We advanced beyond the bridge to where the river forked in two. Nat made his way up the left fork and I prospected the right side. As I cast my way upstream, I saw a boulder that was half submerged and would have provided slack water for a big lazy trout, looking for an easy meal.
Being beckoned only by what we saw, read, and watched about New Zealand fly fishing – we began to construct an idealist picture of what our trip would pan out like. Blue bird skies, a puff of wind at our backs allowing some extra casting distance, and maybe… just maybe, a spotted, glistening double figure brown each – amongst many other fish landed of course.