I've had better fishing trips.

Taking a day off from work to escape the rain, I decided to fish Lake Lenice with a buddy of mine. At about 10:30 we got there, and there was only one other car in the parking lot. We quickly set up and headed towards the bank.

While kicking across the lake to the islands on the far side, I noticed that my float tube was slighly under-filled with air. I figured that it was due to the fact that the air in the tube was cooling after making contact with the water Since we had just filled our tubes at Vantage, I figured there would be no problem.

We fished the near side of the islands for a few minutes with no luck and no sign of fish. We headed through a shallow area between some reeds to try the other side. The going was *very* slow, as the underwater weeds were thick and tangling in our fins.

By the time we got through we were hot, tired, and getting grumpier. The fact that neither of us had yet even hooked into a fish didn't help things.

After a few minutes casting a gold-beaded subsurface fly, a hatch began. Nice 20+" fish were rolling over at the surface taking emergers, so of course we all switch to emerger patterns... to no avail.

For nearly an hour we are casting to these fish, using every fly in our boxes, and still they were ignoring our presentations. Yet we could see the fish as they repeatedly surfaced all around us.

By this time, I had begun to notice that my float tube had actually sprung a slow leak, and I was gradually sitting deeper and deeper in the water. To make matters worse, a front was moving in, and there were some ominous black clouds to the east.

Not ready to give up hope that I could lock into one of the nice fish, I keep casting for a bit. But by this time I'm completely soaked, frustrated, and getting cold. When I pick a damsel-fly nymph out of my hair behind my ear, I tell my buddy I'm headed back to get something to eat and that I'd come back to pick him up a couple hours later.

The paddle back to shore was miserable. Not only did I get to re-acquaint myself with the weeds, I was sitting so low in the water that every kick would send a splash of cool water down the back of my waders. This of course, filled my waders full of water, which made me heavier, which made me sit lower in the water, which would splash more water in... You see the vicious cycle I was caught in.

When I finally get back to shore my vest and everything in it is completely wet, my fly boxes are full of water, the cookies I brought along are soaked and my tube can barely keep *itself* afloat.

I quickly strip out of my bloated waders on shore, and just as I'm about to start the trek back to the car, I remember... My sandals are in my friend's float tube. I get to walk back barefoot!

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