Drifting and rowing around with my Dad, we hit on an interesting phenomenon. Gusts plus passing clouds equals fish chomping stonefly nymphs. Literally waiting for a healthy gust to bother casting…by the way- If you see my Dad, don’t mention it. He hooked and lost a really large fish (which we saw as it jumped and snapped his leader) This the kind of hell that drives some fisherman to the bottle. Not my Dad, but he will be pushing down Snickers and Blue Bell ice cream this evening in an effort to conceal the memory with a diabetic flush of amnesia.