I've fly fished from the Northwoods of Maine to the Florida Everglades, the Canadian border of the northern Rockies south to  Nicaragua, with countless stops in between. Along the way, I've encountered a variety of creatures with strong personalities—grizzly bears, rut-crazed moose, alligators, crocodiles, semi-docile venomous snakes, and highly toxic jungle vipers—sometimes within just an arm's reach. While no sane person would intentionally seek out such encounters, who wouldn't eagerly entice a five-pound smallmouth bass with an erratic streamer retrieve as she lies in wait behind a river boulder? This is purposefully grabbing a mountain line by the tail and I will take you to do it. These fish are instinctively driven to fight from the moment they hatch, and we pursue these gold leafed acrobats on foot in mid-sized streams, from drift boats on larger rivers, and even by winching specialized fly fishing kayaks down cliffs to untouched waters, all for the adrenaline surge of the explosive strike when our fly lands just inches from their ambush —clients often compare the sound "a cement block being dropped from a bridge."