Red Brook, May 2014. A grand day at Lyman Reserve

Yesterday Jeanette and I took a day trip to Cape Cod. On the list of things to do was a few hours to be spent fishing Red Brook, and simply enjoying a walk through the lands that surround this wonderful place. We left home around 4:30 am and after stopping for a large road coffee to go we headed out on a 3 hour ride. We arrived as the traffic crossing the Sagamore bridge over the Cape Cod canal was building. Construction was the issue on this narrow bridge. The decision was made to stop at a local breakfast emporium and fuel up and allow the traffic to clear. After breakfast it seemed that our plan was not working, the traffic was still jammed. So we headed for Lyman Reserve and fish Red Brook. Ten AM, with bright sunshine, and no foliage on the trees was not good for angling for brook trout. To make matters worse the run of herring was on and there were ospreys, and blue herons about. But we came to fish and that I did.

After an hour I gave in to the fact that the fish were there but the conditions were not going to let me tempt one to strike. So I broke the rod down and we decided to walk the many foot paths of the Reserve.

As you can see, the sun was not in favor of angling, but it did make foe some beautiful views.

Walking and hearing, as well as seeing Spring come to life was truly wonderful.

There are many pine trees, and there needles make for carpeted walking along the paths. Many of these paths were lovely patches of flowers.

We walked for several hours, and it was time for lunch, after which I would head back to the brook for some late afternoon fishing.

The stream was now in shadow. There was a better shot at being able to catch fish now with some cover.

Everywhere the streamer worked in shade I took a strike.

The first Red Brook brook trout of the day came late afternoon on a simple red and white bucktail. I don't know if it was a "salter" but it did have that pale look. It was well fed as this photo shows.

Another brook trout on the red and white. This one had the look of a regular brook trout. These fish fight with a tenacity unlike others.

The last few casts of the day were made along this stretch. As the streamer drifted to the bank I saw the trout move to it and strike. I felt him, but not for long. The fly was cast to the bank again and the the fish chased again. This time the hook held.

The last fish of the day. A beautiful Red Brook brook trout.

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A Classic

Rough fast flowing boulder full streams. These are typical of many trout streams here in New England. These streams are home to both wild brook and brown trout. Living here these fish need be fast and strong to live their daily lives. Food when made available must be taken quickly. These are the waters of choice for me. And the type of fly I choose to fish is a dry fly. Fast runs and deep short soft pools are not the best place to float a dry fly. One needs a fly that will pop up and down and still remain visible. One that will remain floating as the current pulls and pushes at it and gives the look of an insect in deep trouble and very vulnerable.

This is such a fly...the Ausable Wulff. a classic.

A damp rainy September afternoon in 1964 on the banks of New York's west branch of the Ausable river the Ausable Wulff was first tied by Fran Betters. The first Wulffs were tied on big hooks, size 10. This was because the Ausable river is big, fast and and deep and such a fly was needed.

I'd like to tell you that the first trout taken on this fly was a monster, but that was not the case. About a half dozen 14 inch were first taken. And then a 21 inch brown trout struck the fly, in some rough stained water. It was that fish and thousands of trout later that keeps this Fran Betters pattern in my box. Some flies I tie I tinker with, adding something different, or perhaps removing a material. But the Ausable Wulff I tie true to pattern, just as Fran did. You can't alter perfection. There was something to the coloration Fran said to the materials when wet that worked.

Now I'll have some breakfast. This is also a classic.

"unpretentious"

Every year about this time I am reminded of a article by Datus Proper printed in Fish and Fly magazine called "Real Fishing". The article go's on to tell of the fishing for wild brook trout in the Shenandoah National Park in the Spring. Mr. Proper also said, in regard to the wild brook trout, calling them "authentic trout"...natives, no additives or preservatives.

This post of mine also adds to his thoughts and compliments of such angling for this true eastern native. Last Sunday I spent a few hours of real fishing along a lovely waterway here in Connecticut.

The "Trillium". This is the first sighting of this Spring beauty. Seeing this in bloom means "dry fly season" is officially here.

A small stream flows. This is where most brook trout live now in the east. The larger waters have been given to the brown and rainbow. But that's OK the brookie is doing just fine here and so am I.

The wild eastern brook trout. I will add my own name to this jewel.....I shall call him the "unpretentious trout" for that is what he and all that surrounds him is.

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Stream "X" and others.

Last Fall a good looking blue line was located on a map. The stream went far back into some state land and had what looked to be good access to water, which would give the stream nice flows. For what reason this stream was not explored at that time. It was one cold day in January when Kirk, Mark and myself decided to check it out. That outing did not last long. The woods were snow covered, and the stream was heavily iced over. So we left and planned to check it out during better conditions.

Well Tuesday I went to finally give the stream a good test. The walk this time was much more pleasant. The sky was cloudy with a sprinkle or two, air temps about 50. The stream had good flows and was full of the classic brook trout habitat. There were nice pools followed by series of riffles. Undercut banks along with downed trees provided adequate cover. So I cast the first fly and started my quest for wild trout.

I walked along this stream for quite some distance. I do not know the mileage but the time was two and a half to three hours. I cast dry and wet fly, and a streamer or two. In all that effort I never once took a hit.

A stream this nice cannot be devoid of trout. They must be there, perhaps I should have gone to the next bend, who knows.

It was a nice hike, and some very interesting looking caves were spotted. Perhaps at another time they can be explored.

In Connecticut we are fortunate to have many small streams, even some that get no fishing pressure at all. After my hike to stream X, I checked another stream close by. It's a beautiful little water that flows through some back breaking foliage. And to make a cast can be frustrating. But the rewards are there.

Several wild jewels were brought to hand on a "Black Fly".

I then moved to a third stream, this one also on public land. The waters of this brook have given brookies and once and awhile a nice brown. Working a soft hackle fly through some deep runs worked.

More and more wild flowers starting to show. With the rains of the last days it should bring many more.

As I walked downstream I came to a deep plunge, with a swift water flow through it. That has to have a fish in it. I tossed the black fly and let it swirl about. Sure enough a trout hit. After he felt steel he headed to the branch where he promptly deposited my hook in the submerged branch. Several tugs and the fly and branch were free. I false cast a time or two to let the fly dry. I tossed the fly in the water to see how it floated. Suddenly a trout came up and hit the fly, unfortunately he missed. Several more casts and no response. I tied on a soft hackle and sent it into the swift water. And what do you know a trout hit, and hit hard. The fish battled with a force not know on this stream. I knew he was a nice fish.

As the brook trout lie in the water I glanced down and could not believe his size. With camera ready I lifted him out of the water and snapped the memory forever. Removing the hook I held him in the water for a moment or two. Suddenly he kicked and was gone.

This is a fish I will not forget.

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