Little Wintry Fishing
2/26/25
It was a cold foggy wintry morning. The cool water vapors, off the lying snow, rises into the warmer outside temps creates the foggy morning at 34 degrees. I packed the truck with my fishing gear and headed out to go fishing. When I got to the area, of the Delayed Harvest creek, I drove over the snowy ice covered parking lot and looked at the truck thermometer. It read 40 degrees.
I put on my hip waders, being this creek is a somewhat shallow creek, and cleated wading boots. Felt soles might clog up with snow and slide on the snowy ice covered banks so cleated soles are a must. I don’t think my hip waders shrunk over winter but lifting them to my waste they fit like a tight fitting corset! (Not that I really know what one wears like but I do watch old westerns.) I assembled the 4 sections of my 3 weight short Hardy Demon rod for the confined conditions I’d be fishing through. I fitted a new 5x 7’6” tapered leader to the fly line and knotted on a fas-snap. I grabbed a few cigars and put them in my Gortex fishing coat and headed to the creek.
The sky was a sheet of light blue gray shade with no sign of the sun to appear. There was no breeze so the 40 degree weather probably will stick around that temperature throughout my outing. Leafless forest tree limbs and branches hung over sections of the small creek like a horror movie picture. Their twisted thin twigs looked as if they would reach out and snag my casts if not careful. Because of the last couple days of snow melt the creek rose and with good grayish color to boot. It looked like ideal conditions. I noticed old boot prints in the snow and dog tracks. Maybe someone had fished the creek within the last couple of days or just walked their dog enjoying the wintry scenery?
I walked upstream and down to the creek. I started with a Woolly Bugger slow and easy as I figured the cold water wasn’t going to get any trout real active to chase a fast moving streamer. I slowly fished my way down creek stopping at times in deeper water to drift a nymph or San Juan worm. For quite a while I couldn’t get a strike. I was pretty sure there had to be some brook trout somewhere? Either they weren’t hungry or just too spooky if they were fished the day before? The water was in my favor with the discoloration but not enough they wouldn’t be able to see or find my offerings. I wasn’t discouraged though as I really didn’t expect much participation but at least a tug would of made me feel a lot better. Even so, the peacefulness of my surroundings and puffing on a good cigar kept me in high spirits. I knew sooner or later I’d find a hungry trout. It was good practice thus far roll casting and placing my offering where I wanted it.
I was pretty far down creek when I decided to return up to where I started. I waded out and through the forest upon the snow covered ground. By now my feet were cold and it felt like I was walking barefoot on a cold cement garage floor. I made my way to my truck and got a good gulp of cold water. I decided to just cast out Wooly Buggers and hope for the best. I wasn’t sure it had gotten any warmer but just maybe the trout were finally hungry for breakfast. I was pretty much where I started earlier and was offering olive, brown and popcorn color Woolly Buggers. I even tried a Triple Threat steamer but nothing was getting attention enough for a strike. They say in dark stained water to use dark color streamers. I decided, since none of the other colors worked, I’d try a pure white bead head bugger. There were stream improvements along the banks in sections for the trout to hide in shallower times. I was just drifting the white bugger near the log improvements not too far down creek from where I stood on the bank. I felt a bump and wristed the short rod for a hook set. It wasn’t like the trout grabbed the bugger like it was attacking it before it got away. It felt more like an easy take as if it was taking a slow drifting worm. Anyhow I had the trout and dipped the net into the water as I brought it towards the bank. A nice healthy brookie struggled in the net. After a quick picture I dipped the net back into the water and watched her swim away. I felt a lot better and hoped that the trout were going to be more enthusiastic about feeding.
Hey, I thought, maybe white is the best color for the day!
Walking upstream, and stopping now and then upon the bank, I’d cast the white bugger out reaching the far bank. I’d watch my fly line arc with the current until it straightened down creek. I would wait a bit, letting the bugger sway in the current before slowly stripping it towards me.
Each time casting out I would watch my fly line with my left hand holding the fly line off the reel. My fingers pinched the line would give me notice if anything grabs my bugger no matter how light the take is before my line straightens. There was a flat big boulder 3/4th the way across creek. I roll casted a big loop placing my bugger upstream and beyond the flat boulder risking a snag. I kept the rod high to make sure the line didn’t catch the boulder. My idea is, that if the trout were holding cross creek this my get a sluggish trout to follow the bugger downstream until the bugger stops swinging. Then it will grab the bugger while swaying in the on coming current where it’s easier for the sluggish trout to grab it. Once the drift got around the boulder I lowered the rod tip and let the bugger drift deep under the waving surface water. The fly line continued to arc as the bugger drifted into the slower current. I was looking downstream for my white bugger when I saw the flash of a following fish. Once the bugger stopped drifting in an arc the line strained down creek and I held it there momentarily. I felt the take like the trout ambushed it with a sweeping grab. I reared back on the rod and my second trout was pulling and tugging on the other end. I stepped into the water to net the frisky trout. Another nice brook trout came to the net.
Fishing pretty far upstream the creek got wider and shallower. The water was clearing up. I decided to fish my way back towards the truck. I covered the water pretty good with the white bugger on the way up so I decided to cast out an olive bugger on my way back down. I made long cast towards the far bank, as I made my way, and let it drift in an arc down creek. I maneuvered my rod, as the bugger drifted, so my offering would flow between boulders. I missed a trout as it flashed and swiped at my bugger. I felt it strike the bugger but must have grabbed the marabou tail. I casted out again and again it swiped at the bugger but not nearly enough to reach the hook. I gave it a couple more drifts in the same area but he must of figured it was a trap and didn’t go after it anymore.
Continuing downstream, in the same manner, I got a good swift hard take as the bugger was drifting. I reared back the rod and felt the resistance. This trout was a little more aggressive and tugged to get loose. Nearer to me I dipped the net and scooped up a healthy brown trout.
“Not bad” I thought.
The olive Woolly Bugger was neatly pierced in its lip.
After letting the brownie go I continued on till I got close to where I parked without another strike. I waded out, hooked the bugger to the hook keeper and walked upon the snow to my truck.
Changing into street clothes I looked and it was 3:10. I was surprised it was that late in the afternoon. I started fishing around 10:00am. I guess time flies when you’re having fun. I put my gear away and finished off puffing on the stogie on the way home.
It was a nice, though cold, outing. It’s nice to have a cutter while I’m fishing so the butt end of cigars don’t fray and come apart.
~doubletaper
