I had a nemesis for the past three years. A "big" wild brown trout from a trickle of a stream. By a large fish, I am referring to the fact that this is the hog johnson of the stream and his size is relevant to the body of water. By nemesis, I have hooked him several times and lost him twice at my feet. He has a habit of throwing barbless hooks and reminding me of the usefulness of a net. Each time I succeeded in getting him to eat a fly, it came during high water events, when I could sneak up onto his lair without spooking him in the gin clear pool. If there wasn't high water, I simply knew I didn't stand a chance. He was always too smart and super skittish spooking at the slightest disturbance or false cast.
So it was, that my father had the morning off. We headed out to a predetermined destination that simply hadn't produced after last spring. It didn't produce again. Left with an hour of time, I took my father to my little haunt anticipating high flows but receiving only a trickle. With the two of us stumbling upstream, many a trout spooked. I skipped over almost all of the water, fishing only the larger holes. Upstream, in the glory hole I spotted a small brown on the bottom of a bed of slate. He moved over four feet to eat a stonefly imitation.
Having already caught a fish out of the hole, I had no hope or thought of catching my nemesis. Unbeknownst to me, he was hanging out at the head of the pool in a small pocket of fast water that you can jump across. I was shocked with the difference in weight at the end of my line when I set the hook. I instantaneously knew who it was and was ecstatic. It was another great moment on the water with my father that I am sure we'll always remember.