The next morning brings slightly cloudy skies. There is some wind but not like yesterday when it affected my balance while wading. My anticipation is high; conditions appear to be a good deal better. Instead of dropping the fly in front of the fish, today I may get to make some actual casts to carp; the kind where I shoot line. In short order I see a fish tailing at casting distance and I am fully engaged. This fish looks to be over 15 pounds. Not taking my eye off the fish, moving slowly into position, I drop the coils of line from my left hand. My first cast is a darn good one. The stripped Carrot gets to the carp’s dinner plate; I am fully expecting the fish to make a short move to the side and eat the fly. He sees the fly and does indeed make a move. My shoulders and my arms drop. The carp has turned and is slowly fleeing. He made my fly as a fake on the first look. Even with this refusal I am already enjoying myself more than the day before. I can see the fish. Now I am a hunter; I am a predator. Wading, scanning, peering through the water, I am on the prowl for feeding fish. I get
The Take