Last Chance Trout Dance
By: Dave Zeug
Every year toward the end of August I find myself noticing the first subtle signs the seemingly endless days of summer will soon be over. More often than not this realization occurs when I’m on a trout stream. Maybe it’s the lengthening shadows slipping over the green foliage along the stream or the odd splash of color in an over hanging tree, but whatever it is, I know that even though time seems to be standing still and high summer will be here forever, the seasons wait for no one.
Trout streams are beautiful places all times of the year, but seem to be at their best in late summer. Traditionally, I always try to slip in one more trip each year before the fall activities start in earnest and the pace for our kind quickens. With the thousands of miles of trout water in the Upper Great Lake states, it’s not hard to find a stream for that final trip.
Last year was no different. I was walking along a ridge overlooking a pristine brook trout stream where I learned to love trout and the places they call home, when I spotted a blackberry patch near where it was so long ago. After grazing on the plump fruit for a few minutes, I continued past the finger ridge where 45 years ago this fall, Dad shot that fork horn on the last day of deer season to the surprise of everyone except his 13 year old son. It was a trip down memory lane, but I was anxious to see how the stream had faired over the last few decades, so I slipped down the ridge and through the yellowing ferns that showed the first signs of another summer gone.
The first indication that things had changed was the low water conditions the recent drought had caused in the north. A stream that had enough depth and volume to keep the brook trout scattered throughout its course now had the fish congregated in a few corner holes of sufficient depth to hold them. They left wakes behind them as they fled upstream in the calf deep water, looking frantically for a place to get away from the bumbling creature that had entered their world.
I figured it was time to slow down and let the fish settle a bit, so I sat down on a barely submerged rock for a few minutes and let the cold water wrap around me like an embrace from an old friend. Funny how as the years pass this gets easier to do, but it was a good strategy. Taking my 5’ ultra light rod with a small spinner, the only realistic tool in this small stream interlaced with alder branches, I headed upstream.
The shadows were getting longer. I was confident that if I could find a little deeper water I could slip the spinner into, good things would happen. I was right too. My first cast resulted in nothing less than a swarm of trout attacking the spinner with a bright 10” male brookie in vivid spawning colors winning the race. I paused to admire him for a moment before releasing the lightly hooked fish. Although I'm not opposed to keeping a few for a meal of fresh trout, in fact I intended to today, I've found it's bad karma to keep the first trout you catch. My next cast resulted in its twin, who was soon nestled in a bed of moistened ferns in my creel, but then the action stopped.
The gin clear pool was only mid thigh deep, but there were no trout visible now, just an old stump laying in the middle of the stream. Walking up to it, I gave it a nudge with my booted foot and trout broke out in all directions. Brookies can be aggressive by nature, but they also learn in a hurry. My experience shows that it doesn’t pay to spend much time fishing a particular pool. If you’re going to get action, it will happen fast, usually on your first cast and a few casts into each holding area is enough. Follows or the flash of a trout’s flank behind a spinner is not unusual. Sometimes a second cast will work after a refusal, but more often then not it won’t. You're better off moving upstream, looking for another active fish.
By the end of the day I wasn’t only tired out from ducking and weaving over trees, brush and downed logs, but also impressed with the sheer numbers of trout in the stream. I'd landed several brookies and German browns between 12” and 15” long and lost count of the number of smaller fish I’d caught, including a half dozen rainbows, evidence that migrant lake run steelhead also made it up into the headwaters to spawn. Clearly the 30 years that passed since my last trip on this stream hadn’t hurt the trout population. What was amazing to me was the lack of sign of any other fishermen. Certainly over those 30 years, others had fished the water, but what was clear is that this particular stream wasn’t being fished much anymore. Years ago, while it was unusual to actually meet another angler on this stretch of river, there was always some sign of activity, either a broken branch mid stream or a boot print on a sand bar. Now the only tracks I saw were from the wildlife that call the stream thread home.
On the drive home, I thought a little more about the changes that seemed to be taking place along the inland trout streams of the north. I realized that in all my trips the last few years, often parking on public land, I hadn’t run into another fishermen. One thing was clear after a day on this stream though; the trout were still here, eager, uneducated and willing, kind of like that young boy fishing with his Dad all those years ago.
I'm a trout fisherman. I have been for years and hope I have another decade or two in front of me, but at this stage of the game, I'll be satisfied with whatever comes along. Looking back I was dealt a pretty good hand in all sorts of ways. OK, I might be a little light on big bucks, both kinds, but if you hunt for food and never got into that gambling thing, that can happen. But time spent trout fishing is another story; in that category I'm doing just fine. Besides, if Dad's theory that days spent on a trout stream aren't counted against your allotted hours on this remarkable planet is true, I've got bonus time coming.
If you go, grasshoppers and other terrestrial fly patterns work great in streams big enough to use a fly rod this time of year and a short spinning rod works wonders in smaller streams. You'll likely find a vibrant fishery and a high quality experience if you put in the time. Keep in mind a late summer day spent on a trout stream is always a day well spent. The fall will be here soon enough.
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