A Small Audience…
Fly fishing for some can be a performance art, heck, we’ve all been guilty of smugly false casting one too many times in front of onlookers. One summer day in the Smokies I got hung up in a bush before a puzzled group of hikers. After a few choice swear words and allowing an audience to witness my fall from grace, I realized that the fish didn’t care who was watching. Since then I’ve kept my casting to a minimum. I ventured out Wednesday morning before the rains came and found some bright fish amidst the snow-covered logjams upstream of Masemore. They were taking zonkers …






