Still reading Edward Abbey, almost finished, and not catching trout. Another man had fished for hours, nothing, and someone walked in to cast a Kastmaster, which he said he's been doing well with, along with a Binsky. I still mean to start casting a spinner. Since late fall, Round Valley restores my senses and mood, which tend to get road-jaded, although not always. A lot of nature writers escape into the mysteries, but consciousness opens up where it can and a wide open setting is different than being boxed in the metal of a car and enduring tire friction, etc., on the ears.