With the patience of Job he ties on his favorite fly.
He walks down to the creek through the thick under brush.
His arms both scratched and bleeding now hold the fly rod with precision.
10 to 2 and then swish the sound of the line whipping by ever so softly until
it lands hitting the perfect spot. The spot just beyond the submerged rock where
bass love to hide. Just then the water boils and a tug on the rod produces the big one.