Visiting an Old Friend

It’s been over a month since I last saw a Trout, and being that I caught and released a wild trout in every month of 2009… I wasn’t about to fail in the prime season of 2010. Since backpacking into Eden Creek, I haven’t set foot on a trout stream. I had a killer day on a pond, and then went on Family Vacation to Ontario. Vacation for which I had great plans, but the weather had other plans. A quick cold-snap, and terrible wind put a severe damper on my fishing, though I did manage a single nice bass. They were out of season so I stopped fishing that location shortly after (was looking for rock bass, Gar, etc… anything in season).

This pool is usually nearly still. It produced several strikes nonetheless. So last evening after work, I headed to one of my favorite foothill streams for a few hours on the water. I could hear as I approached that the water was high, undoubtedly the result of a strange, but welcome, storm a few days ago, which brought cold weather and even some snow to the local mountains – quite the rarity in late May (though so was fairly intense snow on Mother’s Day in Ontario). The Higher than normal water is really a nice sign for the small local stream, indicating that prime flows will likely last well into August, and fishing should be superb all summer long.

Finally a trout to hand. Its been too long. As I stepped into the cool waters, it was like shaking hands with an old friend… we kept our distance at first, me painfully hoping she would treat me as well as she always has, and as the first 10 minutes passed without a hookup, I feared my privilege here was on shaky ground. But I continued on, plying the waters with the dark brown Spongebob Caddis (the only fly I used all day), and soon was rewarded with a beautiful little dink, a wild trout as all fish in the stream are. With that fish began the rhythm of the day: Cast, Drift, Set, Land, Rinse fly, apply floatant, repeat. It wasn’t that fish were caught on every cast, nor that any were particularly large (I usually find the larger models when I start the day with a 20 minute hike – but isn’t that always the case?), but every fish was a blessing to behold, a step in the right direction.

It seemed every fish hooked would wrap the line around the thorn-laced blackberry bushes in this run. Just one of about 8 varieties of wildflowers that were in bloom. The extended spring, and moist winter has been a blessing for the trout, but it’s likely that the streamside vegetation has gained more – nettles already reach up 4 feet – which is seemingly double the height I remember last year, and the blackberry thickets have gone from the withered mess of thorny vines of winter, to a lush green, forming a line/leader/fly/wader snagging tunnel – forget fishing from the banks – wading straight up main-street is the only way.  

Normally, no water flows to the right of the yellow stripe in the rock... and the plunge pool on the left is normally fairly calm. The fish were in all the likely spots, though with the high water, the stream didn’t fish like the familiar water I know: areas that are normally slack water were turned into reversed eddies, shallow riffles were transformed into raging rapids, and even the small falls were beyond their normal bounds, water pouring over the rock that normally forms the bank.

A lovely day on the water to be sure; comfortable T-shirt weather, ample bug life, dozens of lovely fish to hand, and not a single lost fly – what more can I say? I felt like a changed man – freed from the grips of the daily grind. Upon my return home, my wife (33 weeks pregnant with our first) noticed my enlightened spirit, simply saying “You look different”… She was right of course, I am different, rejuvenated, relaxed – it’s amazing what a couple hours in the mountains, in the company of some wild trout will do for the spirit.

I'll be back again soon. I promise.



Congress Mandated: Afternoon Fishing Time

With the welcoming in of Daylight Savings Time, alternatively known as "Afternoon Fishing Time", I had the great notion of going trout fishing after work. With fairy sticks in hand, Justin and I took off in hopes of a glorious couple hours before the sun slid behind the mountains.

Fly look familiar?To one of my favorite small streams we headed, flush with water from melting snow in the upper portions of the watershed, the stream was running high, but at 50 degrees and clear, the trout surely didn't mind, as this is a welcome change from the marginal trickle they generally subsist on.

 Fishing spongebobs and "royal" parachute ants, we had many rises and brought many a wild trout to hand... but few exceeded six inches.

 The dinks were out in force and without much time to hunt for the larger models, we made the best of the day haunting beautiful, wild, dinks. Nothing to complain about really, as the dinks always seem to have the most beautiful markings - a couple, in fact, showed the tell-tale crimson stripe of a rainbow preparing for the annual dance - rather impressive for a 7" trout - along the lines of a freshman going to prom.