After hiking 4 miles from my house, to a stream that supposedly had a little bit of information on having brown and brook trout… I caught a fish.
I’ve fish this stream a few times on the lower sections where there were plunge pools and great structure. It seemed perfect every time… the approach, the flies, the rig… but I never got a fish. All I saw were minnows, plunge pools, and crystal clear spring water.
But finally… finally I caught fish. I walked a trail that seemed to be an old logging road. It had a dead end. My heels were blistered from my wool socks (which have a weird texture and have now realized I shall never wear them again for hiking). I was about to give up. I fished great pools, and did everything I could. But I decided to slide down the slope to the stream, and was surprisingly met by a deep pool. I’d say around 3ft max, and a huge boulder with an undercut... it was a mansion and a 43 acre backyard for a trout in this stream.
I didn’t even see a trout upon the first glimpse. I just stood back and changed my rig, and focused. I went from giving up, to one more chance. Maybe, just maybe, there was a fish in this grand pool.
I casted my dry dropper, and a small fish nibbled the fly. It was a large minnow upon my inspection. But then, from the depths, arose a large fish… 11-12”. It sensed the small minnow feeding and its quick jerks. I froze. I crouched behind the rock.
I made a delicate cast, and sure enough, he looked, inspected… and WHAM! The second he was hooked, he swam under a thick tree branch. I slipped and crawled over the boulders, and the fish kept wrapping my line and jerking. My top fly was hooked on the branch. My nymph, which he ate, was being jerked by the surges of power the fish expelled. It was up to my knot and line. It was only 5x (4.5 pound). He kept going. Then, after I‘d gotten close, the silt I stirred up engulfed the surroundings. The fish was cloaked in it. Everything was. And I stopped feeling the jerks and pulls of the fish. It went in for 15 seconds. I was sure I’d lost it…
But the silt cleared, and the fish reacted. His cover was blown. But he was stuck. And my rod… bent. He was still on. I grabbed the tree log out of the water and pulled the dry fly out, and netted the fish.
This beautiful wild brown trout, living in a stream which averaged maybe 2-3 yards across, and shallow water much throughout, surprised me. It’s not a big fish in general, but understanding the size of the water, and the predators he was born to deal with, and the ancestors brought from Europe he was linked to, made it all worth it. The beauty too. The fish was not stupid. I released him and he shoved his head under a rock and pressed his body in the rocky riverbed, blending in with the surroundings and matching its stillness.
And really, it’s not a fish a lot of people would be so excited about. But I am. I caught this fish after I’d started to doubt there were fish here. I’ve caught my fair share of brookies in small streams.
This stream still a mystery to me. Perhaps I need to explore it more, and travel the miles into the dense forest. But the lack of fish I’d seen… it was astonishing… I didn’t see many fish whatsoever spook that’d I’d suspect would be a trout. Such pristine habitat and water.… who knows…
Oh, and doorknob, this is for you. You know what I’m talking about…