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| After what seemed like a long winter--my first trout this spring! |
Henry David Thoreau said, "Everyone should believe in something. I believe I'll go fishing." With the warmer spring weather I took the opportunity to catch a few trout on Friday. I don't get many days from work so when I do, I believe in spending at least a little of it rejuvenating my soul. Oh, I guess I could plop down in front of the television and watch something, but I'd rather spend that time outdoors chasing trout when I can.
The trout I chased on Friday are wild. They are not native, but they are wild. They naturally reproduce with no help from the Division of Wildlife Resources. These brown trout are wary, and sly. They eat the natural things found in the river. They are particularly susceptible to flies, but I know that when water conditions are right, they will eat worms and lures. My experience over the last four decades has taught me that once they rise and you miss them, it takes a while before the same fish will hit again. In this river, there is an estimated four to five thousand trout per mile. That's a lot of trout! While they are sly and wary, they are also hungry and if you know what you are doing, you can have some great success angling for these browns.
There have been good midge hatches and good midge anglers have been able to make good catches. The Blue-winged Olive mayflies are starting to show and the trout are starting to get more aggressive in their feeding. I saw very small (size 20ish) Blue-winged Olives flying about. They were very sporadic. I did not see a single fish rise for a fly, nor did I see any of the duns (adult mayflies) floating on the water surface. However, every trout I caught was taken with a dry mayfly imitation. This tells me that the fish are seeing adults, feeding on adults, and looking up.
There's something about the first trout of the "new" season. It's like meeting an old friend again. I'm sure the trout doesn't feel the same way, but for the fly angler, it's a time of renewal. It's like shaking hands with people you know and admire.
My fascination with wild stream-bred trout comes from a part of me that says "survivor." I admire the facts that lead to a trout getting to a certain size on its own, a trout that wasn't raised to a certain size in a hatchery, that had food handed to it by hatchery personnel. Stream-bred trout had to fend for themselves from the start. They've had to learn to adapt to their environment. They have to know what presents a danger and how to avoid it. I like that. To stalk, find, watch, and present a fly to a wild trout, and actually catch it, can be humbling in some regards and an ego boost in others.
So, I start a new season of seeking. I will go to the places that I know still have wild trout. I will watch. I will Listen to the sounds of the water, the sounds of a rising trout, the sounds of the cicada, the sounds of the birds, and the sound of wind shaking quakie leaves. I will feel the warm breeze on hot summer days and the coolness of morning and evening canyon air. I will see the colors of wildflowers and painted sunsets. I will watch the clouds billow above the mountain peaks, but most of all, I will see the colors on the trout: The butter-yellow sides of a brown trout with crimson dots and light-blue halos, the white underbellies, and leading edge of fins; the orange slash of a cutthroats jaw, the red gill plates, and dark spots and speckles. I will smell sage and pine and wild mint. I will believe in something bigger than myself, and once in a while, sit on a rock near or in the stream and softly pray.
