Nathan and I decided to go chase some trout today. After he bought us a nice breakfast we headed for the park. We checked the gauge at the entrance, which read 1.2, then headed for the trailhead.

I wasn't sure if we were going on a camera retrieval mission, and Nathan said he was up for whatever and had me make the call. The water was low enough to where it would be safe, but with thunderstorms called for the afternoon, I decided to leave that for another day.

We hiked in, then did the rhodo walk down to the creek.

A cool fungus on the hike in.

We hit the water, and I knew it would be a good day when my first 8 casts resulted in 8 bumps. The trout kept hitting my fly, but I couldn't get a hook set. I'm used to missing 3 out of 4, but when you miss 19 out of 20, I was starting to get a little frustrated.

I landed my first fish soon after. You know some days your just not sure whether you should tie on a green or a pink weenie. I was having that kind of day.

Then on closer inspection of my dry fly, I figured out my problem. I had snagged fly on my shirt previous trip, which bent the hook open. After bending it back I soon had this guy.

I then pulled a Jim Casada climbing up a huge midstream boulder. Sometimes you can't really see where you are reaching, and when you grab what you thought was debris on top of the boulder it wiggles away

Glad he was a small fellow

After a minute of being on the rock with me he started getting upset and rose up

It was about that time my rod "slipped" knocking him into the stream

I took a minute to take in the scenery

Fishing was really good, and for the first time this year I lost count.

Nathan was tearing them up as well