Up Stream..Down Stream..Searsmont Pays Off

I was celebrating on a Tuesday afternoon for success on a Tuesday morning.
I’ve tried to keep a positive attitude this spring. Regardless of all the tribulations that I have perceived to be against me, the unfair forces of nature, the responsibilities of work, the chores of home and the increasing affinity to my recliner that overcome me more as I get older, I finally broke out of the 0 for whatever (whose counting?) run I’ve been going thru this spring, trying to catch a freaking brook trout.
On the spur of the moment, the lawn being too wet to mow and with clouds in the sky offering more rain,  I decided to gear up and head out to my brother-in-laws place in Searsmont. With all the water we’ve had raining down upon us in the last few weeks , chances where that the Q Stream would be high. And it was with water about 2 feet over it’s banks. With the lower part of his property basically a floodplain,  and with the convergence of said stream and another flow, it would be necessary to use my waders, and I just hate waders. Too confining , too cumbersome and just too much work with suspenders, boots and belts.  I would so much prefer to wet-wade but it has been just too chilly for these old bones.

I arrive at the Q-stream

Looking upstream…

with a totally in-appropriate wet fly that I last used but was too lazy to change out.  Maybe there was a dumb brookie that would fall for it? Not really..So after a considerable amount of futile casts, I start to notice that the trout are starting to rise.

Looking downstream…

And they are rising for the little black wing-ed buggers that are buzzing all about. Maybe I have something like them in my fly box?

One of my fly boxes…

As you can see I do have a fair amount of what I thought I needed, and after a few casts, a strike. But this one dropped off as I was reaching for my net. However my waning enthusiasm for fly fishing immediately received a large boost.
With my excitement building, I cast the black beauty up stream and let it drift down with the current..and as Emeril says..
BAM!
With my ultralite bending and straining under the load of the behemoth at the end of its line, I nurse to my net what would turn out to be my first catch of this year.

It’s a wonderful thing…

Within the hour, more hits and another brookie brought to hand.

(Poor photos as I discovered that my camera was on the wrong setting)

And then it’s over. The little black flies disappear and so do my brookies.
Such is the nature of trout fishing I guess.
Anyways I’m psyched to get back out there when the water level drops a bit and more bugs break out..just like I did.