|A bright June afternoon on the Farmington|
|A nicely colored pocket water brown|
|Photo courtesy of MA Stephens|
As the afternoon progressed there was a nice hatch of isonychia coming off. We could occasionally here a splash as a fish would take one in the fast, boulder filled runs. The birds on the other hand were making the most of the table spread before them. I took a break to enjoy the aerial circus, as the cedar waxwings dove and turned to intercept a recently hatched bug. The number and speed of the birds made me wonder how they avoided flying into one another.
With a good number of isos hatching, I thought that I could tempt a brown to take a large comparadun in the boulder runs if I could get a decent drift and sure enough, a nice fish took it. I had a battle on my hands to stay connected, as the hefty fish headed through the boulders. I managed to hang on for a little but eventually the fly popped out. I never really got a look at the fish. I had another take or two but again, nothing brought to net. Even though the fish have a edge in this type of water, I love fishing big flies in heavy current.
|Photo courtesey of S Guilmartin|
a nice fish occasionally rising underneath some low hanging trees and just in front of a large rock along the opposite shore. The current between me and the rising fish was strong and the only way to get a good drift into that tight corner was to get above it and cast down and across and feed line to get a decent drift. When the fish moved upstream slightly, I was able to put the fly over it and it was game on! After a handful of strong runs, I managed to guide it out of the strong current and behind some boulders where I could chase it down and get the net underneath it.
|One of my larger Farmington brown this season|
After a little bit another fish was working in the same spot but closer to the large rock tucked back under the trees. I manged to get back into a good position and drift the fly further into the corner. As the fly passed along the side of the rock, the brother or sister of the first fish crushed the cahill and another strong fish was on the end of the line. This one managed to tie itself around a dead branch that was wedged in the rocks on the bottom. I tried to wade to the branch to see if I could free the fish but as I tried to work the line around the branch, the tippet snapped just below surgeons knot. I could see that the tippet had taken a beating from the day's battles among the boulders.
As darkness fell, our large flies were being ignored. From the gentle rises I was observing, it looked like the fish were taking spinners, so I traded the large fly for the small and the last fish of the day fell to a #18 sulfur spinner.