A Wild Brown Trout
With no fish in my bag from my "Sea trout" trip, I decided to get out again before Thanksgiving. All the rain, however, was a problem and I couldn't decide where to go. I was sure there would be plenty of fish in the Salmon, but I was also sure that there would be way to much water; the USGS data on this site confirmed that. I ruled out a couple of other spots for whatever reason and decided to try Dickenson Creek as I usually always manage some sort of luck. Luck I did have, but there would be an unexpected problem.
I began at the Lyman viaduct and walked upstream. LOTS of water and plenty of leaves and silt to boot. Because of all the dirt I chose a spin-fly with a white/black blade and, because of previous experience on the river, I made sure that the body and skirt were black. The skirt had a streak of chartrouse in it.
It wasn't easy, but before too long I had 2 salmon smolts-- typical of the stream. So the fish were hungry, anyway, and my lure was at least able to be seen. After a while of nothing but leaves I arrived at a pool I hadn't noticed before. An evergreen tree had fallen across the river and the needle-filled branches were slowing the water very well. The top of the pool was a confluence of the river after it was split by an island. There was a couple of large eddies to boot. This was the most favorable spot so far, and I decided then to unshoulder my tackle bag and spend some time and pick the pool apart.
After a dozen of casts and no hits, I began to step out in the pool and get my lure into a few far corners that I missed. I made a cast at the furthest eddie and as soon as I felt the blade kick on I felt the treble get taken hold. I pulled back on the rod and felt nothing, but weight. Then I felt a violent head shake of a fish and the line sliced up stream, my drag clicking a few times. Yahoo! I smile creased my face, but vanished as the fish began to "dance" underwater and then launched itself out of the eddie, and into the current. I kept the rod high and felt as the fish continued to tug and rode the current towards me, then pulled even with me, and then kept on going by. Now the drag was going again and I followed the fish downstream, but the fish soon tired and I began to gain my line back working it towards the shore.
Here I finally saw my fish and was taken back. This was a 12"+ Brown trout with massive fins. The back of the fish was dark and this lightened and turned gold at the stomach. The head was pointed with a kype just beginning. Rather than the more typical red "halos" around black spots, this fish had solid red dots and solid black spots; the reds were few, but vivid against the dark brown flanks. The leading edges of the ventral fins were a bright white. *whistle*
And here was the problem. Once again I had my query in hand, but I couldn't keep this fish! Legally I could, but because of my own set of ethics I couldn't bring myself to end the fish. He gave a memorable fight on a river that I have been building memories since I was seven years old. I also knew that this was a true child of Dickenson Creek, and for a wild trout to gain this size in any of Connecticut's rivers was a real feat. So, after fumbling with my camera's timer for 20 seconds, and still no photo, I cradled the fish into the still water at the edge of the river and waited for him to catch his breath. Thirty seconds later he swam away.
I took a libation, caught my breath, and checked the time. Got to get home before the wife catches me leaving work early! I packed up and went away back through the Mountain laurel and hemlock.
Thanks for the reviews guys. I do a lot of fishing in the fall/winter and it is fishing that I am particularly passionate about. I tend to hold on to the memory a little better.