Then, it happens. And we're not prepared. We look behind us and can't believe what we see. We've connected with what appears to be the biggest fish we've ever seen. WE execute a perfect pirouette. Or, so we think. We're now face to face with this beautiful monster and somehow the line has become tangled between our legs, has bound our feet, and is choking our neck. As we untangle the mess, we've given the fish enough slack to head for home; undercut banks and a tangle of roots and brush. Some of us are even lucky enough to catch-and-release this hunk of a fish. Most of us learn terms like pre-release and long distance release to describe our encounter with the fish that is now safely home, laughing as us. Well, our fish might not actually be as big as we first imagined. For us, though, he remains the big one that got away. For that, we'll always remember him. And for us, he'll always be bigger and more spectacular than those fish in our photo collection.
We look around. Did anyone see our big scene? We're sure some clown is on the bank with a telescopic lens waiting for this photo opportunity. Next we'll see our dilemma permanently displayed in a leading flyfishing magazine. For most of us, the photographer is only a recurring nightmare. However, it does take us time to admit to ourselves and to others that we need to improve our skills. < previous - next >