Lindsy Glick

Naked and Afish

Mayflies crawled, tickling, over my arms, legs, and face—something only a fly angler would be excited about. I couldn't get my rod together fast enough. This was my second lake of the day. I’d hiked five miles to the first lake, along a dusty trail, later through a stretch of my beloved ponderosas, and finally up to exposed rocky lookouts. While incredibly scenic, it was dotted with backpackers and way too windy to cast. I usually fish rivers or unnamed alpine lakes, but on this solo trip, I dec