Monday was the Opening Day of major league baseball, well actually it opened on Sunday night but for Boston Red Sox fans the big day was Monday. With the game scheduled to start at 3pm I had some time to do a little angling. The weather was predicted to be sunny and warm with temps near 60. So the 3wt took me to a small stream in search of a few willing takers. By the time I reached the water it was near 11am. The stream had recovered from recent rains and had a beautiful bright flow.
I had chosen to fish a section downstream from where I normally start. I have not been down there in quite awhile. There is a long pool that starts a strong broken run, then at its tail becomes a nice riffle with a bend that has a wonderful set of undercuts. I sent out the fly to do some work. After many many casts I finally had a hit. On then off. I worked down through the pool with out another hit. I changed flies a time or two but still the same result. As I moved to the end of the of the pool to where the riffle started I noticed what appeared to be a rise. I gazed at the spot and several moments later a saw a rise and a slurp. There were a few bugs in the air but this rise was different, it was sort of a slow methodical picking off of the surface, the kind of rise that is associated especially at this time of year to the little black stone fly.
I tied on a small black soft hackle and worked the fly just under the surface. As the fly reached the spot where I saw the fish rise a swirl was spotted and the hook set. A moment or two later and this pretty brown trout was at hand.
I continued to fish the pool, always looking for another rise, and another did appear. Casting to where the fly would meet the fish and he rose and missed. I continued to observe and let things settle, I even walked downstream to fish, but I did return to the pool and let the fly do its thing.
The results. This was no easy fish to land. He knew what to do and where to go. But eventually the little glass rod had convinced him to surrender.
