Once again it is over. The banter through the shop was varried in regards to the last week of fishing. One thing I will tell you is that if your looking for solitude during that last week you won’t find it. The whole month of September the streams were like a vacant parking lot until the last ten days. Remember this for next year. I call it the last hurrah syndrom, and it has been that way as long as I can remember. The fishing was Good, Bad, and Ugly in the lasty ten days of the season with alot of “why” questions asked as usual. I can’t tell you why, but it happens every year. Every year as the stream trout season closes in this neck of the woods I feel that I may have come a step closer to unraveling the great mystery of fly fishing. I review my logs and hope that other secrets are hidden among the data. In reality the secrets will be revealed to those who fish. Some will learn faster than others, for they are there to learn. The art of flyfishing is that of an unending learning curve. It is filled with the teachings of ethics, honor, frustration, humor, loyalty, and elation and the list goes on. Fly fishing, for many begins as a sport, it becomes a life-style. Thanks for reading, Andy