With the recon reports filtering in all week telling of record low water levels, I honestly resigned myself to nothing more than getting a little fresh air and enjoying a late breakfast at our deer camp, situated a half mile from the honey hole; a hundred yards of lovely pocket water amidst a classic, southern new england trout stream.
I have fished with the "old man" ( the camp cook) for several years now and since he's a pure "meat" fisherman, I usually let him make a few casts before I decide whether or not to rig-up. If he doesn't score in 4 or 5 drifts, I'll pour another cup of coffee and wait for the temp to warm-up a bit.
The stockers had by-passed our spot for the last few years, favoring the bridge- dump locations where the masses congregate, a mile or so upstream. Again, I wasn't holding out much hope and was already fast-forwarding to our venison sausage and egg breakfast. Just then however, the "old man" whistled and I saw that familiar boil in the pool, that meant "fish-on." Well, now.....that was all the motivation I needed.
I entered 50 yards down-steam from him and selected one of my favorite nymph patterns. I'll spare you the fly-fishing, genus/species
entomology lesson ( sorry SILVERS) but let's just say it's damn "buggy" looking and to a trout, nothing short of a black angus tenderloin.
The stream was teeming with life, including several nice fish that I immediately marked in a 30 ft sluice, well within my casting zone.
Two gobblers were thundering off the hillside behind us and a lone grouse was performing his best Gene Krupa imitation a few hundred yards away. Add to that, rising brookies and browns and brother, you could skip my wake because I was already knocking at the entrance to the condo marked, "Pearly Gates"!!! It quickly turned into one very memorable day. I think they call that serendipity, no?? Here's a pic I took of the aftermath. Trout almondine in a dutch skillet tonight!! Here's to my beloved Connecticut and all of her splendor!!!!--TOOL
