The Dog’s first wild brook trout and an unwanted hitchhiker | Trip Report
The Dog’s first wild brook trout…
I can be selfish with my fishing obsession. I disappear for entire days in pursuit of fish, yes, but also solitude. A little peace and quiet is always on my wish list.
But with The Dog and my partner both in need of some refreshing time in nature, we decided to take a Thursday off and head to my new favorite brook trout stream in New Jersey together (Editor’s note: My “partner” and I are engaged and soon-to-be-married, but I’ve never gotten used to saying “fiancee,” so I’m sticking with “partner” until we tie the knot).
My partner has joined me on many fishing trips over the years. Early in the pandemic, we regularly made morning trips to The Park to fish for largemouth, and she usually caught the bigger bass.
When The Dog arrived in late 2020, things got complicated. She was a six-month old stray who’d been found on the streets of The Bronx by some police officers who brought her to an ACC shelter. Her genes are a mad scientist’s brew of mostly Siberian husky and pit bull, with a few other breeds thrown in the mix for good fun.
We love her unconditionally. She has a huge personality and can be the sweetest, funniest dog you’ve ever met. But she also has a wild streak in her, along with an unquenchable prey drive. And she’s a flight risk. All of these things made it difficult to bring her fishing, especially because she incorrectly recognizes the rod and lure as one of her toys, wanting to grab onto the hooks with every cast.
Dog on a log…
Over time she’s improved, and we’ve brought her on smallmouth river wading trips. But today, I was hoping to get both my partner and The Dog their first wild brook trout.
The focus of our trip was the hike, but we squirreled away an hour or so for fishing. When we got to a choice spot on the stream, I handed over my fly rod to my partner and let her ply a few holes for her first brookie, while I stood back trying my best to secure The Dog.
My partner showed a knack for small-stream fishing and excelled more than me in certain areas immediately, notably in the form of patience, especially when freeing flies from trees. Better yet, The Dog showed considerable improvement in her fishing etiquette. Unfortunately the fish weren’t biting.
The Dog checks out the action…
Toward the end of our trip, we happened upon a beautiful hole where the current diverged around two big rocks, with a sliver of current coursing between them and a log jutting out from within.
After she fished it for a few minutes, she handed me the rod to take a try, fearing she’d spooked any trout in the area. I crouched as I approached the hole from the bank, ducking down behind a large border at the edge of the water. I pulled on the end of my hopper-dropper combo to give myself enough line, then popped a roll cast right under the log in between the rocks.
Moments later, my hopper plunged under the water. I hit it quickly and pulled out a beautiful brookie. My partner ran up to me, both of us smiling, and we let The Dog take a close look at the native trout in the net.
The first and only wild brook trout of the day…
In the past, she’s given a good look at (and even attempted to bite) smallmouth bass. But this time, she took a quick gaze, and then stepped into the stream to find a fish of her own.
All in all in was a rejuvenating trip, and one that has me dreaming of many more like it to come.
Another view of the brookie…
Unfortunately, the next day, almost exactly at the 24-hour mark, I found a tick on the back of the upper left arm. Given it was early March, the threat of ticks hadn’t even crossed my mind as I pushed through streamside brush. But this guy got me good. Consider it a lesson learned: the little bastards can get you even when you least expect it. All I can do now is monitor it, and hope a case of Lyme disease doesn’t put a damper my spring fishing plans.
SONG OF THE TRIP
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