it would have been more work to locate the fish as well as we had in the original lake, and they would have been the same old boring 19-20 inchers. One aspect of the problem was that we had fished the same lake two weeks before, and it had been hotter then. It finally came down to the simple fact that the excitement of another pull, screaming reel, long run, jumps, chasing the fish through and around weeds and tules, then the splashing "end game" before the measurement and release, was no longer worth the effort of making six or seven more casts.
Time to go. Time to move on, find other water, other fishing, other fish.
We ended up driving to The Dalles where I have a mobile home for fishing and other purposes, and we wanted to explore some ponds and lakes in the area that we knew nothing about. Really had no idea what we would find. Sounded exciting!
