Arriving at Uncle Dave's house, we were overwhelmed by the excitement he had to offer. Waiting patiently in the window, he leaped from his chair and flew out the door on his bum knee (well supposed to be bum coming fresh off a replacement). His enthusiasm and fish stories made it seem like even the most amateur fisherman had a shot to slay the weary trout.
Uncle Dave warned, that the trout would be weary and patiently work every hole up and down before moving on...his advice seemed to be quite accurate. The first hole was a gem, but guarded by overhanging branches. Casting proved to be difficult, but after a few nice false casts, I found a way in. It took about 40 casts to the same spot before I could entice a bite!
Small brown trout are exemplary of what you'll find in one of Indiana's only cold water spring fed creeks. Uncle Dave says that in a particular deep hole, a 29" humdinger awaits the fisherman with enough patience to fool the wise trout into attacking your fly.
The day ended with 2 browns in about an hour and a half. The fish were nice, but not really what we were after. Fishing this Saturday proved to be a peaceful and symbolic end to a sorrowful weekend--just the therapy an troubled heart calls for.