When she comes up she’s lightning fast. One blink and you’ve missed her. If you’re lucky you might glimpse her back, or just the tip of her tail. If you’re lucky.
In an instant she’s down again, diving straight for the bottom and almost always heading away from you. She’s tricky and she’s nimble and she’s fast.
At this point your arms and your brain are playing catch up. They race to get into sync. Your ears join in, listening to the line. Your eyes are worthless, you can’t see her, she’s gone. Instead, you have to rely on everything else to do the work it will take to pull her out of the dive and into the shore. You want to land her and then let her go to fight another day.
Your arms are burning, she’s ripping out line like it’s mere thread. Run, reel. Run, reel. Don’t break her off.
Finally, you gain some ground. You’ve reversed her downward motion, her dive. She’s a little closer when she runs again. But not as far this time. Closer. Her silver side glints in the sunlight. Oh, she’s a beaut.
You lift your rod just a bit and reel her close enough to touch her, grab the hook and pull it from her mouth. Never taking her out of the water, it’s a fluid motion.
That fast she’s gone again, diving back to the depths. Swimming solidly. The fight is over and you’ve both won.
She’s out there somewhere!
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