Sprung, Spring Has

The governor said we could fish... so I did.
Of course, I would have anyway, but my choice of waters was increased substantially. Now I could finally legally hit some places I'd never gotten to in late March before, brook trout water I knew would be fishing well but had to stay off of through the closed season. Come the week following opening day I'd fished these places and the fatness of the brook trout I caught lead me to believe something spectacular had been going on before I could get there.

The late winter, early spring stonefly emergence probably peaks during closed season. It's the first notable dry fly fishing of the year but only available on limited TMA and Class 1 WTMA streams. Not this year.

I chose a cluster of three similarly sized streams in close proximity. Each one has a slightly different character, but share the same bedrock, the same mix of macroinvertebrates, and the brook trout look pretty much the same. Very dark, typically. Shortly after hiking into the first the clouds of midges, stoneflies fluttering on the surface, and frequent rises told me I was in for a good afternoon. 

I put the Ausable Bomber to work. Frankly, I'm not sure why my small stream box isn't filled with only five flies: The Bomber, foam beetles, the Ausable Ugly, and Picket Pins, because that's about all I've ever needed. The bomber would take any riser I presented it to this day were it cast tactfully and from an obscured position.

With so many rising fish, I took the time on a few occasions to simply sit back, relax, and watch them do their thing. I even took the time to sneak around them so as not to put them off the feed. For a couple stretches of creek I was simply an observer with no intention of intervening at all. This is something I personally believe more fisherman should try to do more often.

I didn't need to cast at every rise, I knew there's be plenty more fish. There always are, on days like this.

After a dozen fish to hand I decided to move on to the next stream. I elected to fish a stretch I never had before, a bit I knew had a beaver meadow that looked great on the maps. I caught a few brook trout before I reached it, but the abundant dimples and wide open casting lanes when I did reach the meadow made me grin ear to ear. Oh, and add a sixth to my fly box, the Sturdy's Fancy did the job on these small but splendidly dressed native char. Blue winged olives joined the midges and stones here. Sprung, spring has.

The beaver meadow yielded a half dozen fish, one much larger than the youngster you see above,. but that little fish was far better looking. Simple maybe, compared to some rook trout. But quite lovely.

As the sun crept lower I made tracks to the third stream before I lost daylight. There, I tied on the Ausable ugly just for a change of pace. Dangled the buggy nymph/small streamer in the current and waited to feel the thump of a hungry brookie. I didn't have to wait long. Another dark wild fish danced on the surface as I guided it in my direction with the rod. I talked to it as I landed it.
"Do you know how happy you make me? Of course you don't, you're just fighting for your life here."
Barely lifting the six inch fish from the water, I turned the hook and gave it a little shake. "Lucky for you, I'll fight for your life too", I said, watching him quickly swim away.

A second and final fish fell to the Ugly before I called it a day.

Keep in mind, with this open season and the extra free time we've been forced to have, that it is possible to pressure fish too much. That is a concern I have for the duration of this pandemic. Please take this into consideration. Spread your fishing pressure out as much as possible, both to keep crowds to a minimum and to prevent undue pressure to sensitive fisheries.

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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