“Pendulum it across.” I told Cameihl. With trees breathing down our necks we found ourself’s flicking, dabbing, roll casting, and occasionally turning our fly into an acrobat in the art of the pendulum swinging. “God DAMNNIT!” we’d shout and the trees laughed at our impatience. As we continued on sweat became more acquainted with our skin. It was 2:00pm and our flies still had not invited a carp to join us. We crossed the river to gain casting space. I started casting from a small rocky inlet to two carp. My cast was nearly presentable, placed in front, and inched slowly, but too far from that cheerio shaped mouth. Cameihl was maybe 20yds up stream. I considered yelling “Carp coming your way!” but I figured she’d see ‘em. And then it happen. “KANDACE, I’m hooked up!” Cameihl shrieked. I yelled back, “I’m coming!”, as my legs hammered through the tall grass. Cameihl’s eyes we’re wide and a greasy grin of excitement vibrated across her face. As I nervously laid my rod down my mind flipped flopped back and fourth between untangling my line from my trembling hands to attending the beating break of the water. We were excited, but scared.