Mingo
Life of the Party
I landed this buttery golden specimen yesterday to cap off an absolutely perfect fishing day with a good buddy. We landed fish, lost fish and laughed our asses off. And then, just as we were about to leave, this brown hit my size 14 nymph as it explored the dark confines of an alluringly deep slot. I felt that unmistakable "thunk" when he smacked the fly through my straight-line euro rig. He jumped right in front of me and my eyes bulged when I saw him. Fifteen nerve-wracking minutes of close tug-of-war on my 5 wt, then he blasted downstream like a bat out of hell. We chased him as fast as we could, stumbling and tripping over river rocks like two escaped convicts running from a pack of bloodhounds hot on the trail. This kype-jawed wild man ripped 100 yards of backing off my reel at hyper speed before he finally slowed and then stopped in front of several other fly fishermen. When my buddy Mike finally got the net under him and hoisted him aloft, I felt my bloodstream flooding with that rare fly fisherman's elation we all know and love. That elusive combination of euphoria, relief and joy drenched in a pint of adrenaline with a shot of dopamine. It was a truly glorious day on a small Oregon stream. 
