We headed off to Slough Creek, it was pretty uneventful. Crowded- everywhere you turned there were already 3 or 4 people fishing. And windy- not as windy as last year, but still tough to fish in. I was skunked, and wound up casting patiently to a nice-sized cutthroat for two hours. He bit, twice, but I never brought him to hand.
Towards evening we headed over to Soda Butte Creek, on our way back to the campground, and stopped and fished. It was nearing dark, and fish seemed to be rising everywhere to small, yellowish-colored mayflies. I tied on a # 20 parachute Adams, and in quick succession caught a half-dozen fish while everyone else hemmed and hawed. I gave Jo a fly, and she got into fish, then Paul, and he caught two or three. We fished until we were in the dark, catching innocent, stupid little cutthroat- all from thirteen to fifteen inches. It was delightful, and I was giddy hauling in fish after fish.
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