TEXAS FLY FISHERMAN

It is born on the Lake Fork of the Gunnison River, in the shadow of the Black Canyon, with a tan elk hair caddis.  With a $40 dollar 5 weight and a fistful of rabbit pellets I approach the rivers edge.  On the inside of a ninety degree bend in the river on a shallow gravel bar opposite the overhanging canyon wall I toss the pellets into the stagnant chasm air and they descend on the water like a micro burst of heavy rain.  The surface erupts.  What had been a slow pocket is now boiling and furious.  Like ghosts disturbed from slumber giant trout burst from the depths of the far bank into the shallow water at my feet and disappear with a swirl and a splash.  I slam a tan caddis down in the center of the chaos.  My rod bends double and the fish hits the current and the tippet breaks.