Last year I fished the last 100 feet or so of a tiny mountain brook where it emptied into a larger river. In that 100 feet I caught about a half-dozen small brookies.
So, after passing up a couple of possible places for the day because of low water, I decided to give this brook a shot.
Some people refer to fishing in mountain streams as 'rock hopping'. There was no hopping going on here. This was rock climbing. In many places I had to place my rod above me on a rock and climb up after it.
As I got higher, it got steeper.
And steeper. Back home I looked at where I'd been on a topo map. In the 1/4 mile I fished, it gained 700 feet of altitude.
You can see there's not much water here - just like most places this year. Each small plunge pool in the pictures held trout, though. Usually more than one in each pool. They ranged from extremely tiny to about 7".
This was a very pretty one, but didn't want to have his picture taken. One flip of its tail and off it went.
When I was done, the walk back down was not fun. I've rarely been in a woods that was so hard to walk through. It seemed like every inch was crashing through trees and brush of some kind. I didn't like the idea of descending along the stream. Going up a place like that is, for me anyway, easier than going down. I'm less likely to slip and fall while climbing than I am while descending.
So, after passing up a couple of possible places for the day because of low water, I decided to give this brook a shot.
Some people refer to fishing in mountain streams as 'rock hopping'. There was no hopping going on here. This was rock climbing. In many places I had to place my rod above me on a rock and climb up after it.
As I got higher, it got steeper.
And steeper. Back home I looked at where I'd been on a topo map. In the 1/4 mile I fished, it gained 700 feet of altitude.
You can see there's not much water here - just like most places this year. Each small plunge pool in the pictures held trout, though. Usually more than one in each pool. They ranged from extremely tiny to about 7".
This was a very pretty one, but didn't want to have his picture taken. One flip of its tail and off it went.
When I was done, the walk back down was not fun. I've rarely been in a woods that was so hard to walk through. It seemed like every inch was crashing through trees and brush of some kind. I didn't like the idea of descending along the stream. Going up a place like that is, for me anyway, easier than going down. I'm less likely to slip and fall while climbing than I am while descending.
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