The trip begins with a pristine March Brown mayfly and ends with clouds of plump midges descending on me and the tube. I wish there were trout to tempt with a high floating MB imitation. I throw streamers instead and find the usual suspects. Meanwhile, another day unwinds until nightfall, and Spring displays one by one more of its marvels. At dark while I'm loading the pickup, another pickup pulls up. It's a young couple. They want to know how I did. They think the lake is overpopulated, say the bass run small. But they agree there just might be some big'uns in there. And when they say "bass" what they actually say is "largemouths and smallies." Smallies? Really? Where have they been keeping themselves? He looks at me and says, "Early morning. Get out here early morning. That's the best time..." Then nods--did he wink, too?--and drives off.
