A week or so ago Dylan and I headed down to the big D looking for some steel and we found what we were in search of. It is particularly noteworthy that all the fish we caught were of the native variety (huge bonus points). Yes, of course we got our photos and we got our video and the fish hit like freight trains and that is all well and good, but the highlight of the trip in my mind involved a fish that was not on the end of our lines.
This guy was hanging out at the top of a very hopeful run and captivated both of us for at least thirty minutes. We put the rods down and just watched him swim back and forth over a small redd, he was the only fish in sight. The experience was reminiscent of watching a tailing bonefish on some remote flat with that tail doing its thing, but without that adrenaline pumping “Okay it’s game time” mentality that sets in when you spot a bone. When you sweep, swing and step down time doesn’t quite stop, but it passes in a different way. Time just seemed to hold still for us and this gorgeous specimen of the river.