We all know the scientific certainty that all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. But add a bout with Covid, a never-ending string of home improvement projects, change Jack’s name to Steve, and holy cow, the dullness is magnified when there’s no fishing in January.

So, I snuck out during the last few hours of the month to visit a small stream. It was chilly and overcast, but the water was a good medium height, running clear with an occasional bit of decaying vegetation detritus tumbling by, and a surprisingly warm 42 degrees. Here are some details.

I pricked four and landed three, all on a swung/dangled/stripped Squirmy Worm jig. They had no interest in the dry nor tiny nymph dropper.

I interested, but did not hook, two behemoths (for this size stream) in separate locations. Both fish came out from their holes to inspect the fly, follow it, and then ultimately reject it. In both cases, I tied on, then offered, a larger micro Woolly Bugger in black, but neither fish reappeared. Round 1 to them. (Be advised, fishies, that I know where you live.)

Most of the fish came in water moving at a moderate pace, and all of those locations offered both depth and some form of cover, be it logjams, cutbacks, boulders, etc. Another smaller guy repeatedly whacked the fly as it dangled near his hideout beneath a cutbank.

The last fish was a spawned out female, 8″-9″. Please take care not to wade in gravel beds until mid spring s that the next generation can get a healthy start.