Sunday Kirk and I got together to fish a couple of small streams. Kirk is due to have some surgery on his foot and that surgery will not allow him to wade these little waters for about a month. We met at stream 1 about 7-8 am and after a game plan we started fishing. I started with an ant and Kirk with a muddler. After about a half hour I had nothing and Kirk managed 3 good brook trout. We moved downstream and I settled in a lovely pool that had trout rising and Kirk went further down. I started fishing the ant and no takers..they were still rising. Several fly changes...and no takers, several more fly selections...and no takers, but they were still rising. Frustration was taking hold and I could not figure it out. Selective brook trout in a small stream..how could this be. I finally tied on my smallest offering a size 18 Jassid...second drift and wham fish on-off that was the battle. Several more drifts and hookup, nice fight and a brookie-selective brookie to hand. I figured it out and another to hand. Then looking at the fly or what was left to it and that was the end of that series of success.
I worked downstream to find my way to where Kirk was fishing, all the while not doing well as far as catching is concerned. Kirk was close and said he had several more brook trout seduced by the muddler. The decision to head to stream 2 was made and I was happy...new water maybe better luck.
This wild one fooled by the Jassid.
We stopped for a spell to enjoy a cup of coffee, this store has a coffee blend that is tops. I also battled to bring from memory of a maple syrup place in St. Johnsbury VT that I wanted Kirk to visit....."Kirk the name of the syrup store is "Maple Grove Farms" check it out it's wonderful".
We arrived at stream 2 to find it in great shape. We fished it and had some luck, mostly Kirk that is. We both agreed that this stream has the most beautiful brookies in Connecticut. An hour or so and Kirk had to leave, and I had to stay and fish.
In the small pools and runs of this stream my day was made. This wild male brook trout slammed a fly, danced and darted trying to get free. He finally gained his freedom after a photo or two.
Frustration was a bad memory, flies will work, and brook trout will come to hand.