Having cleared all morning responsibilities from the schedule, I ventured to a well-known stretch of water to flex a 5-weight fly rod. I’ve been wanting to practice my fly casts for some time and late-winter is prime to do so with the Maryland Department of Natural Resources busily stocking the region’s trout waters. In trout fishing, the trick is to entice a bite and stockers usually take a few days to acclimate to their new water before exhibiting regular feeding patterns. Like any fish though, they can be wily and difficult to catch. Indeed, they are river rascals.
By 8:45 a.m., I completed the half-hour drive to the piece of Little Patuxent River I intended to fish. The plan was simple. Cast upstream and drift woolly buggers into holes and juicy looking water through the boulder/rock laden creek. I tied on a brown, bead-head bugger to start.
The skies were near 100 percent cloud cover, which is just about perfect in my estimation and especially helpful in extending the morning bite to lunchtime. Nevertheless, I wore polarized Costas (brown lenses) for eagle-eye vision below the surface. Even on a cloudy day, wear your polarized glasses. You’ll see so much more under the water. The air temperature was hovering around 40F, and the river felt equally chilly. DNR had actually stocked the area about two weeks prior with more than 1,000 golden and rainbow trout.
I hiked into my first spot and perched on a boulder sticking out of the river’s edge. My first casts were elementary and quite fruitless. I needed to re-acclimate to the motion of fly casting and get a feel for the entire outfit. In short time, my casts were rolling and hitting targets. But no trout seemed present. And then, a hit…
A feisty fish put a bend in the rod and lit up my morning. It felt on the small side and, sure enough, my suspicion that it was actually a fallfish was confirmed. Fallfish are excellent consolation prizes for the fly angler, especially in the skinny water that dots Central Maryland. In Virginia, the state has bequeathed the motto “Little Tarpon of the Commonwealth” to the small but mighty fallfish.
I continued moving upriver slowly with precision and gentle steps to several holes and other areas that appeared fruitful. I spotted a golden trout circling within a three-foot deep hole and casted multiple times ahead of it. The bugger would drift within range of the trout but went ignored. I moved on.
Just upriver, I scouted the water from the bank and spotted a trophy rainbow trout situated in the flow, facing upstream, just ahead of a stack of rock in only two feet of water. This trout would make the day if I could catch him. By my estimation, it was a 18–20 inch fish. But I had to be very stealthy moving in to make a cast. I took my time, I made my first cast. A bit off the mark, but within eyesight of the fish. Nada. Another, better cast. Nothing. I took some steps back and gently hunkered down on the bank to tie on a different colored bugger—white. Next cast I made, this fly drifted directly into the trout’s line. He looked and turned away, swimming left downriver about five yards and repositioned himself. I tried a black bugger. Not interested. I tied on a tiny bead-head nymph and let that drift around the trout. I spent one hour trying to get that fish to bite. But that rascal wouldn’t take!
I gave that ’bow a break and moved on. Every now and then, I could see a fallfish zipping like a lightning bolt between rocks in the river. I managed to catch a couple more of these consolation prizes. I came back and gave Mr. Trout one more round of casts, but to no avail. So, I called it, and retired for the day. All in all, a fun first fly outing this year. More will come. Hopefully the river rascals will be willing to play.
See y’all on the water again, real soon!
