These past few days haven't boded too well for the never approaching ski season, but they have definitely improved the fishing.  Lows here in Reno have been in the upper 20's to lower 30's, and highs have been as high as the mid sixties.  This has made the fish a little more active and much less lethargic when you get one on.  Today I started mid day in town and drove my way up river from deep run to deep run.  This time of year I have a favorite style of fishing, I use a sink tip and a 9ft leader connected to a smaller streamer like a size 4 wiggle tail.  Off that streamer I use lighter line and tie on a stone or a midge.  I stick with two flies because three can get a little tricky when trying to reach out with long casts.  I look for deeper runs with a steady current where I can drift the whole rig.  I drift the rig for as long as possible then end the drift with some random retrieve.  I hook most the big fish on the drift and get a lot of smaller fish during the retrieve.  Today I found an awesome spot for fishing this style and posted up on a rock to get to work.  After a few casts I had a bump; a few casts later I had a fish on.  My line had the smallest bit of slack in it and when I saw that slack get yanked tight I got excited.  I got more excited when I set the hook and felt deep, powerful throbs coming from the business end of my line.  I had about ten feet of line before I was on the reel and I knew this was the kind of fish that I couldn't fight by hand.  The fish ran down river for about 10 feet, then trashed around a little more, then turned and went back up river.  I was putting a lot of pressure on this fish and could not move it from its beeline, heading strait up river.  This fish was heavy and strong, and when I saw my line moving upriver and felt the grinding drag of the water, I knew he meant business.  This hog started to pull line and I knew in a matter of seconds he would be on the reel, I though it was game over for that fish.  As my extra line ran through my fingertips, I felt the line tighten even more and heard the reel start to click.... but it was clicking too slow, the drag was too high and the tension was too much.  After a few seconds of the reel ticking away like a watch, the fish countered with a burst of speed and a tail thrash.  My rod tip bent further and further down towards the water and then, as luck would have it, snap!  Just like that the fish was gone. I threw my rod out of disgust and sat on the rock splashing the water with my feet, trying to pretend like that didn't just happen and there was nothing I could do.  I tried to shake the disappointment like that fish had shaken me but I couldnt.  I reeled in my extra line and began the walk of shame back to my car.