About exhausting that change in tactics

After absorbing the wisdom of his elders, the original dirtbag fly angler, Nate O’Taylor, proves perseverance can pay off on the urban South Platte…


Master Taylor went five for seven. Yours truly? Zero for five (smallies don’t count in this game). Must have been the wine I gifted he and his new bride, or the massive supply of fly-tying materials I handed him when his better half wasn’t looking.

As a side note, the wedding was 100% bona fide off-the-rails. You can’t beat nuptials where the entire guest list lines up at the bar after dinner, grabs their drinks, and then moves directly to the back of the line once again. And again, and again.

We also spotted a hefty whitetail and a gonzo herd of fat turkeys, as well as signs (in the form of dispensed 12-gauge shells) that others know such creatures exist on this very public land. Which kinda sucks considering the original [extremely edible] wildlife discovery.

MG signing off (because sometimes you are on and sometimes you are off, but giving up is for sissies)


Alex says:

+1 for the angling university, I suppose.

The kid had serious game that day. But I made a comeback.

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