As my interest in nature photography grew, I spent much more time reading articles about the subject and practicing with my camera. I became much more proficient at determining what factors would allow me to shoot a great photo of scenery or wildlife. My friends and family encouraged me to sell several of my photos. But when I considered doing just that, I would go on the internet and search for similar photos. My enthusiasm would wane when I discovered that there were many other photos of the same subject out there taken by professional and amateur photographers that made my great photos seem ordinary. After all, my main passion was fishing, more specifically fishing for trout on the myriad of lakes and ponds available to me in my backyard, the Adirondack Park in New York State.

I began to add my camera to my checklist of items I would bring on fishing trips to remote ponds. If you spend enough time on these ponds, you get to see some extraordinary scenery and animal behavior. I'll never forget the time my fishing partner, Ray, took me to a pond that was known for having a heavy Hexagenia mayfly hatch in late June or early July depending on the weather conditions. I could tell by the way Ray described this event that it was something special, especially on this pond because these large mayflies fluttering on the surface as their wings expanded and dried for flight was more than the trophy sized rainbow trout that inhabited the pond could ignore. Rainbow trout that had seen every different variation of every type of artificial fly or streamer over the years. They probably had been caught and released unharmed, maybe even more than once, when they were young and undersized. Now these giant "bows" that could discern even the lightest of line or slight incorrect movements of possible prey would act almost retarded for these few magical hours during the hatch. They forsake their usual bland diet of aquatic insects and minnows in the cool deep water and head for the "all you can eat" buffet at the surface. Like deer hunters who often don't see a passing fox or rabbit because they have the image of a deer firmly fixed in their brain, these large trout have only one item on the menu in their search engine, "today's special" is Hexagenia mayflies. Mayflies large, tasty and with enough stored energy to make these seldom seen mammoth rainbow trout rise to the surface and feed recklessly abandoning all their years of experience as they forget the feel of a hook attached to a line, the strange warmth of a fisherman's hands, and the life-draining dryness of the air above.

But as Ray described this event which has drawn him to this pond annually, he also informed me that he had seen just such a prolific hatch only twice in his life. We weren't going to be the only fishermen anticipating this event. There would be others in their waders casting "Hex" fly imitations with fly rods and floating lines at key locations on the pond. My portable fish finder told me that these were areas where the water deepened quickly with steep drop offs and my eyes told me that the bottom was sandy. Others would be casting their dry flies from float tubes, kayaks, or canoes. Ray and I both prefer trolling streamers or nymphs beneath the surface using various weights of sinking lines or sinking tips. We knew we were at the right place, but were we there at the right time? If the hatch happened, we planned to start out trolling Hex nymph and dun imitations, sizes 6 and 8, with the hope of getting the early bite when the hatch just starts and the majority of mayflies have yet to reach the surface. Later, we would switch to either trolling or casting adult fly imitations.

I have to admit that I 've heard a lot of "fish stories" in my day and have been disappointed so many times that I no longer lose sleep over such planned events. We loaded up and launched our Radisson canoe in the early afternoon when few other fishermen had yet to arrive. Apparently, Ray wanted to set up our trolling territory early near the same drop offs where we would later see those fishermen that waded from the shore. I tied on a Hornberg streamer with eyes that I had recently purchased from the Orvis shop in Lake Placid and managed to catch and release a couple of small rainbows in the early afternoon sun. Ray had similar results with a dependable scud pattern tied by a mutual friend. As the sun's angle decreased in the late afternoon, Ray was becoming more and more anxious and his descriptions of what appeared to be another possibly fabled event seemed to become more outrageous. At some point, I caught a glimpse of a large, light yellow object fluttering on the surface. I pointed it out to Ray and he confirmed that it was a Hexagenia adult. I kept my eye on the potential trout food as our canoe glided close to it and well beyond. Eventually, the adult mayfly took to the air without even a sign of a trout. Ray suggested that it was time to change flies. We were using 9 foot tapered 3X leaders with a 3 foot 4X tippet and the spool of my reel was loaded with 250 grain sinking line, which is my favorite to use when fishing the ponds. Using an electric motor on this occasion to keep our hands free, we trolled slowly to let our nymphs get into the deeper regions of the pond. It wasn't long after that I began to see quite a few more Hex adults struggling to break the water's surface tension to become airborne. And then those couple of hours of trout fisherman's bliss began.

The Radisson was going at its slowest speed possible, when my rod suddenly bent. I immediately set the hook out of habit, but my initial thought was that I had snagged my fly on the bottom. Hey, when the action is slow, sometimes even a snag gets the heart pumping faster. But soon my brain realized that line was stripping from my reel faster than the canoe was moving. I had a fish on! I wasn't at all certain how big it was, but I was thankful for my reel's smooth drag and that I had taken the time to set the tension perfectly for my tippet's strength. The fish's first run went well into my backing and I began to wonder if I would have to tighten the drag or palm the reel to stop the fish and chance breaking the tippet. Luckily the fish stopped on its own and I began to gain back line. I was thankful when I got the nail knot from my backing to my fly line back on the reel. My thoughts immediately went to the strength of my double surgeon's knot from leader to tippet. I had faith in my improved clinch knot from tippet to fly, not so much faith that the fish's teeth would not cut the tippet. To make a long story short and avoid exaggeration, the fish made at least 6 heart wrenching runs and I was so thankful for my large arbor reel I purchased from Cabelas. It allowed me to gain line quickly as the trout would turn and suddenly come right back at me. Always on these runs toward the canoe, I would think I lost the fish during those few seconds when the tension on my line and the bend in my pole would become nonexistent. Ray and I had removed the barbs from our hooks to make releasing fish easier without harming them, but on this evening we were more thankful that it would allow us to get our flies back in the water faster. The hook and the knots held and my first glimpse of the rainbow trout in the water took my breath away. I had never in my life seen a rainbow trout with its head there and its tail way over there! Somewhere in the middle there was a huge dorsal fin sticking well out of the water. The crimson stripe down its side was gorgeous in the sunlight and water. I admit it, my body was trembling all over. As the fish eventually tired and came even closer to the canoe, I finally noticed that Ray had reeled in his line and had the net in his hand. I was glad to see that because this was a fish of a lifetime; one that would be well worth the money to have mounted to personally admire and provide proof that I really did catch it. The trout had to be longer than 30 inches with a very wide body. Ray's first shot at netting it resulted in an unexpected and explosive display of energy and fear from the fish. When it had finished, both Ray and I were covered with water from the spray and sadly, my tippet was broken. I will never forgive myself for bringing the fish to the boat too quickly. I know that you have to tire rainbow trout out or you most likely will lose them once they see the boat or net. I thought that I had this fish sufficiently tired with its muscles filled with energy draining lactic acid from the fight. There is a part of me that is glad the fish escaped. Maybe there will be another day that we will do battle again. After briefly crying the blues, jokingly questioning Ray's netting skills, and quickly analyzing what happened, I reached for for my fly box to get another nymph. I finally gazed out at the water. I couldn't believe my eyes. There were rainbow trout smashing mayflies all over the surface of the pond. I wish I had a photo of the expression on my face and I don't think I stopped smiling until after I returned home. The trout were oblivious not only to our lines but even our canoe. They would rise so close to us that you could reach out and touch them. I half expected one to jump into our canoe. We had an unbelievable evening of fishing. An evening that we will never forget and surely talk about every opportunity that comes along. We caught and released many rainbow trout. Several of them were over 20 inches, but none came even close to that first one that broke my line and heart. I have never seen a rainbow trout that size again and probably never will, but you can be sure that Ray and I will be found in that place at that time of the year when the big "bows" become vulnerable until our legs are too weak and our backs are too stiff to make the trip. Did the experience change me? Yes, for one thing I now take Ray's "fishing stories" much more seriously....well, most of them.

It was also that experience which gave me the idea to photograph rainbow trout in their natural habitat. I took several photos of the water surface that evening to remember how thick the mayflies were. In one of those photos a rainbow trout was leaping out of the water. I had seen many paintings similar to what I saw that evening, but very few actual photographs. Since then it has been my mission to capture the essence and beauty of that evening in photographs for all to see. Photographs that make people smile just as much as I did that evening. As I look at the photos I have on this website, it is easy for my mind to remember the sights and sounds of that evening and the many other evenings and early mornings that I have had the pleasure to enjoy being out on the water. The wind is calm, but the water is boiling with today's hatch and rainbow trout. I hope you enjoy these photos as much as I enjoyed taking them for you. By the way, the name of the Adirondack pond is locked in a vault, and Ray and I have never seen another Hex hatch like that one again.