BWO- Where, When, What, Why, How?

To some people I am considered a pretty good fly fisherman and to others I am just a crazy SOB who is obsessed with the idea of bugs, fish, poles, strings, and water. I don't know who I find myself drawn to more, as the expert I am constantly teaching and helping others learn and catch fish. Its almost like babysitting in a way. But as the fanatic I am left free and unbugged to fulfill my desire of whatever it is on that particular day. Today, I assumed the role of the expert. I was taking out two of my favorite co-workers(Dane, Chris) that I introduced to the sport last fall on the Price River. On the Price last November we had what is considered in my book an excellent day. For first time fly fishers they both landed over twenty fish each with one pushing the 18-20 inch class. (Beautiful male Brown) Since then they hadn't even touched their poles. But since I had been talking up the famous BWO Hatch on the Provo all winter. We all had had enough and decided that a trip had to be taken. We finally settled on Thursday, April 3rd. It was going to be perfect. The weather was projected as cloudy and a little rain or snow. We had made up excuses to tell our boss. (I wish I could just say fishing fever, it would feel better than my wife got sick) So I picked up Chris and Dane and we on the road by 8:30am on our way to the Middle Provo in search of Dry Flies. (Especially BWO) When we got to the river it was a ugly sunny day with a brisk north wind. I swear the weather forecast is never right when you want it to be. We finally got to the cliff area river bank where I had a killer day the last time I was on the river for the fall BWO hatch in Oct. As I glassed over the hole nothing was happening. So we went straight to the Nymphs. I just want to get this off my chest I HATE fly fishermen that don't understand the concept of "polly casting" When someone is in position to fish a hole it is their hole move on #!#!%...Today we had some old fart move right on top of our hole scaring all the fish away. I couldn't believe he could think he wasn't intruding. I came to the conclusion he must be a retard. So after getting feed up with the unwanted company I decided to find more friendly waters. We moved north to an ok spot cause all the others were taken. I will write about the over fishing of the Provo, but for now I will try and stay on the day. So as the expert I was starting to feel a little pressure to get these guys on some fish. I put them at an ok spot while I went up stream to explore other potential holes. My mind was racing to what I should do next. I was lost, the best holes were taken and it was dang windy, cold, blue sky and a hatch of midges or early BWO should have been coming off by now. But as I approached the boys. Dane set the hook. Fish On! It was a 14inch brown that Dane excitedly brought to the next. It was a huge relief. We moved locations to the train tracks which was the smartest decision I had made all day. The wind was calmer and right off the bat we were seeing signs of insect life. Then it happened as we sat along the river bank. I caught a glimpse of my first BWO of the year. I can't explain the joy it brought me. But all fly fishermen who have experienced this will know exactly what I'm talking about. We finally got into some fish as we moved into a big deep run just south of the tracks. Dane hooked up first with a nice brown and I followed shortly after with a little whittie and rainbow. This run produced the best action for us. We had other hook ups but couldn't bring them to the net. As the fishing started to tapper off we moved down stream to a well know hole where I had landed some nice rainbows in the past. To my surprise the hole had been completely reshaped due to a huge tree that had fallen right in the middle of the river. To my surprise I saw the perfect dry fly location right behind the tree roots. I stopped and watched impatiently for any sign of a rise, just as I was about the leave there it was a nice mouth broke the water and slurped up the limited BWO's on the surface. I tied on my go to outfit and went to work. My first 10 casts were frustrated due to the dang northern wind. Finally when I timed it just right I was able to make a cast that might get a rise. Just like a perfect mathematical solution the big fish came up slurped my fly in. Hooked up! It all happen so slowly I wasn't ready for the battle. The fish came right at me like a rocket. I tried to move out of the way but it was no use. He ran and never looked back. My 6X tippit was no match to the fish and the situation at hand. But I didn't care I had done it. I saw a rising trout and presented the right fly and got a hook up. That's what drives me now more that just catching a fish. I am driven by the challenge at hand. So as the day came to a close I hooked up one last time with a very nice brown right underneath the bridge. I don't no what happened exactly, but the event was just short of a miracle. I casted my Copper John Nymph and right when it hit the water I saw a fish jump and I was hooked up. The fight was great and ended with Dane blindly scooping my fish in the middle of the current. Remember Dane "Don't ever touch the line". So to end where I started today I was the expert in the eyes of my fishing partners but in all reality was far form that on this day. I guess its more than just catching fish that makes on an expert.