Closing November With a Salamander, Opening December With a Walleye

 November 2020 was the warmest November in my memory. I saw the last timber rattlesnake of the year on the 5th and the last black racer of the year much later than that. Stripers remained surface active well into December. So when the final day of November came with a good heavy rain and more unusual warmth, I went out to see if I might find one last spotted salamander crossing the road this year. This past year gave me the most remarkable spring amphibian migration day I've experienced yet, and it seemed likely it would show off a few more herps very late into the fall. With close to ideal conditions, I set out driving an area I'd had exceptional luck with during the spring. After an hour of driving very slowly down windy back roads through wooded Eastern CT hills, I was about to give in and accept defeat. I'd seen a single green frog and a couple wood frogs that cleared the road before I got to them. That wasn't much. Then, while another car passed me, I saw the tell-tale shape of a large mole salamander on the center line. I flipped the car around as soon as I could and hoped it would still be there when I got back. Sure enough, there it was. It hadn't moved at all. I put my hazards on, donned my safety vest, and went out to photograph the last salamander I'd see in 2020. 

See Spot run.

I was pleased enough with that to head straight home. But the next night was pretty warm as well, and I knew the influx of rain would get some other animals to move, too. Some would remain moving a couple days after the rain would end. What I was most interested in the night of December first though was Sander vitreus.

Walleye.

Though the spring rains are undoubtedly my favorite time to fish for these white eyed nocturnal predators, fall and early winter provide another great opportunity. I made tracks to my favorite creek mouth with my five weight and a box of woolly buggers- all that is needed to catch big walleye in these conditions. Heavy rains draw big walleye to creek mouths almost year round, and they are available within fly casting range in shallow water for a short period during and after the deluge. This night was ideal, and I wasn't at all surprised when the third cast resulted in a doubled over rod. This was clearly a gigantic walleye. I've had a few fish between 27 and 29 inches in my short time frequently seeking trophy 'eyes, but this was clearly in a league of it's own. The head shakes were huge. My heart sank when my line went slack. That was probably a 30 inch class walleye. It was still early though, and I kept plumbing the depths. Eventually I was in again. It was no 30 incher but it was still a great fish, more than enough for a brief celebration. 

It's tail was huge and it had great colors. That fish ended up being the last walleye of both that night and the year- not a bad way to end it. I look forward to spring; I'll still be after that 30 incher. I won't be satisfied until I've broken the walleye fly rod world record. Until next time.

Fish for the love of fish.

Fish for the love of places fish live.

Fish for you.

And stay safe and healthy.

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Edited by Cheyenne Terrien