A day or two ago, the river I chose to fish was slightly off-color from recent rains, but that shouldn’t have caused an hour and a half of fruitless casting. Suddenly, the wind quickened and distant thunder announced a downpour. In 20 minutes the storm passed and I waded into a casting position upstream from the low water bridge. Like a switch had been flipped, fish began hitting aggressively. Smallmouth bass slammed streamers in the pool’s tailout and a variety of sunfish inhaled dry flies in the quiet water behind a log. An intense peach-colored sunset ended the evening. ‘Tis a pleasure to live in the Ozarks.”
Never Give Up
