In that instant I saw a dark shape and a flash of silver. It hit the fly and ran deep. For 15 minutes I battled a fish I could not see. I paddled with one hand and held the rod with the other until I was able to land on a patch of gravel among the cliffs. In another 10 minutes I was able to bring the fish close and scoop it onto the gravel.
Anadromous trout are hard to distinguish.
I finally settled on brown trout. I had no way to eat the fish or to keep it, so I unhooked it and cradled it in the water at my feet until it swam into the deep shadows. I wish I could say I packed up my rod and paddled back to the car in a state of complete contentment. But I didn't. I beat the water for another half-hour until I paddled up the last few feet of river, then spun and paddled through the arch on my way back to the Baptism.