Made the decision about noon today… called a friend and we were off over the hill, bound for warmer climes along the river. His mission was to fill the truck (or expend his back, whichever came first) with landscaping rocks and mine was to stand knee deep in the river trying to find a steelhead. We succeeded on both counts, but the rocks far outweighed and outnumbered the fish to hand (only one). I was daydreaming when a freight train of a steelhead grabbed my fly at the end of the swing, dashed downstream and came unbuttoned all in an instant – a solid fish but never saw more than the initial boil. Ended up with one half pounder landed and a couple of other missed grabs. There were definitely a ‘few’ fish around – a slow evening by catching standards, but once the sun was off the water, the caddis came off thick and the river came alive with bugs and juvenile fish gorging themselves to a backdrop of singing frogs, crickets and miscellaneous birds. Best of all, the wind died down way early – leaving a warm, calm evening – shirtsleeve comfort. I found myself in a great meditative rhythm with snap-T casting, so the fish were an add-on bonus, though I was muttering profanities to myself when I missed that one fish – my once chance – no instant replays allowed. It’s exactly the kind of evening that keeps me coming back.