Our friends Vincent and Claire had just bought a new tent and were keen to try it out. Having never taken Lucas camping they figured it would be good to stay close to home in case things went south. We also had never taken Pierce camping so it also seemed like a good idea for us. Natalya was up visiting her grandparents in Grand Marais.
We wanted to combine a few things like a pleasant campground and some trout fishing so Forestville State Park was a natural pick. The park is along the Root River (south branch) and this stream just happens to have a good trico hatch at this time of year. This is a substantial hatch and one I've been wanting to fish for several years but never gotten around to.
Jessica had to work so we didn't get to leave until well after I'd planned so when we got there the Leonard/Repellin's had almost set their tent up and gotten their camp organized. It was a fantastic Saturday afternoon with no clouds in the sky, a touch of fall crispness and no humidity to speak of. The campsites were shaded and pretty well separated from one another. There was the early signs of fall filtering into the woods but the trees were yet to begin turning. The squirrels were very active and vocal so they must have been aware of the passing of the season.
After setting up and relaxing for a while we cooked up a camp feast and sat around the campfire for a relaxed and very enjoyable evening. We had s'mores and chatted away well into the night. Lucas and Pierce both seemed to be really enjoying themselves and it was great to have no mosquitoes to bother us.
From what I'd heard the best of the trico hatch occurs downstream of the park towards the town of Preston and the dunns come off around four in the morning and the spinner fall occurs around first light. We had a late night (and I wouldn't change that for a few trout) so the idea of getting up super early for the chance to fish a hatch I'd never even seen before wasn't too appealing so we slept in a bit.
The night was tailor made for camping and was cool, clear and crisp. Cool enough you stayed close to the campfire and snuggled up in your sleeping bag, but not so cold you just didn't want to leave the sleeping bag when it was time to get up in the morning. It was beanie weather in the morning and you could see your breath and the steam rising from the morning coffee.
As I (almost) always do I got up pretty early and played the guitar quietly as I waited for the rest of the camp to stir. Claire awoke fairly early as well while the others resisted the pull of the day. It was quite late when Vincent awoke and we finally headed down to the stream by the campground with our flyrods and I didn't have much hope for success. The pools looked good but they see more than their fair share of crawlers, spinners and flies. However, it didn't take long before we noticed swarms of insects at the head of some of the upstream pools. It was tricos and there was millions of them. Perhaps because of the unseasonably cold evening they were late coming off but it was quite a spectacle to see. There was sporadic rises but the fish weren't keyed in on the hatch. Vincent and I fished hard but to no avail.
From what I'd read that wasn't unusual and our observations in the stream agreed with it. The fish were all sitting and waiting in the tailouts. They were just waiting for the spinner fall so they could sip the dead bugs as they floated by. Why would they waste energy now when they could wait a few minutes and feast? Almost as the textbooks say, the rises started as I began to see the spinners floating down past me. It was as though someone through a switch and turned the fish on.
Not that the fishing was easy. The fish have seen a fly or two and they were in the silky smooth waters of the tailouts, so they did have an advantage. Even when feeding on a natural you could watch the fish slowly rise, carefully scrutinize it and then casually sip it down. I watched trout refuse naturals for not looking "natural" enough. Also, these educated fish would spook easily. It just took a shadow or fast waving flyrod or fly pulled tight in the current and the fish would sulk down to the bottom and sit there. Even though fish were feeding all around us and there were hundreds of fish visible in the clear water the fishing was tough and technical. I was fishing with a leader of about 12 feet with 7X tippet and two size 22 trico spinners. The point fly was a natural tie while the top fly was tied with a bright pink parachute to give me some idea where my flies were. The only way I found possible to succeed was to target an individual fish. Still, I only got three of four fish and none were particualrly large (probably ten inches at best). There were some bigger fish around though. The fish would regularly sip down my flies but they were so casually sipping it was hard to get a good hookset on them. Still, it was rewarding and now I can say I've fished the famous Root River trico hatch.
After a relaxing lunch we went through the routine of pulling down the camp and packing up. We ended the trip with some ice cream in Rochester making a perfect end to a great little camping trip, something we'll have to do again soon.
The two camp sites in the woods
The Wilkes' campsite
The trico hatch
The Root River
Vincent working a pool
Lucas and Pierce just hanging out
Claire and Lucas relaxing
Mummy and Pierce bonding
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment