And so it was yesterday at the Farmington. Many, many anglers were out. Every pull-out was filled with multiple cars, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen it busier. It was a good day on which to end cabin fever, and many of us picked the same day to do so.
I didn’t get my usual early start at the river but had a favorite stretch to myself for a bit. Fortunately, I soon caught a rainbow, even though I was in the permanent TMA section and very far from the newly-stocked areas. I didn’t take a photo of it because, well, I’m sure you know what a stockie rainbow looks like. I had a second one on ever so briefly.
An older guy was on the other side of the river, and I think he saw me with fish on. I kept busy swinging wet flies, and soon, I saw him on my side of the river, and he parked himself right in front of where my flies were swinging. I recognized him. On my last Farmington trip, I was there at the same spot, and he again was on the other side and again saw me get some takes.
I said hello to him and decided to play nice. I felt annoyed, but I figured if someone was that desperate to ping fish, then he is free to embarrass himself, and I’ll just play it cool. It also was too easy to let someone ruin your fishing day.
I switched to indicator nymphing since this guy was now in my way, and I moved down below him.
I was at that stretch because I wanted to try some new flies on the wily TMA browns that I know lie in that particular run. Unfortunately, the flies didn’t work. Neither did the old reliables.
Trout can be such a mystery at times. Did someone fish that stretch before me? Was the higher water from the prior day’s rain a factor? Were the bait-fishing guys near me drawing away the fish? It’s hard to know, but with the water at 40 °F, I thought I’d get more attention.
The older guy landed two fish, and I was impressed. With that, he politely said goodbye and good luck. I kept working that area but couldn’t get any more takes and decided to jump in the car.
I drove by other areas, but the pull-outs were jammed with cars. So, I headed well south of the TMA to two other areas and fished them, only to find the same drought.
Soon, the usual siren song, called “household chores,” beckoned me again, and I headed home. Time on the river is always time well-spent, IMO. Some days are full of fish, whilst others are not. You never know what you’ll find when you get to the river, but I think that’s part of the fun.
But, I go back, time and time again, to feel that familiar tug of current going by my legs, to hear again the calming sound of moving water, and to see, on occasion, a salmonid at the end of my life, and all that brings such joy and elation each and every time.
Hope you’re having a great weekend….