The best brook trout are found under POSTED signs | Trip Report
The best brookie I’ve caught from this stream to date…
All morning long, throughout my early-hour prep, hours-long drive and ensuing hike, the vibes were strong.
With a Monday off from work, temperatures pushing 60 F and hours of fishing in the woods ahead of me, my positive outlook seemed impenetrable as I started casting into the first few riffles and holes in what is fast-becoming my go-to wild brook trout spot in New Jersey.
At first nothing was biting, but I continued working my way slowly and quietly upstream, confident my luck would turn at the next bend and ultimately unbothered if it never did.
It was enough to enjoy this beautiful place, a tiny slice of the wild cordoned off from the encroaching developed world.
More cordoned off than I would like.
Forty minutes into my session, I reached the point I knew was coming. Only 500 yards or so from my starting place, a park boundary sign declared the end of my journey upstream on one side of the river, echoed with more severe declarations on the other bank in the form of an army of orange “POSTED: Private Property, No Trespassing” signs.
The offending POSTED signs in question pictured on a previous trip.
Even though I’ve come to know this stream well and have become all too familiar with these particular signs, it’s still a jarring experience whenever I see them.
Put aside the fact that these POSTED signs block off at least a mile of undeveloped stream full of brook trout from anyone but the landowner, they can ruin a mood faster than just about anything.
Just the sight of them can sour a beautiful day, inciting feelings of frustration, anger and some vague form of helplessness.
They also act as an unwelcome human intrusion in wild, beautiful places, not just in the Northeast, but across the country.
American anglers far and wide know this dilemma all too well.
I don’t deny the necessity for private property and, in many cases, the need to keep people off of said property. But, in my opinion, the amount of land and water cut off from responsible public use in the U.S. is untenable and getting worse.
And I just hate those damn signs.
But while I let them invade my thoughts and disrupt my tranquility briefly on this day, I wasn't about to let them ruin it completely.
The final hole I was allowed to fish stretched less than 10 feet across. On one side, a shallow rocky area with a POSTED sign looming over it. On the other, a plunging run under the overhanging tree that hosted the park boundary sign.
The park boundary sign…
And waiting for me there, hungry and willing to take my nymph, was a stunning 10-inch wild brookie, the biggest and most beautiful I’d caught on that stream to date.
A native New Jersey stunner…
Afterward, I turned around and walked far downstream, then worked my way back up fishing every good-looking hole I came across.
The higher the sun and the temperatures rose, the more the fish starting biting, and I brought a few more to hand over the next hour or so.
This extra-yellowy guy crushed the hopper…
The juveniles were hungry too…
Another beauty…
Then it was back to the car, and eventually back to the city, grateful for my run-in with a treasure of a trout, but still miffed and a little disillusioned by my other run-in.
SONG OF THE TRIP
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