First impressions didn't firm up my certainty that this stream would have fish. It had that size and structure that could easily go either way. I fished a number of pools without seeing a fish, and I was starting to think there probably were not brook trout here. Then, while I wasn't paying attention, my Ausable Bomber got slashed at by what had to be a brookie. I missed the hookset and the fly got stuck in a fallen tree behind me. When I went to retrieve it I saw something really cool.
After I said goodbye to the tree climbing water snake I finally hooked into my one and only wild brookie of the day. Clearly, this stream is not loaded. But there are a few here and there between the waterfalls. Maybe this area will get a few good water years and this stream will cycle and be full of brookies after two or more spawn cycles. This one fish was a beauty, and fairly substantial for what is really a tiny little creek.
Before heading for home I had to take a few casts in another stream right by the road. Unfortunately I didn't find the wild browns I had hoped for. I caught a handful of yellow perch and little fallfish.
On the road home we spotted a cemetery that looked too interesting to pass up. It was actually made up largely of revolutionary war casualties and veterans. Many of the headstones seemed ancient, clearly cut from native rock instead of marble or granite cut in other states. These native schist stones really showed their age. Some were literally crumbling back into the earth. This really was a fascinating piece of history.
Outings like these are often more memorable than all out fish slam-fests. We saw so many cool things. There's more to fishing than the fish, and there's often more to fishing than the fishing!