Like Norman in A River Runs Through It, I too am “haunted
by waters”. More specifically, waters with large Brown trout in
them. What can I say; it’s just that time of year. Most
Americans associate October with pumpkins, falling leaves,
ghouls and goblins and shortening days. Me and other fly
fisherman here in the Rockies think of orange and ochre
colored Brown Trout; angry fish with sex on their mind and a
predisposition to smack a streamer.
Lately I’ve been working some cold, trout-infested water
with streamers in hopes of hooking a true beast. It happened
to my friend Jeromie last week on his last cast of the day;
monster hammers streamer, fight ensues, fish pops off just
before being brought to hand, just after jumping out of the
water to show us how big it was. I had my chance too a few
days ago when a ravenous, kype-jawed brown smashed my
streamer within sight. This scared the bejesus out of me,
causing me to miss the hook-set (hey, when you haven’t
gotten so much as a bump in 2 hours of casting, it’s only
natural).
The following day I got more serious, taking two rods to
the water with me; one rigged with a streamer and one with a
floating line, double nymph rig. This determination paid off. I
landed two beautiful Rainbows and hooked a few nice browns.
Any other outing, this would be considered great. The problem
is that when you come face to face with Moby Dick, nothing but
the White Whale will do. And after enduring gale force winds
and the need to get back to the old dog, I surrendered,
admitting defeat for the day.
Now, each minute I spend off the water is another minute
obsessing about the fish that are on the fall migration. I tie
more streamers, adding more marabou, more rabbit, more
rubber legs and other materials that’ll add even more
movement to flashy patterns and (in my hopeful mind) entices
a shark attack. Time will tell and hopefully later this week I’ll
get to test my new creations, coming face to face with my
white whale.
Preparing for a cold day of October Brown trout
fishing….
