Finding
Color
3/09/2020
I
decided to take advantage of the 60 degrees March weather. I grabbed
my 7’ 3 weight Diamondglass rod and took off to search for color.
The
soft creamy clouds hovered above beneath the baby blue sky. I didn’t
see the sun but it’s warmth was evidently present. As I looked out
towards the creek the bare treed forest reassured me it is still a
part of winter.
While
I was assembling the Diamondglass rod a guy with a spinning rod
returned to the only other vehicle in the lot. When I got down to the
creek I had it all to myself, at least for a little while. It wasn’t
long before my 3 weight rod was swaying and bowing like the flimsy
pine branches wavering in the breeze. Color came to the net in form a
trout, a brook trout.
The
narrow creek water fluidly flowed clear rippling over rocks and
submerged wood. Along the far bank the water calmed away from the
main flow. Rough water surged faster between bigger rocks and deep
enough not too expose the bottom settled fish. As my Woolly Bugger
swings at times I catch sight of a fish or two dart towards my
offering. Sometimes they appear to strike it as if toying with it.
Other times it’s just a quick ‘look see’ and a refusal.
Sometimes it’s a quick subtle tug. The slow rod action arcs easily
without any backbone on a take. Because of this my hook sets have to
be forceful and as quick as the take. The rod bows deep in the butt
section and at times I see the trout turn away and the rod
straightens with a limp line. When I get the good hook set the rod
flexes and wiggles protrusively. The brook trout tugs and dart within
the rough water sometimes coming to the surface with open mouth
trying to dislodge the hook. Within reach I extend my arm and, with
the rod arced to the max, net the colorful trout. It’s sides
shimmer in the daylight. The orange fins catch your eyes immediately.
The yellow spots on it’s silvery blue skin and variegated back are
attractive and only appear on such a trout.
After
a few more catches I decide to give up my claim to the young folks
upstream.
I look
down creek and see there is plenty of good water to find trout. As I
wade down creek I make long casts letting the bugger swing. At time I
have to concentrate and loop a good cast low so my bugger flips
beneath hanging limbs and plops near the far bank. My offering starts
to swing with an arced line towards the main current. The arc line
momentarily shortens with a slight stoppage. I rear back on the glass
rod and the line tightens and the struggle is on. Another colorful
brook trout dashes and scurries within the cold water making the rod
sections dance in delight.
Down
creek I come to a rush of water that enters a deep pool. A thick tree
trunk extends from the bank side half submerged atop the water
surface. The main current rushes towards the trunk and slaps against
and underneath it. From there the flow banks against land and then
bends to the left downstream.
Casting into the slow section of the deep pool has no takers. I cast
a couple times in the rushing water and let the current take my
offering down creek and deep into the pool beneath the trunk. I feel
a tightness on the line but miss the take. A couple more casts and
drifts and I hook into a fish. The rod sections bows and flexes as I
retrieve the battling trout from the deep pool. To my surprise I land
a nice colorful rainbow hold over. It’s vibrant pink streak is
apparent in contrast to it’s black spotted light olive body.
After
the release I pull from my vest a robusto cigar. I unwrap the
cellophane wrapper and tuck the wrapper in a pocket. I reach for my
lighter as I look down creek.
After
the light up I continue on searching for more color.
The
hemlocks now line the stream more often. Their short blunt olive
leaves add color to the winters leafless forest trees. With the
breeze their twig like branches sway back and forth above the water.
A hazard no doubt but their presence shades the water beneath for
needed cover of the trout. Here and there I pick off a brookie and
come to catch another rainbow in a deep pool.
As the
sun fades and the air gets cooler I walk my way back upstream through
the forest. I reach the section of water I first started. A couple of
lads are fishing the section of water where I was so blessed with
hook ups and fighting trout. I watch as one catches and lands a
trout. His long fly rod barely arcs the tip section as he reaches
down to net the trout. They leave soon after.
I cast
a few times in the section they vacated without a hook up. I step
onto the bank and head to my truck. I lay the rod on my tailgate and
take a bottle of beer from the cooler. While putting away my gear and
changing clothes I listen to the riffling water. A breeze causes the
flimsy pine branches to sway. Dry leaves skitter across the open
yard. I climb in my truck and call it a day. I found color.
~doubletaper
