That Season...That "Glorious Season"

This is the last day of September, the skies have opened up and gave us a much needed drink. I have not seen an actual rainfall number but from my not so sophisticated rain gauge I make it 2 inches. From radar views the state may have exceeded 3 inches. This influx of water will have an impact on the small streams and bring some movement in wild trout.

The scene above is the start of the "glorious season"...that magical time when nature paints the New England area. The colors that come forth this time of year are nothing shy of incomparable. The season refreshes both mind and soul and gives us thought to the fact that there is something greater and this is just one way of showing us.

 

Both the brown trout and the brook trout choose this time to start the process of renewing their  species.
 

The colors of these fish will increase as time arrives to spawn.
 

Scenes like this are fully underway in Connecticut.
 

Autumn's colors are represented in this simple box of flies. I believe that these will serve me well for he next couple of months.
 

 

Well this one worked out.....

Over the course of a year I'll find about a dozen or so new streams. Of that dozen I'll maybe explore eight, and of that eight perhaps four or five will hold trout. The trout may be browns or brookies and some may be there in numbers and some of the streams will have but a few. Exploring these streams is enjoyable in the cooler months of April and May and again in September, October and November. One of these streams I had the pleasure of fishing was located in the hills of eastern Connecticut. The stream was flowing with clear cold water and it tumbled down the hill through a nice mix of hardwoods.

A series of pools and riffles provided the necessary habitat for a few willing fish. I would guess this stream holds fish all year long and may have a few added to it's roles come October from an adjacent larger stream.

Here is one the beautiful residents of this stream.

Pretty sights abound. A variety of soft-hackle flies came into play..and a dry or two.

You never know what might be in a place like this. Most times you just see it as it explodes swimming away form you. But sometimes you have the first shot and a drifted fly gets attention.

A special moment when your able to lift the jewel from the stream. Photograph it and release it, suddenly it's gone, vanishing into the thin water.

At the end as you walk to the car your at peace. All is well my friends.

Streamers, Brook Trout, And Sore Knees...One Of My Best Days

Yesterday I can honestly say was one of the ten best days of fishing in my life. I experienced in a few hours the pure joy of doing everything that one needs to do to be able to say that this is what truly what fly fishing is. The stream I chose is one I'm familiar with. It has a gentle side to it and a nasty side. The walk in can be seen as a gentle one as pictured above. There is a mix of hemlock and hardwood with open banks. It is here that many brookies were slashing at the fly offered.

This is a small stream anglers dream. Runs, riffles and small pools. The area is open and tangle free. It is here where I was catching many brookies in the 3-4 inch range. They were viciously attacking the streamer I was fishing. It is here where the fishing became a challenge. The exposed roots became a dominant factor in the comfort factor, I mean they raised heck with my ankles and knees. I try my hardest to stay out of the water at this time. Most of the fishing is from the bank and you can get yourself into some precarious positions standing on roots and rocks and I probably should have found a more stable casting place, but that's small stream fishing.

It was in this pool that I was forced to use the upstream streamer technique. This is a method I first learned of while fishing the Upperdam pool in Maine. It involves casting upstream and stripping the streamer back at a fast speed.

This beautiful male brook trout found that streamer traveling at the speed of sound to much to resist. He hit that thing and actually began to take off line. It was a memorable battle with all of the tricks we both had in our play books coming into use. As he rest at the bank I slid my hand under him and lifted him to take a photo. The streamer slid out and he lay there for a few moments. He then swam off into the stream.

This pool was a challenge. A nice flow coming in and heading to a pile of wood. The pool was deep and its bottom thick with silt and fallen leaves and hemlock needles. I tried to stand on the small rocks but could not keep my footing. I wandered to the area where I could get out onto the clump of woody debris. It was here that I could make a decent cast into the pool. On the third cast I felt a fish take the fly, a surface splash and it was off. Several more casts and the pool seemed dead. I said to myself there has to be a few more in there. Several more casts and then I felt the tug of a good fish.

My goodness you talk about a fight...this guy was mean and was not about to be subdued. Luckily he did not try to go into that nasty tangle of wood. I was able to get control and brought the regal native to hand. A wild brook trout in all his glory...carry on my friend.

This was a special day in Brook Trout Forest.

Two streams, a tale...

Sunset Sunday evening...so beautiful. With that I expected Monday to be a fairly nice day, and it was for some but not to me. Clouds thickened as I drove to the stream I chose to fish, and soon those clouds deposited some rain. The rain was very light and spotty as I drove and I was assured by the local forecast that it was not going to persist. With the clouds and rain there was also a damp chill in the air and a flannel shirt and rain jacket was needed to make me feel good.

The drive to the stream was not long, perhaps 50 miles and when I pulled over onto the dirt parking space I could hear the stream.

As I walked the path through the woods I could hear rushing water, it got louder and louder. There it was, a small stream full to the brim. The gentle flow that I was used to did not exist. I said to myself this was going to be a tough outing. I fished the stream giving it my best, but to say it was difficult would be an understatement. So I made the decision to try another stream which was about 10 miles away.

This was that stream...totally opposite from the stream I just left. This stream has several deeper pools and that's where I fished. The brookies were very receptive to my offerings and I really enjoyed the rest of the outing...what a difference 10 miles made.

The brookies were sized according to the stream. One fly was all that was needed...a Cinberg.

Pumpkin bread, grilled in the pan with butter.

I Believe.....

After so many years of fishing small streams I should know that surprises happen. Some come in the form of lots of fish, a brookie or brown taking a fly that it really shouldn't. There are the times when I slip and fall in and find out I did not break a leg. Cold snowy days when the trout are rising to "bombers", and days when coffee from a thermos that really tastes good.

Today, I found out something that I suspected but never experienced. While fishing a blue line I noticed a smaller blue line feeding into the one I was fishing. Looking into it I saw quite a few brookies. It's said as the streams rise this time of year they tend to draw brookies up into them. I think they seek these waters to spawn. Now I'm not one who will not say that's just a stupid idea, I mean what if they dry up. On the other hand these fish have been doing this for centuries and have survived just fine....so what the hell drift a fly, I did just that and once again I was gifted.

Now friends take a good look at this wild brook trout. A spawning male with a hump in his back, orange, blue, yellow, red, black and white colors mixed into his body. An incredibly strong fish who rose to a Ausable Wulff and bent the heck out of my 5' 3wt....a fish that did not surrender and as I lifted him up to take a photo he twisted and freed himself of the fly....moments later he was gone. This is a memory never to be forgotten.

One of my better days.....

Monday and Monday night we had some pretty decent rains. This was well needed and I was anxious to see the stream levels, as well as how the fishing would be. Small streams rise quickly and fall almost as fast. In each stage the stream can become somewhat dirty and cloudy but will usually clear up before to long. The places to fish when this clearing process is happening are the riffles. It is these areas where the cobble bottom and faster flow clean the water to almost perfect conditions. Such was the case yesterday when I took to the woods in search of some willing brookies. The air was damp with the spattering of rain from time to time. A few instances the sky brightened for a minute and soon the clouds took control.

The streams bottom doing its work of clearing the water.

The brookies were active with several taken in a few minutes.

Now looking at this section of stream it seems to shout "brook trout hiding here" a near perfect place to hold and ambush a meal. The fly drifted near the undercut and a fish rose and missed, but continued to follow the fly as I drew it in and swiping at it again. I waited a few minutes before I cast again, and this time the fish was on. I could feel the power of the fish as it wen straight for the nasty stuff along the bank. My thoughts were of a good sized brook trout, but as I turned the fish I could see it was not a brookie but a brown. That brown owned this section and was not going to let a 5' 3wt fiberglass rod take him in, and for the most part he had the upper hand. The only issue that crossed my mind was if the hook would hold....

...it did and this beautiful wild brown was at my feet. As he lay there I reached for him, I slid my hand under him and lifted him. A quick photo and as I placed him in the water I could see the fly had come out as the fish lay in the water before I lifted him up. A few moments later he swam off.

These are the places my friends....

...where the wild jewels are found.

More on this fly later.

Beauty abounds.

Turning The Calendar

Good morning friends. Here it is the first day of September, Labor Day weekend is here and I'm sure there will be a few hot dogs and beer consumed over the next few days along with many other delicious specialties. Well whatever you choose please enjoy the holiday.

September is also the start of the meteorological start of Autumn and that's welcomed here. The next month will feature a variety of weather conditions as well as a few great days on the stream. By the end of the month we will have entered the "glorious season"....an anglers dream. Let's be patient and the rewards will come.

Figure out a way to wrap this to a hook.

The Orange Palmer, a great fly for the Autumn season. These are tied on size 12 and 14 hooks but don't be afraid to tie them larger.

Find yourself a place like this, float a fly and see what happens.

Guys like this swim in places like those pictured above.

It's So Good My Friends...

Thursday morning broke with one of the coolest temps of the summer. My thermometer said 58 but the temp in the part of the state I was to fish in was a lot different. It was a morning when I broke out the flannel shirt to help take away the chill, woods and water helping to reverse what the flannel's mission was...I need coffee.

The stream I was fishing offered a bit of everything as far as terrain, there was that rocky freestone mountain type and a more gentile meadow type of flow. Areas like the one pictured above had these lovely quiet pools with boulders and lots of high grass.

In these pools were some very hungry brookies. Most of these little pools held a couple of fish but the disturbance of hooking one put the remaining fish in hiding.

In looking at this photo when I put it on the computer I noticed just how perfect this wild native was. So beautifully proportioned.

A Hummingbird getting some energy from a Cardinal flower, a high speed lens would have helped.

As you can see the fly that was working was a caddis, a big caddis.

A bend in the stream, foam on the water, a slight woody tangle and a good flow of water....you think there might be a fish there?

There was and on the second attempt at the fly a hookup.

What a great small stream combination....Cane and Silk glass rod, Battenkill reel, and a killer caddis.