Cracking the Code
Thirty feet below a fish slowly cruised the bank. Quietly stripping line I prepared to cast. The bug landed just around a rock a few feet in front of the fish. Working lazily the fish noticed the fly and casually gulped it from the surface.
Earlier, Matt had cracked the code. I had hooked a couple fish but hadn’t managed to get a single one to my feet. Matt needed two hands to count the number of fish he’d landed. Given the finicky golden trout we were after that was an accomplishment. Deciding to go back to camp and cook dinner Matt handed me the fly that seemed to have the magic. It worked, not 10 minutes had gone by before I landed my first fish.
The fly was the last thing in the box I would have tried. Everything I knew about golden’s told me to throw something else. Once I saw what Matt was using I hesitantly threw some flies that were similar. Similar wasn’t cutting it. They wanted the exact fly.