What’s the point of even owning a fly rod if no one ever files a missing persons report on you?
Maybe I just love this because I have been that guy. Dry fly season is time for us all to go missing, even if only in our own minds. Who hasn’t pushed the envelope a little? Josh Greenberg, writing for Gates Au Sable Lodge, sums the feeling up perfectly.
Reminds me of a night (circa 1974) when my friend and I had trouble making that last cast to a large pod of rising brook trout on Mooselookmeguntic Lake in Maine. Two teenagers in a rented canoe on a strange lake. By the time we got back to the launch, it was dark and we were lucky enough to run into the search party that was heading out to look for us. I had to remind my father who sent the search team that when the evening hatch is on, it is never as dark as it seems to the worried parent or wife on shore.