On the third cast I had a strike and a brookie came to hand.
I fished the stream to the old washed out dam, which is quite a walk. All along I continued to take hits, and a few more to hand. A light rain started to fall, and a chill was felt.In this area where the large clump of instream wood had collected creating a bend in the streams flow and a perfect ambush point for a trout. The little yellow fly drifted just about to the end and a sudden swift strike took place...no hookup. I fished that fly several more times running it through everywhere I thought that fish was. I changed flies twice but the trout was put down. The rain continued lightly as I moved upstream. I knew my time was limited but until I felt the rain working through my jacket I was going to fish. Upstream proved to be slow and I said to myself it's time to head back. Before leaving I gave that wood clog another shot. I tied on a Royal Coachman streamer. Into the water it went, and the strike was fast and effective. A brook trout was on. Soon the fish was at hand. I don't know if it was the fish I had missed earlier, but it was indeed a fine wild trout.