I drove out to Red's today to attend a meeting with some local irrigators, reps from the Dept of Ecology and the regional conservation district, WDFW, and some concerned anglers, about water quality and agricultural runoff in Wilson Creek. The meeting ended about 3pm. I had to be back in Seattle by 7, but I figured I had an hour or so, so what the hell? I rigged up and threw a few casts around the debris fans at mile 20. After about a half hour I hooked a nice trout on a madam-x that jumped high out of the water several times and otherwise made a fine account of himself. He measured almost 13" (it's 12" from the crook of my elbow to the middle of my palm), was perfectly proportioned and beautifully marked, a perfect little wild Yakima rainbow, the kind of thing that makes me happy my life has worked out how it has. I released the fish and stood up. There at my feet, bobbing around with some sticks and other flotsam, was an unopened beer. A Bush Light, not my favorite, but river cold, and it's not often that God offers me congratulatory beers. You don't look that sort of thing in the mouth. I cracked it, drank it down, watched some of the local talent float by, made a few more cursory casts, and drove home happy. I'll have to chalk it up as one of my better days on the river.