Every fisherman has a fish that haunts them. For these guys it was Pascal le bouef, and for these other guys it was Frank. In the summer of 2014 I had a similar fish named Leroy. The first time I saw Leroy roll on my fly I almost shat myself. He would only show up at first light, so I would have to make the drive to the river in the dark just to get a shot at him. All told, we had four encounters that summer out of probably a couple dozen attempts. Three of those times I actually hooked him but Leroy won every time. The last time I stuck him I at least got him to my feet and got a good look at him before he jumped out of the water and shot the fly back at my face. When I went back the next summer to redeem myself Leroy was gone. I’m Not sure if he died, found a new hole somewhere else or just got smarter than me, but I’ll never forget that fish. If he is still out there he’s probably at least forty inches by now. Godspeed Leroy.