The fish had the last laugh on the river this afternoon. The only one I did manage to hook flew off as though he had been fired from a cannon and then buried himself in a pile of weeds. When I finally caught up with him and waded into the river to extract my leader from the weeds he got away. Good luck to him. You can´t beat a bit of initiative.

Every other fish in the Río Grande was spooked by the fly and, despite a couple of changes of nymph, things didn´t get any better. There are days like this on the river and it seems that your fate is sealed.

Never mind. I did manage to come across a turtle and took a little portrait photograph to remember him by. Here he is, looking rather dapper.


I waited a long time to get him to stick out his head but this is about as far as it got!