Monster Rogue Brown Trout

 Trout wander. Some go upstream, some down. Some wander down a tributary, up the river it flows into, then into another tributary. This is how fish spread and proliferate, it's a necessary function of their evolution and survival. Sometimes this results in trout, be they stocked or wild, finding their way into water that isn't looked at by most fly anglers as trout water. I'm talking about the trout that go way down, as far as they can. Some go to big, slow, lower river channels, some end up in lakes or ponds, and some end up in estuarine waters and become sea run trout. These trout often get big on a greater abundance of bait fish, or they already are big and that's how they survive- usually the sort of places these fish end up have larger predators that happily chow down on small trout. Encountering these fish takes a lot of skill and even more luck if you intentionally try to catch one. Most of the time though these trout get caught by people casting lures for bass, stripers, walleye, and other species that are well known to inhabit the water they're fishing. 

I still remember my first encounter with a rogue trout. It was a wild brook trout caught out of my home lake, a place nobody would ever rightly expect to catch such a fish. I did not catch it, my friend Dalton did... on a wacky rigged senko of all things. The fish was near the mouth of the tributary it had undoubtedly come out of, feeding on corn that had been thrown into the lake to attract carp. It remains the most impressive wild brook trout I've personally seen caught in CT. 

My own history with actually catching these rogue trout in Connecticut, be they sea run, lake runs, or what I call "river runs" that drop from tributaries into large slow rivers, is filled mostly with disappointment. I've caught only one definitive sea run brown trout, a small but stunning wild fish that I landed back in 2014. River run and lake run fish have been just as scarce for me, though I've had my encounters. Then, just a couple weeks ago, Lady Luck smiled and I happened into a monster. 

I'd been putting a fair bit more effort into trout in general but particularly big, rogue trout this fall and early winter. With a summer of exceptional rainfall allowing- and in some cases forcing- trout to move around, I figured there'd be a better chance of running into big ones in what some might consider unlikely places. After a bunch of trips without the sort of success I was really hoping for, I set out one morning under cloudy skies and cold conditions to cover a piece of water that could hold some large trout. I fished thoroughly, starting at the uppermost point I thought I might encounter a trout and working down towards the mouth of the river. Not everywhere was reachable or fishable, some of it was too deep and swift and chunks of the bank were private or just too treacherous, but I felt I would be able to cover enough. 

The fish came at the tailout of a large pool, in slick gliding water like I'd expect an Atlantic salmon to roll in. In fact, the fish rolled my fly, a big white Drunk & Disorderly, very much like a salmon. The squared off tail that began slapping the water, though, said monster brown trout. That's exactly what it was, a huge rogue brown trout. The fish gave a pretty good fight on my 6wt, running a bit, thrashing on the surface, and dogging deep. Soon she was in the shallows and I had her. The still-worn fins signified that the fish was of hatchery origin, but proportionally she was shaped like she'd been around a while. She was miles from anywhere such trout are stocked, and had the wounds to show that she'd been around the block. Scars on one side of here head were clearly left when an angler removed the trebles of a large striper plug. This is a brown trout that has been cruising around striped bass and maybe even bluefish haunts. 

At the time, since I knew it wasn't a wild fish, I wasn't as excited as I probably could have been. It was an exceptional and in many ways unlikely fish. Considering how long I've known that catching these rogue fish was possible, I'm really glad it came to fruition. Now I just want to do it better. I want more, I want bigger, and I want wild. 

I'm obsessed. I probably need help. I'm in the salmonid mood again and I'm hell-bent on catching the biggest trout I've ever seen.

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.

Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, John, Elizabeth, Brandon, Christopher, Shawn, Mike, Sara, Leo, C, Franky, Geof, Luke, Streamer Swinger, and Noah for making Connecticut Fly Angler possible. If you want to support this blog, look for the Patreon link at the top of the right side-bar in web version.

Edited by Cheyenne Terrien

Searching for Sea Runs with Alan

Yesterday Alan and I went to visit some coastal streams with potential for both sea run browns and maybe a rogue sea run brookie. In fact, the first stream was chosen specifically for its salter potential.

Unfortunately, it seems that all that prevents this from being a prolific salter stream is one small, useless dam. It has the advantage of running through mostly private and very restricted power plant property, and being small enough that most wouldn't give it so much as a glance anyway. It does have land locked brookies, but we couldn't get to them legally. And I wouldn't at all be surprised if, from time to time, one or two got stuck downstream from the dam and were forced into a salter lifestyle. 

The next stream we payed a visit to is known for it's sea run brown trout, but has some brookies as well, though no documentation of a sea run brook trout has come from it any time recently. Cormorants rained on our parade there. I hooked and lost one small brown trout, either wild or an Iijoki. Which, I do not know, for I did not get a good enough look. Down river, alewives were running strong. The dark bottom and tannin stained water made photographing the live fish difficult, so I scooped up a dead one. 

The next stream, not far away, has a far more robust wild trout population. This one was the true gem find of the day. We will both be visiting it again. I alternated between a purple leach and an Ausable Bomber. The streamer took the lions share, a half dozen brookies and one sizable brown, which clearly ate the fly but came free and then got hooked in a ventral fin. But the bomber took the prettiest fish in that stream, a remarkable looking brown with huge dark spots and fantastic gold coloration. That fish fought remarkably well, doing stunning high jumps and tail walks. That fish alone settled it: I had to revisit this place. 

 

  

Salmo trutta

Dark, tannin stained streams make dark fish.

On the way back towards home, we stopped at another stream, one I'm much more familiar with and have fished for years. Lately, it seems to producing a lot of gorgeous but smaller than average brookies... like this one:

Salvelinus fontinalis

This is contrary in a lot of other streams in the are, which, for the last two years, have been lacking in younger year classes. Why this stream differs I do not know. Another thing that's different about it but shared by a stream directly opposite it in the same drainage is an abundance of dace and common shiners. And they're getting active now. So, I decided to catch some. I got three species, actually. Eastern blacknose dace, fallfish, and common shiner. It was a nice little breakaway from the trout fishing. The tanago hooks are bringing home the bacon, I caught my smallest dace ever! I can't wait to get to some water with new micro species. 

Luxilus cornutus

Semotilus corporalis

Rhinichthys atratulus

When we got back to the car, we found it covered in brown stoneflies, all females carrying and depositing eggs on the shiny surface. 

I love spring.

If you enjoy what I'm doing here, please share and comment. It is increasingly difficult to maintain this blog under dwindling readership. What best keeps me going so is knowing that I am engaging people and getting them interested in different aspects of fly fishing, the natural world, and art. Follow, like on Facebook, share wherever, comment wherever. Also, consider supporting me on Patreon (link at the top of the bar to the right of your screen, on web version). Every little bit is appreciated! Thank you to my Patrons; Erin, David, john, and Christopher, for supporting this blog.

It's Time for Frustration

If you enjoy what I'm doing here, please share and comment. It is increasingly difficult to maintain this blog under dwindling readership. What best keeps me going so is knowing that I am engaging people and getting them interested in different aspects of fly fishing, the natural world, and art. Follow, like on Facebook, share wherever, comment wherever. Also, consider supporting me on Patreon (link at the top of the bar to the right of your screen, on web version). Every little bit is appreciated! 
Thanks for joining the adventure, and tight lines.

"Frustration" is an equal and accurate replacement for "sea run brown trout fishing"... it is that time of year again, the time when I start visiting tidal rivers to look for the most ghostly salmonid in the state. I have not caught an adult sea run brown trout since 2014, and that was the first one I'd ever caught. Fishing for them is usually cold, usually slow, usually in fairly drab surroundings... but the mere thought of catching even one big, chrome brown trout makes it something I do with regularity. And yesterday it was these rare fish that I went looking for, and these rare fish that I didn't find. I had a 30 fish day, but that didn't stop it from being frustrating.

The first stream was dead as a door nail. Nothing doing, no bait, no evidence of any fish at all.I started out swinging a Magog Smelt, worked my way downstream through the first set of runs before the stream turned to all slow water. Then I worked back up from the opposite side with a nymph and egg. This is very typical of my approach on a small-medium sized sea run trout stream this time of year. I didn't spend much time there, though, and didn't want to. It didn't feel fishy at all.

The next stream was a different scenario entirely. There were a lot of fish feeding. An absurd amount. They were almost all ugly little stocked brown trout. I couldn't keep them off my flies: nymphs, wets, small streamers, big streamers, swinging, bottom bouncing, fast stripping... it didn't matter, those little hatchery fish latched on again and again. It was fun (or just funny) for a little while, but then it got old. I couldn't get away from them, they seemed to be in every hole and run. 

In the end this was a little less frustrating than the bulk of my sea run brown trout hunts, many of which result in complete skunkings, no fish of any kind hooked. But it left me a little annoyed because I now new I had to rule out one of my closest potential spots because of those darn stockers. They'll be in the way for months to come. 

This is not the last time I will intentionally go get frustrated this winter. Hopefully one of the times I go out intending to get frustrated, I somehow won't. 

New Streams and Old Haunts

Went searching yesterday. Somewhat aimlessly. Fortunately even relatively aimless searching can bring up good results. Noah and I fished some eastern CT streams, a few of which I haven't fished and one of which is a familiar place for me. My only sea run brown trout came from there, actually. But the first place that was really worth visiting was a small suburban stream that I suspected would have brookies and browns. It definitely had the former, of which I caught a half dozen, but I cannot yet confirm the latter yet.

On to familiar water. A cormorant was messing things up for use here, and it made the chances of catching a brown that had seen some salt much more difficult, but a strong stonefly hatch was on and a few fish were rising aggressively. I stopped fishing to take some photos. 

The frustrating part about this was where these trout had stationed... getting the right presentation from the only available casting positions was next to impossible. I missed two takes before we were frustrated and done and ready to go just beat up bluegills, pumpkinseeds, and hybrids in one of my favorite small ponds. 

Brookie Weather

This week has been pretty much tailor made for winter brook trout fishing. I not too cold, not too warm, not too wet, not too dry. Winter stoneflies in any sort of numbers are still mysteriously absent, but brook trout eat whatever they can whenever it gets near them in these cold, clean streams. 

The last couple days the only two flies I've needed for brookies have been a Sexy Walt's Worm and my favorite, the Ausable Ugly.

Yesterday I made a four hour long sea run brown trout hunt. I was quite disappointed with the amount of life where I fished. The problem with these freshwater tidal rivers I was fishing is that baitfish migration timing very much dictates when sea run trout will be here. Unlike salty estuarine zones, there are not the ever present and abundant grass shrimp, so finding sea run browns here is dependent on influxes of fish like spottail shiners, banded killifish, and river herring. Only banded killies were around today and they weren't making themselves easily available to predators. They were sitting Over dark mud in about three inches of water in one back slough. I caught one, just in case I didn't make it to the small stream I planned to end the day on.

The little stream I visited yesterday for brook trout is a not one I fish often despite the fact that it is close to home. It isn't hard to get to or anything, but there isn't much of it and I'd never really done well there. In three or four visits over the years I've caught exactly one brook trout there. This time was much better.

Today is a warm one but if I fish for brook trout it won't be for long. Tonight I'll be going after bigger fish with wide mouths and striped bodies.

The Hand You're Dealt

When you are targeting sea run brown trout or weakfish in CT, you are playing a game in which nearly every hand your dealt is a bad one. Eventually you get a winning hand but it doesn't happen often. In the weakfish scenario the dealer is the local sharpie crowd. They are very suspicious and intentionally sort out a bad hand for you by not saying a damn thing when the fish are in or where they are. Surf casters are the same way, but weakfish guys... whoa boy. I respect them for it though, it takes a lot of time and effort to find CT's nearly non-existent weakfish. If I figured them out I would hardly tell a soul. So although the game itself isn't too hard, putting time in for something that may or may not happen during one of the busiest fishing seasons... eh. It may or may not be worth it. But in this game you must play the hand you are dealt.

Dan and I played our hand last night, and we lost. No tiderunners. Full out skunk, actually. Sand eels were around and the tide was perfect. But the weaks were a no show. I suspect we were just too late in the season. Was the epic blood red moon worth the long ride? Hard to say when the same moon rose over a lot of great striper spots not far away.

Go ahead and try to find where I fished. 

Oh, but sea run browns! You're playing Texas Hold'um and nearly every hand you are dealt is 2-7 offsuit. There's seemingly no chance you'll ever catch them. And every time you try weird things happen, because these are weird fish. 

I should add, this all happened before the weakfish hunt, but frankly...whatever.

Friday night I made a short trip to my closest sea run brown trout stream. Hopes were not high. The target fish was not found.

On Saturday I went to my go-to sea run brown trout stream. I've had a lot more chances there than any other stream. On this trip I caught trout almost immediately, but they weren't sea run browns... they were chrome tidal water rainbows! WHAT?!?!? Five of them... How did they get here? When were they stocked? I won't bother asking too many questions, CT micro steel for the win! In fact, the only fish I caught in water where I'd expect to find the occasional stocker were bluegills, bass, and grass pickerel. 

I did actually see some large sea run brown trout, but they weren't willing to actually eat the fly. They followed,  dorsal brushing the surface and tail waving behind. Just like sharks. It was cool to see, but I really would like to have caught one. Next time. Or the time after that. Or next year. Who knows.