As the sun set over the ridge, night’s shadow crept up the river. I was trying to find the point where my lower half was in shadow and upper body in sun – a fish was hooked somewhere in the middle and I never found the sweet spot. From latest afternoon until dark, the evening was a steady stream of jumbo half pounders and one adult with several mystery grabs. Best moment was after switching over to a floating tip. I waded back out and unfurled a cast. Doing so, the strap on my glasses came undone. I propped the rod under my arm to fix my glasses – WRONG. The fish slammed it sending the reel whirring. As I reached down to grab the rod with my now free hand my knuckles played the high RPM rap against the spinning handle. Darkness started to consume the river and the surface came alive with splashing fish. I woulda have stayed for a precious few more minutes had I not been on the other side of the river with a long, deep crossing ahead of me and the sound of bears (or something) rustling in the trees behind me. Except for my leaking waders, a truly sweet evening on the river.