I'm tempted to stand on a large rock, hold my arms out to the sides and pronounce myself the King Of The Fly Fishing World
(hey, it worked out great for that Titanic guy).

Stunning, and bigger to boot. 

I took a 90 minute tour of a local small stream (in the world of the self-employed fly fisherman, that qualifies as a slightly long lunch), and once again, I'm the beneficiary of a pair of excellent water years.

This stream is small and is typically home to a lot of 6"-7" trout. Today I caught one that went 10" (the largest I've hooked in that water), and the average was in the 7"-8" neighborhood.

And I caught many trout.

In other words, I mirrored my experience at last week's expedition; after two good water years, the trout were 8%-10% bigger than normal (and hungry).

A smarter fly fisherman (and a better outdoor writer) would pocket the difference and chalk up the extra size to skill and cunning, but I'm told that -- as a daddy -- I need to exercise restraint.

Something about being a role model.

Damn.

Sunday I flog the Subaru towards Lassen for a rendezvous with Older Bro, where I hope to catch the season's first Brook Trout (still The Official Char of the Trout Underground).

Expect another self-congratulatory post soon.

See you on the Brookie Highway, Tom Chandler.