Back Roads

Back roads, woods roads, country roads or whatever one chooses to call them are favorites of mine. Most of these roads are made of dirt, or fine gravel. They generally wind through areas with outstanding beauty, beauty in the form of trees, flowers, animal life, meadows and for the most part they have an absence of  people. These roads lack those big sprawling homes, golf courses, and other entities that can not compete with the way nature laid it out.

These are the roads I like to travel. Not always to fish a stream that winds along the road, but I must admit that's usually why I'm there. But there are those times we go there to just park the car and walk the road. Pick up a few pine cones, or a few odd shaped colored leaves. To be able to just walk and enjoy hearing nothing can be reason enough to seek these roads.

Proper equipment, and the right vehicle is a must.

Very interesting items can be found. Some of a historic nature.

And some of a humorous nature. What meaning this has I don't know.

This is a prime reason I choose back roads.

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Hemlock Hills

Eastern Connecticut is a part of the state that has a landscape of rolling hills. These hills are covered with hemlocks and a variety of hardwoods that are starting to show there colors. Within these woods lies many small streams, streams that are cold and clean and home to wild brook trout. Last Friday I paid a visit to one of them.

Armed with a two weight and some flies a bottle of water and an apple I set off on a day that was to be one of the better ones of this Autumn season.

The stream was flowing nicely, clear and crisp. Leaves were falling and at times it looked like fireworks with the different colors. I started fishing dry flies and they were not welcomed. I tied on a Picket Pin, some of these I tie with no hackle or just a twist, this enables the fly to ride a bit deeper in the water.

As I approached this pool I saw to brookies lying in the tail. Pausing for a moment thinking of how to drift the fly I must have startled them for they shot up under the bank. A second or two later I cast upstream towards the root jam. As the fly drifted and was sucked under an orange rocket shot out and grabbed the fly.

Moments later this wonder of nature lie in the stream among the fallen leaves. I don't know which feature stands out more on this trout. Its red dots, blue halos, orange belly, red fins or black mouth.

It amazes me how they can swim through the maze of the stream. Blow downs, and wood debris that's so thick that only a trickle seems to get through. Well that was Friday in the east, today it's a stream in the west.

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Some Facts And Favorites

This is a few words about a favorite subject of mine, the wild brook trout. While fishing for them a few weeks ago in Maine I was able to get some information about them which I will bring to you at various times. When the European settlers arrived here the brook trout was in almost every stream and lake. Today they only occupy 9% of their historic range. In most states they have been pushed back into tiny head water streams, such as the one pictured above. These streams provide the "cold and clean" waters needed for their survival. These are true "natives" and need our help to continue to survive.

A Connecticut wild brook trout stream. The only litter that should be present is what nature puts in them.

The "Wardens Worry" This is a bucktail created by Warden Supervisor Joseph Stickney of Saco, Maine in 1930. It's a simple bucktail that requires few materials. I tie them in sizes 8 to 12. They have the ability to persuade trout and other game fish.

This time of year with all of the fairs and festivals happening one cannot help from straying from what they should be eating and what tastes good. This is a sweet treat that is available once a year to me. "Apple Fritters". We purchased them at a apple harvest festival Friday. The festival has been a tradition in the town of Southington, CT. for 40 years. Southington is home to many apple orchards.

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Maine 2012 Part Three

There are many small streams to explore, and many of them have good populations of brook trout. The fish run from 4 to 6 inches on average. In many of these streams my first choice offering was a Bomber dry fly, and to my surprise it was rejected. It did not draw a strike at all. I tried several other dries, EH Caddis, and Stimulators, flies that have worked well in the past. I decided to throw a few wet flies and see if they worked. Well I did not have to wait to long for an answer. Soon several brookies were at hand.

One of the pleasures of fishing these little streams is the ability to fish without waders.A pair of hiking boots, sling pack and fly rod, and you can rock hop to your hearts content.

There are those times when you may slip on one of those rocks, your reward is a dip in ice cold water.

A refreshing mountain morning...from the front porch of our cabin.

Some of the wet flies that worked well. Sizes 12 to 16, with the yellow winged ones working best.

A brook trout from a small stream taken on a wet fly.

A forecaster of weather. Perhaps I should have fished a woolly worm.

An incredible fish holding pool.

Wild brook trout, perhaps my best fish of the trip. Taken on a small wet fly.

Taking time to enjoy. Jeanette and I both agree this is THE BEST ice cream in New England.

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