The regular trout season in New Hampshire ended on Oct. 15 as it does annually. So what does an avid angler do in this case? Well there are still a few places open for fishing in our Granite State, especially if you are a fly fisherman. Some of the specially designated spots are catch and release only but many ponds have open seasons year round.
One of the reasons why I am still champing at the bit to fish is that I injured my knee at the end of June this year. So although I was able to hobble around with a knee brace, I wasn’t able to wade the rivers to fish or even get into a wobbly boat without risking re-injuring my knee. I have been back in my boat for a month now, but wading is out until next year. The knee is coming along fine, by the way.
The other reason why I am eager to keep fishing late into the fall is that trout, especially the browns and the brookies are spawning. This reproductive urge includes a heightened aggressiveness to attack a fly that wanders into their vicinity. I have also heard that the cooler weather instills a need to feed before the fish enter into their semi-hibernation state in the winter months. I have found in the past that a couple of below freezing nights, even in early September creates conditions that cause trout, even rainbows, which spawn in the springtime, to feed aggressively and thus trout become less cautious in their feeding habits.
About a decade ago on Veterans Day, I was wading the fly fishing section of the Sugar River in Kelleyville, when I swung a Golden Demon in front of a newly downed hemlock, its deep green top scratching at the water, creating a new potential trout lie, when bam, a purple and red spotted brown trout, dared to leave its new found hiding spot to engorge my offering. The spawning and probably migrating brown was a beautiful full bellied specimen, but only about fourteen inches long. As the brown trout ages, growing longer, it becomes known as butter or colloquially as “Buddah,” denoting the golden yellow belly an angler sees as the fish rolls on their line, which alerts you to kind of trout you are fighting. Spawning trout mimic the colors of the autumn foliage which is reflected in an intensified flourish of yellow, crimson and orange.
This year I have been fishing a trout pond an hour north of my home. Frank, one of my fishing buddies joined me one day last week. As we launched the boat into the pond’s autumn splendor, a sharp northerly wind bit into my face. Frank remarked that it was a beautiful day, I responded, “I don’t know, it’s too early to tell yet.” As we began our circuit around the pond, I fought to keep the boat on course due to the steady breeze, while Frank began to operate on his fly reel which he discovered had a loose knob and no apparent drag. He finally repaired the handle, but the drag still would not work. Frank usually buys his fishing gear at yard sales and he prides himself on the good deals he finds. I thought, hopefully he won’t tie into a big trout because his chances of landing it would be slim and he would just end up being disappointed.
Coming back down the pond the wind helped to scurry the boat along but blew us a little closer to the shore than I had intended. Frank’s line was closest to the shoreline. Luckily, he was using only a sink tip line which doesn’t go as deep as the full sink style of line I was trolling. Suddenly Frank’s rod bent, drastically. “I’ve snagged bottom!” he yelled. I looked up and saw his rod begin to shake, “No it’s a fish!” I said. He felt the enormous tug of the head shake and replied, “Yes, and it’s a big one.” I quickly retrieved my line to clear a path for him to fight his fish. We still had gusts of wing buffeting the boat and it started to spin due to the dwindling battery powering the electric trolling motor. I hadn’t noticed the drop in power as we trolled south because of the wind helping to push the boat along. I certainly didn’t have time to change to the second fresh battery at that moment, so we would have to make do.
Frankie’s reel sang out as the trout bolted away from the boat due to the lack of drag. He started to pinch the line with his fingers to slow the fish in the manner of Ted Williams, Boston Red Sox player and avid fisherman. Ted used to fight his fish in this way because he always used inexpensive Sears Roebuck, which he endorsed. William’s felt that if he was putting his name on the tackle, he was obligated to actually use it. The Sears fly reels did not have good drag mechanisms but were affordable for the average angler, especially kids.
I recall watching the old outdoor show, “The Fishin’ Hole” hosted by Jerry McKinnis back in the late eighties when he and Ted Williams traveled to the Kamchatka Peninsula in Russian to fish for salmon. William’s tagged into a giant fish with his Sears and Roebuck endorsed gear with the lousy drag while McKinnis chided him lightheartedly about bringing cheap equipment to Russia to fish with. Williams explained in his surely manner that his name was on this gear and that he stood by it. He pinched his line to produce drag and finally landed the huge salmon, which astounded his fishing buddy and the viewing audience.
By this time, the fish had taken Frank’s fly line down to the backing, but the depleted battery held up and we managed to chase the fish which allowed Frank to retrieve his line by hand while yards of fly line and backing piled onto the floor of the boat creating what looked like a nice comfy abode for any self-respecting rodent. Floating fly line untangles rather easily but the backing does not. The fish was still fighting deep, but near the boat, if the fish runs again, I thought, we’ll lose it, the Ted William’s style of drag or not. Finally the fish surfaced. “Buddah!” the golden belly of a big brown trout flashed at us. The tired trout netted easily; it was Frank’s biggest brown of his life, measuring seventeen inches. Nice going Ted, I mean Frank.
Credit: Source link
