As I stepped into the creek I noticed a block of ice on the opposite bank. Even though I knew it was a block of ice I asked myself, "What is it? Why is it there?" I pondered for several minutes what kind of conditions would have had to have existed here in the last month or so for a block of ice that big to be that high up on the bank.
I looked at myself and asked, "Who am I? Why am I here?". The answer was clear. My name is Eddie Rivard and I am here to try and catch some trout. If that goes well I will commemorate the experience by writing a blog post noting every detail.
Access barriers like the ones I described in the previous paragraph are things that I embrace because they generally keep other more timid anglers out which gives me full reign to exploit the resource as I see fit.
I've been here a few times before but never in the winter. I had many streams to choose from but the proverbial dowsing rod in my mind eventually led me to choose this as my fishing spot for the day. I was armed with my 5 weight that I had pre-rigged with a size 18 Pheasant Tail Nymph before leaving my house. I eventually added a midge dropper but they first three runs I fished resulted in zero takers. I was fine with that because I wasn't here to fish the runs. I had probably lost a few minutes of sleep the night before pondering the propensity of the trout the existed in deeper holes on this stream during the winter months in which they are primarily referred to as wintering holes. Big trout will generally migrate to the headwaters sections of streams in the fall to spawn and then they will remain in the nearby deeper holes during the winter before dispersing throughout the system in late spring. Anybody that's read Preston Sealon's paper on, " The Dynamics of Stream Trout Migrations through the Seasons in the Driftless", knows this as fact.
When I finally made it to one of my dream holes my heart beat with anticipation. I was delighted to see sporadic rises and although I couldn't see the fish the sound the rise made was louder than usual. My third cast with the nymph rig resulted in what felt like a snag and when I gave it a light tug the line quickly snapped. I couldn't tell if I had snapped the 5x tippet with my strength or if a larger fish had bolted the second it felt resistance.
I caught several more fish in that pool afterwards. There was about twenty minutes of action that rivaled some of the other times when I have had lights out fishing during my life.
Mystic Pool of Emerald Green
I look into you and start to dream
What big trout lurk on your bottom?
How many men wish they had caught em?
Thank you for keeping them just for me.
The E to the D and the D I E
Rope Swing, Rope Swing
Hanging from a tree
Oh how I'd like to swing from thee
Mallards in the Sky
Ducks Flying High
Quack, Quack, Quack
Quack, Quack, Quack