A Mountain Adventure

Yesterday Kirk and I took a trip to Massachusetts near the Vermont border to fish some mountain streams for brook trout. We arrived around 7am to what was a warm partly cloudy day. The first stream we fished was one that I fished a few weeks ago located on the Franklin Land Trust property Crowningshield tract. This is a beautiful area and the walk through the field, which was in bloom whit more flowers that I could not identify but the picture might tell you what they were. Having fished here before I chose not to where waders and selected to wet wade instead. And in crossing the field I was wet to the waist in seconds from the wet grass, felt good though. The trek to the stream is somewhat difficult and steep and some caution is needed, but soon we were at stream side and the fishing began. We walked and fished for a mile or so through some of the most beautiful country on earth. The stream was in great shape with good flows, clarity, and cold water. The one lacking entity was the fish. In all the time there I had 2 strikes, and only one hookup. Kirk had several strikes and managed to hook 2 salmon smolts. Disappointed I was not, for I got to spend a few hours on such a pristine piece of New England. I will figure this stream out, I know there's a fine wild brook trout waiting for me.

We stopped for an early lunch along the stream. It was here the plan was made to fish a trib that feeds this stream.

As we were leaving we climbed this ridge that gave us a stunning look at the river below. This spectacular view will be one that must be seen in October.

The second stream is typical of New England. And in the same New England style it held brook trout. The second cast I had a rise.

Moments later I had the pleasure of holding my first wild brookie of the day. A beautiful dark creature that swiped a Bomber.

We only fished this stream a short while, with plans of fishing a third stream. Both Kirk and I took several trout here.

We drove a short distance through some gorgeous country. Rural as can be and home to my "mountain" people. Here we are stream 3. The access to this one was more gentle and we were glad of that. The one fact that has to be mentioned is the water temps. This stream was 58 degrees. Some underground source of cold water there no doubt. The stream was almost covered shade, hemlock,pine and various hardwoods saw to that. This stream was the jackpot. I kid you not when I say I caught 10 trout within a few feet of where I parked and in span of walking a few yards of stream.

These fish were so beautifully colored, having that look of Fall. Both Kirk and I commented on the colors and voracious strikes.

This pool gave me the incentive to visit here soon. On one cast a trout rose and took the fly. Having been hooked he went straight to the bottom. This is a trait I have experienced with large brook trout, especially in Maine. That fish held bottom for what seemed like eternity, all I could feel was his weight and a head shake or two. Putting pressure I finally got him to move, and that he did. He worked the entire pool, and I believed I was going to loose him. The rod finally won the battle and the brook trout gave up. I looked down and saw a large trout. I reached in to lift him and he spooked, running hard. I managed to bring him back. Sliding my hand under his belly he broke free and this time it was his success. This angler remembers. Stay well stream 3 brook trout...I'll be back.

After all that noise and splashing around, and after gaining my composure I tossed a fly back into the pool. Another rise and another brook trout. This wild jewel was a gentleman and allowed a fast photo and a big thank you.