 The Brook Trout: Drifting Back 50 Years
Posted by rickw on February 14, 2005
(2517 reads)
The cast was perfect. The leader unfurled in a series of gentle S curves downstream under the arch of the old bridge. As the tiny fly drifted closer to the place along the far wall, the angler could imagine the fish rising up through the gin clear water.
He knew the fish would be there. He saw it when he approached the bridge from downstream and always, he saw it in his dreams.
The rise was gentle, just barely a dimple on the water, and with a slight lift of the rod tip the fish was on. The angler skillfully brought the trout to the net, as he had done so many times before on other waters.
The old man held the brookie carefully in his hands. He had
caught many bigger fish, but none more special than this one. As he took in the beauty of the fall spawning colors of the trout he drifted back in his mind, back nearly fifty
years.
He was once again 12 years old, and his family had just moved from the Gulf Coast of Florida to a city in the Northeast. He had never been so
miserable. He would never again be able to ride his bicycle to the bridges that spanned the passes connecting the Gulf of Mexico with the coastal waterways. There would be no more fishing for redfish, specks, or the little Spanish mackerel that he loved to catch. No longer would he dream of someday catching giant grouper or tarpon.
One day as if by some small cruel consolation, the boy discovered a tiny stream in a little city park at the end of his street. The park was pretty much abandoned and ignored by most everyone except for a few older boys that came to the park to smoke cigarettes and drink beer. The boy was wary of them, but they were always too self absorbed to pay any attention to him.
The little stream wasn’t much to look at, but it was crystal clear, and stayed icy cold even on the hottest days. It flowed out of a little wooded area and meandered through the park over a bed of fine gravel and light colored sand. If you looked closely you could see places where the water bubbled up through the sand. Near the entrance of the park, the stream ran over a spillway and
disappeared into a huge culvert that was covered by a forbidding grid-work of iron bars.
In the fall, when school started, the boy would often spend afternoons after school walking the edges of the brook. One afternoon, in the shade of one of the arched footbridges that spanned the stream, he saw a fish. It wasn’t large but he could see the unique pattern on the back, and the white edged fins that he would come to learn were the markings of a brook trout. For weeks the boy would spend hours at a time lying on his stomach trying to cast to the trout under the bridge. Using an old steel bait casting rod given to him by his grandfather, he would try to entice the fish using worms and an odd assortment of old lures.
On a cool sunny afternoon late in September, he finally held the little brookie in his hands. He had never seen a fish like it, and he marveled at the red spots with their blue halos, the pumpkin colored belly and fins with their white edges. Sadly, the beauty of the fish did nothing to ease the guilt he felt knowing he had jerked the hook of the small lure into the side of the fish.
The old man blinked several times, as if to clear something from his eyes. He carefully removed the fly from the lip of the little brookie and gently placed it back in the water. He watched as the fish swam back to the place it belonged, under the old stone foot bridge, in the tiny stream in the city park.
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Re: The Brook Trout: Drifting Back 50 Years
by jeremy on February 14, 2005 http://www.fliesandfins.com | Rick,
Thanks for sharing that "fish tale" - I can surely relate to being that little kid - staring into the gin clear water in amazement with that one fish. I am sure, God willing, that in 30 years or so...I will also be able to relate to the old man. I really enjoyed reading that.
PS. You sent in the picture of your stream - and after reading your story and noting how you mentioned "the beautiful fall colors" - i had the perfect images to put in with your stream. my friend, marshall and i took these underwater photos of some wonderfully colored brookies this past fall. i thought they were fitting for your story.
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Re: The Brook Trout: Drifting Back 50 Years
by joey on February 14, 2005 http://www.fliesandfins.com | Rick, That was a nicely written story. Thanks for sharing.
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Re: The Brook Trout: Drifting Back 50 Years
by mike-c on February 28, 2005 | Very well written story, Rick. I enjoyed reading it - congratulations and enjoy that reel.
Mike |
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Re: The Brook Trout: Drifting Back 50 Years
by waterwhippa on March 01, 2005 | Rick,
Congrats! nice story bro, you deserve the reel for sure!
Dave |
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