Originally Published April 13, 2017

I was starting to grow frustrated. I wanted to move on, hurry up, stop wasting time in holes where the fish weren't biting. You're not going to coax them into eating, we've been in this one hole for an hour. You caught the blind squirrel, now let's move on. 
I knew that I needed content, photos, something, anything. And so far, I wasn't getting it. All I was doing was sitting around waiting. 
Eventually, we started moving upstream, but nothing was going on up there either. 
Another hour passed. 
I was in desperate need of something to peak my imagination, some beautiful trout to get the creative juices flowing. 
The day became all about catching something. Kind of like novice anglers are, the catch being more important than the experience. 

With time spent on the water, you begin to figure out that it isn't all about catching that trophy trout or crazy amounts of fish that made it to the net. 
You calm down, attain confidence and acceptance. 
You learn that all days spent on the water are good days, 3o inch brown or not. 

We moved up into a section of small wild water. I was sure that this was going to make the creative genius poor out of me, but as always, mother nature had other plans. 
I saw so many feisty, wild rainbows jumping and splashing around I couldn't believe it. Spring had found them and they were enjoying every second of it. 
A soon as your fly hit the water up popped a little trout just to roll all over it, jump right behind it or delicately execute any number of acrobatic tricks. And it wasn't just with our humble creations, but with the actual mayfly's that were swarming about everywhere. 
It's as if they had filled themselves as much as they could stand and now it was time to play. They were truly enjoying every minute of the day. 
So, why wasn't I? 

At the end of this particular stretch, you reach a large waterfall, one that even I wouldn't want to venture to try to climb over. 
The pool below is large and full of happy trout. 
When we arrived it all finally hit me. My frustrations over not landing "enough" trout started to fade and I took in the comedy of these jumping four to eight-inch trout. Every cast, up popped a fish and out flew a fly, one that either ended up tangled around 6x fluoro (spider webbing) or one that you had to dodge out of the way to miss. 
Comical is truly an understatement. 
So there we stood, only a few trout under our belts for the day, but watching all these tiny trout literally play with their food. 
I can't think of a more perfect day; thank god it finally hit me.