I fished the lower end of PTMA yesterday from noon to 3:30pm. Once got to the river, I ran into a group of wonderfully chill gentlemanly anglers, and we had a short gab-fest before I decided to head into the river for some pre-hatch prospecting. Bob, of Bob-and-Andy fame, was also there. I’d met Bob-and-Andy at this mark many years ago, and since then, it’s really not April unless we cross paths on the river.

The wind made it an unfavorable day for casting a team of three wets, but I managed to go almost the entire session without a fouled-up leader. After an hour that produced one lonely bump, I declared to the group that one or more of three things was true: there are not a lot of fish here; the hatch is going to be underwhelming; the trout are content to feed on the bottom. It turns out that options A and C were likely in play. When the hatch finally got going, around 2:15pm, there were bugs everywhere: in the air, on the surface — and precious few trout rising to them. I’d give this hatch volume an 8 out of 10; when you can count the rises per minute on a few fingers (instead of dozens) that’s not going to make for epic fishing. Normally, with this Hendrickson hatch volume, I’d bang up a good dozen fish or more fishing wets pre-hatch and during the emergence. Not today.

What did follow script was the place in the water column where the fish were feeding. Pre- and during emergence, they took the wet, until the point where they didn’t, and then it was dry flies on the surface. This is a good time to talk about shadow hatches, which I do in the Farmington River book. In addition to Hendricksons, there were also caddis and BWOs in the mix. The savvy wet fly angler will want to have at least one of those other food groups represented. What do you know? Of the three trout I took on wet flies, two came on the caddis middle dropper (Hare’s Lug and Plover).

I managed two more on the surface, bringing my total to five. At the risk of sounding ungrateful, I was not impressed. Of course, I could have gone elsewhere. But with three anglers below me and five above me, real estate was scarce. So I stayed.

Today, writing about it, I have to scold myself for being so dour. It was a sunny, April day. The Hendricksons were out. There were some rising fish who wanted to eat. I got to reconnect with old friends and make some new ones. I didn’t put two dozen in the hoop or land a 20″ wild brown. But, yeah. That’s still a really good day of fishing.