Today, I traveled from Long Island to the East Croton River in Putnam County, New York. The weather on this early March day was to be in the 50’s with overcast skies and thundershowers likely in the afternoon. Since I’ve done well with a little rain (I guess that the fish don’t see me as well!), I was optimistic. My goal today: to avoid being skunked again.I have been to the East Croton River twice before. It is a short stream linking two reservoirs in the New York City water supply. Fishing it requires a special license from the New York City Department of Environmental Protection in addition to the New York State fishing license. In my prior two trips I had neither landed, hooked nor seen a trout. Prior to Opening Day, April 1st, this water is the nearest open trout fishery to my home. Having seen recent postings of steelhead and browns in New York, I had the itch, real bad! After getting my son and daughter off to school at 8:00 a.m., I hit the road. After only 2 major delays, one on Interstate 95 north in the Bronx and the other on the Hutchinson River Parkway in the Bronx and Westchester, I parked at the stream at 9:45 a.m.Upon arrival, I was surprised to be the only car there. (Usually, the stream is quite crowded during the period when no other water is open.) True to the USGS website, the river was running high and fast. I checked with my thermometer and the water temperature of this tail water was 38 degrees Fahrenheit. I was glad that I had my polypropylene long Johns and my fleece socks to keep my legs and feet warmer under my breathable waders.I set up for nymphing with a tiny bead-head and headed down to the stream. I have only fished here when the regular season isn’t open, so it has always been cold. Today started off with the air temp warmer than my previous trips (in the 50’s) with fog blanketing the river in an ominous shroud. As I stepped into the water, two things stuck in my mind, the water was cold (although I stayed pretty warm – not too numb) and the 8 inch round rocks on the bottom were slimy and slick. I concentrated on not wading deeper than mid thigh and made several decisions to avoid chancing a fall, especially in this rapid, cold water. I spent about 25 minutes trying to work some pocket water before I worked up into a larger slick between two slow moving runs. A couple of casts later, the indicator hesitated slightly, I reacted with a tip lift and I was into my first Croton River Brown Trout. The take was not dramatic. I gather that this is typical of cold water hits, and I considered myself lucky to have reacted when I did. Several minutes later, with no aerial acrobatics, I muscled my first blood of the year from the current and after several short side to side attempts to flee, I scooped it into my net to prepare for the CPR. I know that by most standards, this fish is no prize. But, it made my day! Every fish caught in a new situation is a trophy to me. Each catch suggests a lesson learned in this devotion that receives so much of my attention. I removed the bead-head from its front and center lodging in the upper lip and tried to figure how to photograph God’s creation with a net between my legs, a fly rod in my armpit, one hand on the camera and the other hand dwarfing the fish with my grasp,. Had the fish been the size of most displayed on this site, I couldn’t have spread my arms far enough apart to capture the image in one frame.After snapping the image, I held the fish with two hands as I lowered it into the frigid water. After two pumps it wriggled franticly and I watched it dart away back towards its holding lair. I continued casting and searching to no avail for 2 more hours as the fog lifted and the sun shone on this little piece of paradise. No rain fell, no thunder was heard and 5 more cars appeared, parked near the access point to the stream. My little brownie was my only action for the day. Its significance far out-measured its meager length. It signaled the beginning of another season. It satisfied my yearning to live on the edge and it gave me hope that this year, I may still possess the ability/luck to deceive other fins with flies as the season progresses.
awesome fish-tale.. in my opinion, size is relative. when i fly fish in little mountain streams for wild brook trout… an 8 inch fish is HUGE. Big, is a very subjective and relative measure of anything. I used to commercial fish for swordfish, mako shark and tuna (longlining).. Everything was measured in Big and Volume.. We would set 1,200 hooks per night and catch thousands of pounds of huge fish. Then I went to Alaska and gillnetted for Salmon.. Again, thousands and thousands of pounds of huge Salmon… So, for me… “Big” and “Volume” is kinda borring. I have caught every fish worth catching in the ocean and believe me, those were all “Big”…”Huge” in fact… These days, I prefer the challenge and find satisfaction from chasing trout/salmon and saltwater species with flies and from shore….. I like boats.. but again, having spent 30 plus days at a time fishing round the clock in the gulf stream on longlining boats … I like fly fishing from shore if I can. Sometimes, certain species require a boat – and under those circumstances, I will be the first one on board.. but in general.. I like my feet on the ground and chasing trout/steelhead/salmon and saltwater gamefish with flies only.
Sorry to ramble.. it’s just important to me that fliesandfins.com is a place that IS NOT just about big fish and lots of fish.. but more about the heart and soul of fly fishing and your fish-tale is, to me, what fliesandfins.com is all about…..
Now, I do LOVE steelheading.. and those fish just happen to be big:) .. but you should have been with me when I would regularly fly fish some of the tiny mountain streams on the blue ridge parkway in western virginia. The only thing to catch was wild brook trout.. Let me tell you what.. I would spend all weekend hiking up and down the mountains, scaling huge boulders and searching for the next little pool… in search of monster wild brook trout… most of the trout were 5 inches or so.. and a real monster would have been 9 inches…… 12 inches was unheard of…
great read – thanks aviddavid…
actually one more thing – to be honest – i am really looking forward to opening day here in maine… i have some spots that i visit that the state stocks — and i gotta be honest — i really love going to these tiny streams and searching for some brook trout or brown trout. i sometimes sit on a rock and just dangle a wooly bugger or a prince nymph.. i do it every year — and i really look forward to it because it offers me something unique … just sitting there – relaxing – no real effort required and no big fish whatsoever … but i get so much satisfaction when one of those trout eats my fly…and i really enjoy just sitting there on a rock beside a quite stream watching the brookies …. won’t be long now
“Its significance far out-measured its meager length” This statement alone speaks volumes to me. Big fish are really great and I’ll be the first to admit I am totally adicted to chasing Steel. However In the fly fishing world everthing is relavent. To you, this one fish symbolized the begining of spring and the promise of another trout season. I love the old haunts where I “cut my teeth” and learned the ins and outs of trout feeding habits, water hydrology, insect life etc… Bravo! an excellent adventure in every sense as far as I’m concerned. Thanks for sharing
Nice, great job, all troutare trophies in my book
Really on target for all of us who are pulling through a long winter waiting for that first trip to a stream. I’m with those that say size isn’t really important. I relate to the stream, and not getting skunked is the goal that tells me I’ve done things right – read the water right, tied the flies right, drifted the rig right. Just being on the water and relating to nature makes it all right. Lord knows how much stuff in my life isn’t “right.” That’s why I love fly fishing. A big fish simply spices up the already wonderful mix of stream, fish, and just being outdoors.
I agree, as you can see from this picture at: http://photos1.blogger.com/img/187/7065/640/CIMG0017.jpg
Even a micro-brown can bring a smile! This was last summer on the Versoix river on the border of France and Switzerland, near Lake Geneva.
genevajim:
Yes, I even smiled when I looked at the smile on your face in the photo. It reminded me of many past successes that were successes for me only because I went home having landed at least one fish.
Thanks for the international comment!
Thanks AvidDavid…I haven’t done much better than that in Switzerland thus far, but like I did Sunday, I go out just to be on some pretty water. I did better last summer on the La Loue in France…pix here:
http://www.opentraveltech.com/petersweb/album/2005-07%20-%20Ornans%20and%20Le%20Loue/index.html