Farmington River Report: I have 20. Do I hear 21?

Some fish are gifts. Others are earned.

I got a little of both on this one. Earned by putting in my time for the past six weeks, then slogging through woods and water for thirty minutes on a steamy water-pouring-down-your-face August night, dodging beavers and raccoons and who knows what else just to get to this bloody out-of-the-way spot. Then, gifted with a sharp tug just five minutes into the fishing.

Battle details: taken in water moving at a good walking pace. The hit came as the dead drift transitioned to the swing. Two sharp tugs, then hook set (it has been reaffirmed this summer that the big ones rarely miss if you let them finish the job). Once hooked, the fish sounded as is the habit of larger trout. The interior dimensions of my net are 17×13: It took multiple attempts to net him, including one botched swipe where aluminum rim collided with spotted flank in a manner it probably ought not. The fly was an olive over black Master Splinter foam-backed mouse.

For some reason, the walk out seemed quicker.

Farmington River Report: The rewards of putting in your time

After more blanks and (relatively speaking) dinks than I’d care to mention, finally a really good night. Hit four spots and found hungry fish in three of them. I had more bumps than I could count. Four fish to net, three in the upper teens, and the fourth just in at 20″.

This buck was hiding under a tree, waiting to ambush. Taken on the dead drift.

Brown Buck 8-15


A substantial hen that crushed the fly on the swing.

Brown Hen 8-2015


Saving the best for last. She whacked the fly on the swing, then followed up, but no hook set. Two casts later, I started to strip at the end of the swing. Ker-POW! I had a little trouble fitting her in the net.

Big wild brown hen 8-2015