My birthday is long gone in the rearview mirror by now, but I'm still remembering a nice big brown trout I caught two days before my birthday. In fact, the picture of this fish was last month's Photo of the Month, but until now I have not told the the story of this trout.
Each year, I have a birthday tradition that includes going fishing. It doesn't always fall on the exact day, but I always make sure to enjoy some time on the water and relax. Since I had to do some guiding a couple of days before my birthday, I decided to hang around at the end of the day and get some time in on the water.
Choosing where to fish is always a challenge, but I was soon on a nice stretch of pocket water with a good pool at the top of the section. Working through the pocket water, I caught some nice rainbow trout on the same rig I had for my client. Arriving at the pool after slogging through some fast water below, I noticed a nice brown trout out feeding. Three casts with the nymphs produced one look but no eat, and I knew that to have any chance of catching that fish I would have to change flies.
Searching for the right fly box, I realized with a sinking feeling that it had been left in the car. This was not the time to leave as I was in perfect position and moving again could spook the fish. I would have to make do with what I had on me. Finding a different box, I scrounged around for a good fly. Noticing a streamer I had tied more as a combination between a joke and an experiment, I shrugged my shoulders and decided to try it out. Fresh tippet came first and then the fly. Glancing up, I saw that the fish had moved and would require a few moments of rest before I started casting again.
Finally, it slid back into its feeding position, and I started casting. The first cast was too far to the left, but the next cast was perfect. As the fly swung into view near the fish and I worked it with the tip of my rod, the fish charged over and inhaled the streamer. I set the hook and lurched to my feet from the cramped position on my knees. Immediate the fish made a run into the faster water below the pool, and I got nervous. Somewhat encouraged when I saw the fly firmly stuck in the corner of his jaw, I focused on easing the fish out of the heavier current and towards my waiting net.
The moment of truth was anticlimactic as I got the net under the fish. Sitting down, I held the net under water so the fish could rest and breathe. After admiring it and taking a couple of pictures, I watched it depart quickly. Nothing could top that moment so I waded across the stream and headed back to my car. Some days, it only takes one fish and to ask for more would be greedy.
