Except for the wind, the weather was nice. The fish, on the other hand, were not very cooperative in spite of ample evidence of insect life associated with the stream. I was able to finally hook and land a small brown on a Hemingway caddis, thus christening the rod/reel/line.
On the way back upstream I was the recipient of Alan's very positive influence. Based on the insects that he had observed, he suggested trying a soft-hackle pheasant tail. I promptly tied on a bead head version and swung the fly under and along the debris at the base of the pool pictured below. On the second attempt, after being more daring with how deep into the mess I was willing to swing it, a beautiful brown emerged from the timber and pounced on the fly. Alan is always telling me that while the fish aren't visible, they are there. I now believe him even more after watching the fish leave my hand and rather than dart away disappear right below me into the rocky substrate of the stream. It found a nook that from above didn't seem possible for a fish this size to disappear in. As they say, you learn something new every day.