when they run through the weeds. As I fin back toward the bridge when the water goes dead, I think to check the gulper spot and sure enough, there is a big head nodding regularly. I make one good first cast for a change, and the fish finds it in about 5 seconds. This time I hook up solid and land a 19 1/2 inch fish. Still can't break that 20 barrier. Best day yet on the Creek. I'm later than I intended getting on the Wood, starting at the same place as yesterday, at the bottom of the catch-and-release water at the first bridge upstream from Hailey. Since I know the water from yesterday, and roughly where the fish are holding, I have a better day. I work much further upstream this time, and again I'm puzzled by much good water that gives nothing, and other lesser spots that hold fish willing to rise. My usua assumption at those times is that the hole is dominated by a big fish that has driven out all the rest. Probably should switch to nymphs but I'm not that hard up to bother. Overall I decide that the water from the highway bridge to the East Fork bridge is the best, and the water from the East Fork Bridge to the point where the river swings back next to the highway is not worth the walk. At that point the river is all in one channel again and the water is very interesting. I walk back to the van on the brand new asphalt bike path they are paving from Bellevue all the way to Sun Valley on an old railroad bed. One could spot a bike, or better yet carry rollerblades, which everyone around here is using, and save oneself the long walk back. At the van, I can't help trying the bridge hole again where I know there is a big fish. This time I take him, 16 inches. A great way to end the day. Overall I caught about 20 fish, 5-6 between 13-16 inches. Day 7 - My last morning. When I pull out from the morning's fishing I'll backtrack 1/4 mile to US 20 and turn west for good on the Oregon Trail. I've gotten to Kilpatrick early since the hatch was underway yesterday when I arrived. The weather has turned to unsettled with rain visible in the Sawtooths to the north, and it's colder. The wind has reversed, now from the west, so it will straighten out the cast naturally on a downstream delivery. The hatch barometer, that school of fish that hangs downstream of the bridge with six and eight pound fish hanging around on the bottom like so many cigar store indians hired by the Ketchum Chamber of Commerce, is silent. Not a rise in sight. I'm sitting in the van typing this right now thanks to the marvels of a laptop computer, listening to the Sandhill Cranes rattling in the distance. I might try something really radical, like the Bloodworm. But how will I leave if it works? Maybe I'll go fishing. I have defied fate by buying a landing net. Predictably, the wind reverses again to upstream. I fin around for awhile chasing the very rare rise, waiting for the hatch. I've decided I should try a floating nymph, ala emerger style since all the symptoms are there that the fish are keying on that stage; all the duns let go by, hits on the dun pattern only in the
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