Brook Trout. North Fork, Mormons River. Tricked him with a size 14 Royal Wolff on a 3-weight.
Fall.
Fall is great. The weather is cool, the leaves pop off like a Ke$ha show, pumpkin gets infused into everything, Christmas is just around the corner. The list goes on. Although I have nearly run over people, literally, on a couple pre-work jogs in the dark – they would have been fine, I don’t go that fast – the fall season is one I look forward to, not just due to the reasons stated a second ago, but because of something I like to call Delayed Harvest. Ok, everyone calls it that, but that doesn’t change anything.
Delayed Harvest is a trout stocking program that restricts streams and rivers to artificial lures and catch and release only from October through May-ish, when the water is sufficiently cold enough to support a healthy trout habitat. These types of restrictions give fly fishermen, and sport fishermen in general, a leg up on the angling competition by keeping the fish in the river during prime conditions. Most states on the Atlantic have some sort of Delayed Harvest program that varies in dates depending on water temperature and how much the water gets fished. During the summer months here in central Virginia, it gets TOO DAMN HOT for trout to survive through July and August – it’s pretty tough for us humans, also – so after the specified date, you can keep a daily limit.
I have been obsessed with fishing as of late; my jones being stoked by numerous sources, but obviously the internet has a lot to do with it – that internet is crazy. Fly fishing videos have been pouring into the ether like ski porn in the 00’s or regular porn in the 90’s, and it is good. Finally, some fishermen have put down the rod for a hot second to film some bros catching pigs in HD. This is what time it is, so get on board.
Unfortunately, we’re two weeks into the season and I have yet to wet a line. Disappointing? Yes. Pathetic? Yes. Soul Crushing? …Almost.
I love trout fishing, like, a lot, but I did get some great smallie fishing in this summer. Nothing beats chucking big poppers with a 7-weight in a big river. Smallmouth bass act very similar to big brown trout: coming up from deep pools, a deceptively small strike/slurp, and big runs to go with their big girth. Plus you can splash around in warm water, which is nice. But warm water fish are pretty dumb, and easy to fool. Trout, even stocked trout, are much more discerning when considering their next meal. This is the art and beauty of fly fishing, why we make it so hard on ourselves, and why it is such and all-consuming endeavor.
And all-consuming is what it is. When I lived out West, I took for granted the ability to walk out my door and fish perfect waters year-round. So that’s what I would do: fish all the time. Now, I find myself watching fish-porn, reading fishing memoirs and tying flys. These are things I have never done, but they get me into fishing without actually fishing. This is the type of behavior that comes with any outdoor activity or sport when you either 1) get old or 2) change your lifestyle, or 3) both.
The silver lining of this predicament is it gives you more time to concentrate on the craft and not the relentless action. Tying flies, tuning bikes, waxing skis, studying maps and route finding; these are all valuable skills that will enhance your knowledge over time. I’m beginning to think this is why all the old-timers have so much wisdom: they did a lot, but they also sat around and thought about it a lot when they couldn’t do it everyday like they used to – HEY! still talking about outdoor recreation here, bub, so get your head out of the gutter.
Anyway, I’ll get out there and fish those wily trout soon, but in the mean time I’ll be wisdom-building at my desk with a vice and a computer. It’s not what you think.
