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3. A Brief Fling with Madam X

The “Dog Days” of August had the Ephemeroptera lacking in their evening nuptials and as a consequence my trout teasing was leaving me frustrated, I couldn’t even get a rise. My thoughts drifted as I panned the plethora of possible enticement contained in a myriad of boxes, exceeded only by the number of pockets in my vest……. (I fell for the Orvis advertising gimmick of pockets stacked like Russian dolls. Initially I had a deep desire to never feel wanting for paraphernalia while on the water, but I have since relieved my back of useless crap.)…….when my eyes fell upon three number 14 Madam X’s which I tied years ago. I think it was back in my early tying days when I first started playing with “deer hair” or was it “elk hair”? I can’t remember. Anyway I thought maybe a little stimulation with those long straight legs might just prove enticing enough for something, hell for anything, to at least come up and take a peek.

I was standing mid-shin deep in firm sand facing upstream. Before me off my right shoulder was a narrow fast current tongue ripping over bowling ball size rocks at about knee depth. I might add that this is an upper WI. freestone of the more round and polished rock type. The water surface in the tongue was such that I figured that Madam X would instantly be drowned and rendered useless as a dry. Off my left shoulder was the bank and quiet water. Between I had about ten feet of what I considered fish holding opportunity and that was my focus. My plan was to drift the Lady from directly above just on the edge of the torrent.

My first cast placed Madam on the water surface in an area which quite frankly resembled the suppleness of fine satin sheets. She twisted and turned gently undulating with the soft current’s hold, as I manipulated her with a deft hand at mending, revealing to the underworld her bottom side from every angle. Even I was being taken in. Watching every enticing move she made as she danced her way toward me the expectation of a climactic explosion became palpable. But suddenly my expectation was dashed as the Lady switched her tactics. My deft hand at mending was somehow lost in the foreplay. She lost her soft and gentle side and was quickly dragged into the rough and tumble side better described as risqué. She entered the frenzy and I had lost all hope that she could remain enticing with the maniacal dance now being performed as the satin sheets were being shed at a feverous rate. I couldn’t determine if she was trying to strip off her clothing or if it was being ripped from her as she descended the torrent at an ever increasing frenzied pitch. I watched in complete awe as she stayed on top not once faltering in the heat of the moment. And then, at the peak of one of the wildest rides the Madam and I had shared that day, she left me euphoric. She pulled one out of a spot for me that I would have bet my last dollar held nothing. That was the first of three times in two hours on a hot August afternoon. Madam X and I haven’t been together since, but I often think of her and wonder if the magic is still there.