God willing and the creek don't rise

Sometimes ya just gotta go get lost. A buddy and I went to see about corroborating a local fable that speaks of big cutthroat trout in a certain small, remote water.
"They're in there" was the mantra.

The tale says getting there early is key, so we went on the general season opener. With size-2 rabbit-strip cone-head sculpin fakes, we marched in and through the turbid but fishable water. After all, they're in there right?
Within a couple hours, I happened into a slow, deliberate chase and eat of a big cutt; it was quickly thrashing the end of my line. But my dog's zeal sent him splashing off the cutoff bank into the creek - sure enough, this caused a furious reaction and the fish popped off.
For Boges' sake, redemption came my (his) way. I later hooked and landed two that each went about 20 inches from the same little pocket upstream of the first hookup. The dog was in the clear, but the myth of big cutts was obliterated. We had confirmation.

This morning, the creek had gained 50 percent in flow and the radar showed rain. Seems we'd somehow pleased the fishing gods, and they rained cutthroat upon us.