By Tom Stienstra, San Francisco Chronicle
Memories of losing big fish have a way of eating at your mind.
On my boat last weekend, we worked our way over to an underwater ledge at Stump Point at Lake Siskiyou. This was the spot where I hooked my first big brown trout, about a 15-pounder, on a cold, windy day years ago. The fish marched off 40 yards toward shore, swimming away like it wasn’t even hooked, then wrapped around a stump and was gone. It felt like getting punched in the gut.