A Little Brownage

**Lone Wulff** · 10-30-2011, 11:09 AM

I found the time to head out to my favorite brown trout stream one last time before the water turned too cold for wet wading. I won’t make this hike in waders. Between busting through brush and briars on the hike in, and crawling over rocks once on the water, they wouldn’t survive the journey. Goretex doesn’t grow back. Skin and flesh will.

Although slightly past prime, the foliage was still pretty nice.

The fishing wasn’t bad either. I started off with a heavily weighted nymph and pulled a small brown from a scenic location – a deep pool at the base of a small waterfall.

Upstream the water consisted of shallow runs and pockets, so I switched to a dry/dropper combination. The fish were reasonably cooperative, and steadily got bigger.

I eventually arrived at a long, deep, gentle run. It had a sandy bottom which is unusual for this stream. As I slunk along the bank, I noticed a couple of fish wallowing in the current. They were only about six inches long. Size wise they weren’t “must have” fish, but since they were there, and so was I, I tried for them. After all, a fish is a fish right? I made a couple casts upstream and let my flies drift back down to where they were holding. They quickly went into hiding. On the next cast, the dry dipped under. I fooled one of those little guys, I thought. As I lifted my rod, something stronger than anticipated pulled back. I don’t know where it was holding. The section it came from is about five or six feet deep and has a sandy bottom. Aside from a single log that extends from the bank perpendicular to the current, there isn’t much cover.

It fought more like a rainbow as it raced up and down the run. In the process, it jumped several times. Each time it launched into the air I could see that it was sporting prime fall colors. With every quivering jump, I realized it could be the nicest fish of the day. But with each frantic leap, I found myself holding my breath in anticipation of an early departure that would leave me in a state of disbelief and disappointment.

Luckily, this was one of those times when everything worked in my favor. Slowly, I moved down stream to a shallow area. As the fish tired, I was able to lead it into the quiet water and bring it to hand. I was in awe at the color of this 12 inch fish. I don’t know that I had ever seen a brown so brilliantly colored. I was amazed.

Upstream is a plunge pool that funnels into the run I had just fished. It is deep and turbulent.

I made several casts with the dry-dropper, but didn’t draw a strike. I wasn’t adequately probing the depths so I decided to take a break, eat lunch, and change flies while I rested the water. I tied on a weighted nymph and added an indicator.

I made numerous casts to the head of the pool without detecting a strike as I dissected the water and dredged the depths. It was difficult to track the indicator as it got pulled under by the conflicting currents. On one cast the indicator didn’t float back to the surface as it neared the tail out. I lifted my rod, and once again, I was connected to another nice fish. It swam through the channel at the tail of the pool and raced down stream. I chased after it. Like the prior battle, this one also worked out in my favor. Another nice fish, similar in size to the last:

A few more browns were landed before calling it quits on this fine, fall day – a day with no regrets and no disappointments.