Small stream report: First wild brookies of 2017

Jan3

The older I get, the more I embrace the philosophy of, “I don’t need to be right.” But boy, did I make a good call about fishing a small stream today.

I thought there would be enough water for the fish to be comfortable in. Yes, there’d be more tomorrow, but with a cold front approaching — and plenty of cloud cover — today would be the better mid-day option. So I visited an old friend from 11am-1:30pm. There are three things I want to tell you about.

Nature finds a way. This particular brook was disastrously low when I visited it in August (not to fish, just to look). Yet somehow the brookies made it through the stress of a scorching summer that reduced their home to a trickle. Today, I pricked ten, landed six. Jeez, I’d sign up for that in May. In January it comes off as an unimaginable bounty. I’ve never done this well on this stream in winter.

The first salmonid of 2017. I don’t usually handle fish this small, but this gorgeous creature made my heart leap up in my chest. Happy New Year!

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Droppers are the quickest way to find out what the fish want. You may be bored with me saying this, but I will continue to shout it from the rooftops. I started the day with a size 16 Improved Sofa Pillow dry. After 15 minutes of no luck, I added a 2x short size 18 SHBHPT dropper. While most of my fish — particularly in the deeper pools — feasted on the dropper, the dry took the largest char of the day.

One swing and a miss — then on the next cast, the kill shot delivered.

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Small streams in winter are places of unparalleled tranquility. It rained the entire time I fished. My left boot foot leaked. My fingertips were frozen. Funny thing! I looked at my watch and realized I’d been fishing for two hours. Sure, it helped that the catching was good. But watching the smoke from my Punch Gran Puro Robusto curl into the mist didn’t suck either.

Looks cold. Was cold. And wonderful.

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How my fingers got so numb. But the Fontinalis fins were worth the price of admission.

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Skunk cabbage, brookies, and…snow?

Apr23

Just when you you thought it was OK to go outside without a jacket, Mother Nature throws a day like today at you. Well, I had my heavy fleece on when I stepped into the woods and headed toward yon brook trout stream. But snow? Geez, I knew it was cold (41 degree air temp at 9:30am). I guess I was emotionally unprepared for frozen water to be falling from the sky.

The stream was up, running clear, and warmer than the air. No hatch activity save for one lonely caddis witnessed on the hike out. I don’t know what to make of this stream. In two hours, I pricked ten, landed one. I fished dry upstream and wet downstream. The significance of that is that I drew only two strikes subsurface. I would have expected more action below.

This leads me to several possible conclusions:

1) This stream is continuing the downward trend it has exhibited over the last few years.

2) That cold front last night sucked the life out of the bite.

3) I have absolutely no idea what’s going on.

I can say with certainty that are are far worse ways to spend a morning than wandering along a thin blue line with a fly rod in your hand.

Amidst the dreary browns and greys of winter, wondrous chlorophyl makes a statement.

Holding the first native of the year in your hands — then releasing her — is always a special occasion. She took the dry, a size 16 Improved Sofa Pillow.

Small Stream Mini Report 10/24/14

Oct24

A fairly gloomy type of day with drizzle, heavy mist, and fog-covered mountaintops — also known as breathtakingly beautiful. The drive was long, the woods and water chilly, and the creek was up and slightly stained from the recent rains.

The brookies were hunkered down today. I could tell right away that the dry would be unproductive, but I gave the Improved Sofa Pillow and the Bomber a fair shake. After pricking several and landing a couple, I switched to subsurface. That made all the difference. Weighted micro buggers and bead head soft-hackles in both dark and light colors met with approval.

Mountaintop shrouded in mystery. What secrets would her brooks reveal?

I wouldn’t say it was a banner day, but one thing’s for sure: three hours on a remote mountain stream beats the tar out of sitting at one’s desk. Especially if there’s a Rocky Patel The Edge Corona Gorda in the mix.

Van Gogh’s “Starry Night” vividly rendered on Salvelinus fontinalis flank.