The fish hadn't moved, and neither had you. Three hours of casts and refusals: the fish was still feeding strong, and you were at the end of your rope. Every fly in your box had been tried and retried, resulting in a weary arm and the wish for the reserve boxes over the hill in the back of your truck. Yet the fish remained. If only you had the right stuff, that fish would have been safely stored away in the film on your camera! Except that your camera was back in the truck as well. Today was just not your day.