The weather wasn't great, but it wasn't horrific, either, so I talked myself into an expedition to the Androscoggin River west of Bethel. I did a bit of research first by calling the Sun Valley sports shop on the Sunday River Road Sun Valley Sports to inquire about the weather, the river level, and the fishing prospects. I was told, "Well, it's not raining right this moment, and the river level is wadeable, and there's a red quill hatch." That was good enough for me.

On the drive up Route 26 the weather was merely poor, a variable mist which required occasional use of the wipers. When I got to within a mile of my destination, it began to pour. How did it know? To wait for the shower to pass I crossed the river at the Gilead bridge and surveyed the water from a bluff on the north bank. The water was higher than I expected, but still offered wading opportunities. Then I saw a silver flash, then another. Feeding trout!

Turtleneck, sweater, windbreaker, vest, hat, rainjacket, waders. Warm enough, except for the hands, which get constantly wet from handling the line. The air was calm enough during the walk through the woods to the river, but as soon as I reached the water a steady, cold, upstream wind greeted me, making my eyes water and making casting difficult. I waded out to where I had seen the feeding fish, and now I could see red quills, wings upright, bobbing on the current. I have a good red quill imitation, and I began casting upstream. A 10" rainbow nailed the fly, then, a few casts later, another. Then nothing. By now my fingers were getting numb. I left and drove, heater on full blast, a few miles east to another spot. There, too, red quills were riding the waves, and I tied into a very strong fish for all of five seconds until the hook popped out and that was that. Flogged the water for another hour, to no effect, until I was again getting numb. Packed up, drove home, watched the Sox beat the Yankees. Worth the effort? You bet.