With the memory of the recent fatal shooting during opening weekend of the Utah deer hunt, fresh in my mind, it was with great trepidation that I ventured forth to sally with the trout. Nerves on edge, I decided today would not be a good day to camo my hat with twigs. I listened intently for the distant crack of a rifle, that would bring searing pain to my innards.
Today was trophy Cutthroat day. Well, trophy for this little stream. Seems every fall, when the Browns are up to the devils work, the large Cutts come out in force. I was able to dance with a few that you would be proud to pull out of Big Creek, Id. Nary did catch a browny, and was bothered not a bit by the days tally. Gotta love it.
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