As most every fly fisher knows, the Battenkill here in southwestern Vermont has been going through some tough times. Once a famous and popular angling destination, the river has seen its fish population crash. But perhaps the recovery is underway

So far this year, I've been out three times on the water along Route 313 in Arlington. I've caught just two fish, but they were definitely worth the price of admission. The first was a 23-inch brown that ate a conehead streamer fished very deep. Of course, I had forgotten my camera, but my friend Eric dug an old disposable film (remember that?) camera out of his vest and snapped these Loch-Ness-Monster-quality images before the fish squirmed out of my hands and made a getaway.

The next time out, I had just a couple hours in the afternoon, and didn't see a fish.

Then two nights ago, I was all alone when a Hendrickson spinnerfall brought several nice fish to the surface in a part of the river that's undergone a lot of habitat restoration in the past year. The fish rising 25 yards upstream from me was clearly a real pig, but there was also one rising closer. I made about ten drifts over it, with no response. I waded upstream a bit to change the angle (something I learned from Ed Engle's column a couple issues ago), and the fish took on the first pass. It turned out to be a healthy, 21-inch beauty--my biggest ever brown on a dry fly.

By the time I landed it and waded toward the monster upstream, the spinnerfall was over. But I know where that fish lives...

Since I first moved here in 1998, I've tried not to fall in love with the Battenkill, figuring it would only break my heart. But I seem to be thinking about the river more and more lately. The river can be enigmatic and frustrating, but then it produces such gorgeous fish. Maybe we can be just friends...with benefits.