There are only a few hours until dark and there’s hardly any water clarity. Shit. Let’s optimistically call it a two on a scale of 10, or a bust if you want to just lay the cards on the table. Reds won’t tail tonight unless the winds have blown them airborne. I could care less. It’s time to fish. THE FLYFISH JOURNAL 077
The Flyfish Journal Volume Eight, Issue Two: Page 77
