The process of getting a fish to hand is the culmination of a hundred factors, some resting on you and others out of your control. This is what drives most men mad in life…and fishing.
I lost several brutes this week. Lazy hook-set here, an inexplicable pop there. Hard to say whether it was me or them. What I do know is that they aren’t fighting sluggish and reserved anymore, the way they often do in winter. It’s a full on assault.
I did haul in no less than 50 yards of mono-filament line from someone chucking spoons. Shameful to leave that much synthetic material in the river. Whenever possible, recover your line and dispose of it properly. Please.