Now before I get into this fish tale I need to explain how I got this moniker of jinxed247. It seems like no matter how much planning and gear and time you spend on a trip Murphy’s law always comes into play. I think that Mr. Murphy has a speacial place in his heart just for me because it seems like even if it is just a short drive to the Salmon River or a three hour trip to the Ausable that if I bring somebody with me everything that can go wrong will go wrong. Well after a few trips with me some of my friends and family have also noticed my special relationship with Murphy and won’t let me go on trips with them because they say that I jinx them. Oh well…Mr. Murphy and I catch a lot of fish. So, back to my fly fishing trip to the Ausable River. The forcast on the weather channel called for a forty percent chance of rain Friday night and only a twenty percent chance on Saturday and the same for Sunday. So when my cousin and I pulled into the Wilmington Notch campground everything was going as planned (I think that Murphy took a nap on the way). Nick and I quickly pitched our tent cots and vamoosed down to Elba just in time for the evening hatch. Brown Trout were rising everywhere as I slowly waded into the river that I had dreamt about for the last two weeks. I tied on an Ausable Wulf and immediatley had a take and a very long release. Twice more this happened before the darkening sky told us it was time to head back to camp. Everything went well that evening until Mr Murphy decided to wake up at around 2 am and opened the floodgates on us, laughing the whole time. The tent cots that I had borrowed from my father (who swore up and down that they were water proof) became little swimming pools; soaking everything that we had brought with us. Well five am rolls around and we decided to try and make the best of things by pulling on our waders and heading out. When we get to the river we noticed that the water has risen considerably and that put a huge damper on everything because my cousin had only brought his hip waders. And, it continued to pour. After a frustrating couple of hours at one site we continued on to many others and about exhausted our supply of flies. As we pulled into another site my cousin said, “I will wait in the truck because I am too cold and wet. If you catch anything I’ll come out.” I could tell by the look in his eyes that there was no way that he was going to do anymore fly fishing that day. As soon as I opened up the truck door it started to rain even harder, if that was at all possible. Looking through my choice of flies that I had left my eyes drifted onto a couple of streamers that I hadn’t used. After tying one on I waded the still rising waters of the Ausable to a likely run along the far side of the river. I attempted to cast my streamer up into the current but the pounding rain and now excited wind decided that they didn’t want me to. I silently swore to my self as I stripped in my half-assed cast across the current. “Fish-on!” I yelled to the empty stream as my 5wt pole doubled over and my reel screamed. The fight was short lived as the fourteen inch Brown Trout tired out and I brought him to bear. My cousin, who said that he would watch from the truck and take pictures when I hooked into one, was sound asleep in the front seat. Not wanting to miss out on an oppurtunity to get a picture of what I thought was going to be a fishless trip, I hurried across the stream and threw rotten pieces of wood at my truck. Finally, he came out and shook his head in surpise at what I had in my hand. And the picture tells the rest. Soaked to the bone, fishless for hours but you still couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. I ended up catching five more Brown Trout all of varying sizes in the pouring rain. We spent the majority of our trip looking for a laundry mat for our clothes and sleeping bags and buying a tarp to use while we dried out our tents. All in all, even though it poured down rain the whole time and my cousin got skunked I still had fun. That is usually a side effect of having Mr. Murphy as a friend. Anybody that fishes with me on a planned trip be prepared to get skunked because for some odd reason decided amongst the heavens, that whoever fishes with me will suffer watching me catch fish while their line remains limp. Sorry, Nick for such a miserable weekend but thanks for waking up long enough to take my picture!!