One of my favorite stream sections empties into a large reservoir three miles away. Weeks of river flooding delayed trips there and apparently altered the migration habits of some species. Initially, hopeful of encountering bass, I cast some large streamers without success before deciding to target the bluegill population. I expected to locate them among the branches of deadfalls and entice them with a Brim Reaper. Once again I was wrong. The flies were counted down into the branches and aggressively attacked by crappies. In thirty minutes of casting 11 slab-sized fish my Louisiana friends call “sac-a-lait” (which roughly translates to “sack of milk”) were wrenched from the structure before the action slowed. My move downstream to a similar location rekindled the action and 12 more of similar size were brought to hand and released. The crappies were all 3 1/2 to 4 feet deep and most inhaled the Brim Reaper as it was dropping vertically into their lairs. Line-watching for that telltale lurch or hesitation was imperative for a positive hookup. As darkness approached one of those “last casts” was hit immediately upon splashdown. It was a complete surprise that revealed the fly had been intercepted by a10-inch smallmouth bass. I drove home as a big, full, orange moon rose in the Eastern sky.