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The wild Rainbow Trout of Maine will tempt and test even the most seasoned fly fisherman. Oh, how I love these fish. I have dreamt of them all winter long. They drive me nuts and they are very difficult to trick. They have no steady patterns and they always leave me guessing. Early morning can be good one day and horrible the next. A small hatch can trigger rising fish and a big hatch triggers nothing. Rising fish were speckled throughout the run yesterday and today there is nothing. Or, so it seems? I find a fish feeding. The bigger fish don't make a splash. They are subtle and efficient. The careless eye will miss the almost invisible rise. What did he feed on? Maybe it was a caddis size 18? Nope. 16, nope. 14, nope. Ok, emerger...20,18,16...nope. Stone fly? Nope? Lift up the rocks analyze the bugs. Look for the typical Light Cahills, Black Caddis, Sulphurs. Shake the trees. Alder Flies drop into the water. Big too! I watch as they drift helplessly down river. Then, way down river, I see one of the flies get sucked beneath the surface. All that remains is the little eddie created by the wily fish. I get out of the water. I add another 3 feet of tippet to my leader. Check my

knots and wait. I know where he is and I wait. Finally, I can't wait any longer. I know I should, but I can't. I know he is there and I know I can tease him up. I stand on the gravel. Entering the water is something I try not to do unless absolutely necessary. I strip line from my reel and look behind me, making sure I know where potential back cast snags might be. There is no room for error and too much foolish false casting will surely spook the fish. So, one false cast a double haul and my line hits the water. I immediately put a huge mend in the line and the fly is off to a good drift. It floats perfectly through the bubbles. I lose sight of it for a moment and then find it again. I extend my arm to get just a few more feet. Extend a little more to get just a couple more inches and SLURP! I know it is a good fish because my rod makes 2 or 3 violent downward pulls. I give all my slack line to the fish and he is on the reel in seconds. He is not happy and makes a long run out. Then a long run over and another run at me. He sees me and makes another run out. This is a huge fish and I can not believe it. This trout is invoking visions of steelhead and I can not believe he is on my hook. He is way into the backing and I start to bring him closer. I can see my fly line now and he is holding his ground downstream in a deep hole. Ok, I will just think this through. I will take my time and...POP! Slack line. Oh man! He shook the hook. I stand there. Amidst the huge water. Nothing rising. So much space and just me and my little fly. Those few moments of sheer excitement are sure to be replaced by another long stretch of boredom. Hours of staring at the water looking for that subtle take. Hours of waiting for something. Anything. Hours of thinking about how great it will be if I hook another wild rainbow on the fly.