A few just like him entertained me on the lower Poudre yesterday. Great fun.
The bad news? Remember when I previously uttered this idiotic statement in Monday's post?
After calming myself following a brief period of hyperventilating, I reached for my other fly rod. You all know the one. I wrote about it previously, I think. It used to be nine feet, but it's now only about eight and a half, thanks to a broken rod tip. How big a difference could a tip make, right?As it turns out, quite a difference!
I knew it was coming. A day after discovering that the top half of my one fly rod is MIA, the top half of my second rod...already tipless...suddenly got a lot shorter. I hooked into a fish that put quite a bend in the rod, and sure enough, without the flexibility of the tip, the remainder snapped in two, like a brittle old bone.
I'm officially flyrodless, and in my life, that is quite a catastrophe.
The hits just keep on coming.