After recieving Roger Lowe's book Fly Patterns of the Smoky Mountains I tied up a few Yellow Palmers. Armed with these little dry flies I headed to a little piece of water I love. The air temps were in the forties with a stream temp of 42. I tied on the fly and sent it off to drift through a slow moving pool. The fly hung up on a small twig at the surface, part of a larger submerged branch. The fly sat there motionless for a second or two, then the pool exploded and a beautiful wild brookie came to hand.

The Yellow Palmer worked well that cold day. I can't wait til spring.











After a cold few hours, Hot Coffee and Pepper Biscuits








Brk Trt