Because the inland trout season is closed, I went for a hike today. Bad rain and thunderstorms rolled through all night, but that didn’t stop me from getting out. With my camera and rain gear, I headed out.
I went to a spot near the Ice Age Trail where I knew there was a spring pond. I had read online that over 500 brook trout were planted earlier this year, so I wanted to see it. I’m not one to pursue the planted fish, but I needed to get outdoors.
Even with it overcast, little blue winged olives were coming off the pond. The planted fish were doing acrobatics in the air to get the emerging flies. It was fun to watch, but it had that “look but don’t touch” feel to it because I couldn’t break out my rod.
The thunder kept cracking in the distance, but for my hike the rain did not fall. The deep spring pond was an aqua blue even with all the rain run off. The river in town had turned the color of chocolate milk, and I hoped all the rivers would be clear by the opening of the regular trout season this Saturday.
I have prepared all my gear and tied a bunch of flies, so everything is ready for the opener. I’m hoping to find a little place to fish in all the chaos. Last year I didn’t even try to fish the opening day. I went the second day, and saw all the carnage of the first day.
Last year, all over the river on the second day of the season, there were dead trout. It felt weird fishing in the presence of these dead fish. I remember there was an exceptionally large dead brown trout below one of the spots that I had been fishing hard all that spring. I had fooled a large fish sipping flies there, but I could never land him.
I thought about all this during my hike. If I had to this Saturday, I would fish so small and tight of a stream that it would guarantee my solitude.
As I ended my hike at the car, the rain began to fall. I can wait a few more days, but I hope the chaos of opening day is no where to be seen. I doubt it though.