By the seat of my pants....

I didn't have to be at the creek long to see that in the previous weeks floods God had his way with the fishing spots I had finessed and tuned into my play book... a bowling ball sized rock sat cradled in the crook of a tree like a scared cat 6 feet over my head as I stared at what used to be a honey hole, now rearranged into a pocket of strainers and an old road culvert. I stood, realizing the magnitude of the storms and the fact that it was now a new game.. square one. Out of the corner of my eye on the far bank ( 30 feet away ) a log struck straight off the bank into the creek provided the cover of some broken water.. and a fish rose, maybe a big cutt I thought, then again, this time revealing its identity... steel! I turned and ran back to the truck ripping open the back door $5000 worth of gear fell out into the muddy road.. I paid it no mind.. bead box bead box where the hell is my bead outfit!? under the seat revealed the small plano box full of beads, hooks, peg its and... 3 black stimulator's I used for strike indicators. half running I put my rod in my mouth and tied on a foot of fluorocarbon and the stimulator then sliding down the bank crashing hard at the bottom I was already stripping line.. first cast, too short, second cast hung up behind me, I was hemmed in by alders and bank, so I gave her the old single hand snap-t cast and money.. no dice.. again, this time the fly sank in an eddy.. so I started stripping line only to see out of the seam a black phantom chasing my fly! Bam! fish on! It didn't take long to realize I had screwed myself in the set-up of actually being able to land the beast, he shot straight for the strainer down stream of me and I palmed my reel and desperately tried to hold him out of it.. and he turned and ran back to the cut bank side of the creek. That's when I pulled an old king trick on him... I quit pulling and gave him some of his head back, then walked out and around the fallen tree through 4 feet of water got below him and finessed him down, pulled him into the fast water and chased him down to a long slow stretch I could land him in... and the day was mine. He was old and colored up so I revived him and sent him on his way.. he was a fine opponent. ( don't worry folks the blood on my waders is from a fish the night before..but that's another story )