Last year for my birthday, I gave myself a day off of work to fish my favorite Maine river. It was May 21, and nymphing can be a productive, but tricky method of fly fishing for Maine Brook Trout at that time of year. I started nymphing the season before with minimal success, but had read a few books during the long winter. My friends had gone downstream while I fished a popular run to start the day. Alone and fishless so far, I decided to join them, but scouted the river along the way, looking for promising lies (this story is not one of them!) I spotted a narrow run that slowed past a large boulder and had fairly deep water ? a Prime Lie. Stealthily, I forded the shallow riffles well above my run and instantly spooked a pod of suckers. A good sign. I scoped my target run through the fleeting lenses of eddies and saw the silhouette of fish, but they too appeared to be suckers. Then I glimpsed the telltale signs, red with white-tipped fins. There were Brook Trout in this run, and I sensed that there was at least one monster. I was eager to practice my nymphing skills. Using no indicator, I rigged and tried one fly after another on 5x tippet, but got no takes. A friend had recently fished the river and said that the fish were so leader shy, he only got takes on 6x, otherwise you might as well use rope. Ok, 6x it is, and I decided to use a size 20 midge nymph. My concentration was intense, trying to detect the slightest twitch of the leader as it entered the water. A few false sets on the bottom and I started to get discouraged. I had heard that ultimately, the best nymphing skill is a Zen-like intuition where you just set the hook. I was probably 5 casts into this rig, almost ready to change flies, when I just set the hook. I had no time to think about why I did it either, because I had a fish on! This was a large fish, and he took my line and shot up into the shallow water where I could see the crisp white fins of a large brook trout. Now, having 6x tippet, I played him very cautiously, yet desperately tried to get him to net quickly before he had a chance to break off or run to the fast water below. It was a true balancing act. When I brought him in, I knew landing him was going to be hard. He still had a lot of fight, and was too big for my small catch and release net. Despite this, I managed to get his head in the net, but sure enough, he flopped right out and into the shallow pool I had led him to. Again scooping his head in the net, I cradled the body with my forearm. I struggled to get my tape measure out, knowing that choosing to measure him meant not having time to take a picture. My biggest brook trout so far was from the season before and measured 19 inches. This guy beat it by one inch and was so fat, I could barely fit my hands around him. I gently let him go in the shallow, but flowing water, and he sat for just long enough for me to take a short movie clip as he swam away. When I showed the movie to my friends, one said “Man, that’s the fish of a lifetime!” “Not yet”, I replied.