I found myself stranded in suburban Connecticut with no car, no place to stay, and a couple pieces of clothing to my name. I sent a couple texts to my fishing buddies in the area to see if anyone had a bed I could crash on. Within a couple of hours, Scott picked me up and we were headed to what he claimed to be one of the coolest native brook trout streams he had ever fished. While Scott blabbered on about how “utterly insane” the fishing is at this mystery stream, I was not getting my hopes up. We were headed to another suburban town that is known more for its celebrity residents than its fishing. Even though I thought Scott was full of it, I was ready for another adventure and happy to not be homeless.
We finally arrived at the stream, I picked up the camera and crossed my fingers as Scott searched for rising fish. When Scott tied on a grasshopper that was big enough to feed a rabbit, I began to lose more hope. Walking deeper into the forest, it began to feel more and more like we were in the rainforest. While it was really cool to film I kept asking myself how it was possible that native brook trout lived in this suburban rainforest stream. After a couple hours of nothing, it happened. Watching from the screen on the camera, I saw a trout sip Scott’s hopper as if we were fishing for big browns in Montana. He looked back at me and the only words he could come up with were, “it’s the nice one.” Scott pulled out one of the nicest native brook trouts I had ever seen. In less than 12 hours, I went from being homeless to going on one of the most fun fishing adventures ever. That’s what this sport is all about!
12 Inches of Wild Brookie, gives me the goose bumps…
Nothing Like celebrating a wild fish with a Pale Ale… Thanks Dale!
