Like clockwork every evening for the last couple weeks, if you're in the right place at the right time, the fish gods flip the switch. Water that was dead when you got there is suddenly boiling with wakes and dimples. Bass tails gently wag in the air as they cruise for bugs. But try as you might to get one to eat a dry fly on the surface, they just won't. Twice I've had friends out that were left dumbfounded, essentially saying, "They're smallmouths. How picky can they be!" Apparently, they can be as snobby as a wild brown trout in a English chalk stream when they feel like it. The secret, I've learned, is hanging an emerger 6 inches under a big dry. Based on the amount of activity, you think you'd hook up on every cast, but you don't. It has to be the perfect swing in the perfect spot for you to maybe get an eat. If you do, then the real challenge begins.