It won't stop raining, so we have no choice, do we? On Friday morning I read the report of Greenville outfitter Danny Legere Go to Dan Legere's website in Dick Pinney's column in MaineToday.com MaineToday.com, that fishing was good at the East Outlet of Moosehead. It wasn't raining in Cumberland, so I threw my gear in the truck and headed north. I ran through fog and mist along the way, but no rain -- until five minutes after I pulled into Greenville. Then it began to pour. Undaunted, I headed for the river, pulled on the old waders, covered everything else with a slicker, and was on the water by 2 o'clock. By 3 o'clock I was netting the first of more than a dozen salmon, ranging from 14" to 18" that the river would yield that day and the next.

The angling was notable for a few reasons. The weather was foul, and that kept the crowds away, so I had one of the best stretches of trout and salmon water in the state almost to myself. The water level was great for wading. The fishing was good. Not hot, but good, meaning I caught enough to make the trip exciting but I had to work hard for every fish, which made each one doubly satisfying. And the fish weren't hitting what they were supposed to be hitting.

The conventional wisdom, that streamers were the way to go, seemed to be largely outdated by Friday. The first anglers I encountered, in the parking area on the south bank, had just come out of the river and had been skunked. They'd been fishing streamers. That told me to go the other way: small. I waded out to the little gravel bar above the railroad bridge, positioned myself a respectful distance below the only other angler there and started casting a #18 midge pupa I had tied using monofilament and black thread. In a few casts I hooked up with a 16" salmon. After I released the fish I turned to my neighbor and told him what I'd caught it on. "I've been using a little beadhead nymph," he said. "Caught four fish so far." Small was in. Later I went up to the dam where a young dad and his yellow-slickered son of about 6 were fishing from the bank, casting into the current which took the line towards the whitewater of the flume. The dad said they had just caught a 19" salmon on a little prince nymph. On the other side of the dam I did see an angler catch one fish on a streamer, but that was the only streamer success I saw or heard of.

The highlight of the two days came Saturday afternoon, during a lull in the rain which actually brought a bit of blue sky and sunshine to the river. As I was fishing the run above the railroad bridge I started seeing newly-emerged Hendricksons sailing by on the current, their dark wings sticking straight up. I watched closely to see if fish were feasting on them but couldn't see any takes. I followed the ever-increasing numbers of drifting flies a bit further downstream, watching closely, until finally I began to see what was going on. The salmon were feeding in a slick patch just upstream from a riffle, quietly inhaling the mayflies, sometimes sticking their snouts out of the water an inch or two, but making no splashes and leaving no telltale rings. I tied on a good match, a #14 dark Hendrickson, and let it drift down along with the naturals. Sure enough, a salmon inhaled my imitation and the fun was on. I netted two fish, hooked and lost a few others, missed several strikes, and had one fly and tippet cleaned out by a very large fish. It was all over in 30 minutes, and I packed up and headed for home.