Surely I’m not the only fisherman that visits other rivers, sometimes not so close to where I live, in order to test my skills and catch fish on another river I’m mostly unfamiliar with. Exploration of new water and the possibility of success on it can be a tremendous pull for a fisherman, and I’ve certainly fallen victim to the desire to conquer new rivers, all in the pursuit of fishing glory.
Is it merely a chance to say in passing conversation with other anglers, “Yeah, I’ve done pretty well there …”? In fact, it still happens to me to this day.
Does it make one appear to be more worldly in their angling exploits when in a group of anglers? Is it the fishing equivalent of a peak bagger in the hiking world? Who knows, but there is something to this phenomenon, and while there have been some memorable days on other rivers, I’ve also had my share of frustrating ones on these foreign bodies of water.
While the application of what has been learned on one body of water can sometimes be applied elsewhere, there are often differences between watersheds that draw a dividing line between them. Occasionally, the resident bait fish population may be a different species, thereby requiring different fly patterns. Sometimes stoneflies are a more important food source than mayflies or caddis – another adjustment of fly patterns you might consider using. Maybe the fish are especially spooky, refusing any offering on anything larger than 6x tippet, etc.
You get my point – things might be one way here where you’re used to fishing, and completely different over there … Certainly, learning new water and being successful on it can be incredibly satisfying, but that can take a looooong time.
To illustrate my point, yesterday a friend and I took the annual journey to a river in neighboring Vermont that I usually fish once or twice a year. Enough to be familiar with it, but probably not enough to know how and where exactly to fish it. In the midst of our travels, a friendly warden recommended that we check out another nearby river that we had never fished (just read about) where the fishing was “good”.
There were probably fish there, as the water conditions looked good enough, and I’m not questioning the advice we received from the conservation officer, but we never felt the tug from any lurking trout. While it was good to check out this new water, it was fruitless, and we returned to the upper Connecticut River, our “home water”, with enough time to salvage what was left of the day.
The Connecticut did not disappoint, as I felt the definitive tug from five or six of our resident trout before the sun disappeared, reaffirming some belief in my angling skills, at least for the moment. While I know a lot about the water here, there’s always more to learn and more secrets to uncover. It’s a never-ending process, and this process of discovery, even when its my “home water”, could take a lifetime.
After over twenty-five years of wading, floating and fishing the Connecticut (from Pittsburg to the reaches below Stratford, N.H.), I have a certain “familiarity” with it. It’s a comfort, really. After so many years, you get to know some spots, even a few where other anglers don’t go very often, and you start to figure out where the fish are holding in some of these places. Never mind the effects of weather and river flows out of each of the dams of the Connecticut Lakes – as with all rivers, the flows play a big part in what’s happening with the trout and salmon.
There’s plenty more to be learned right here on my home water, so the process of discovery goes on. Maybe the next time I get the urge to go explore another river, I’ll just stay here, on the Connecticut.
Hendrickson
May 17, 2018 — 2:30 pm
A very thoughtful post, Tom. I was reminded of this writer and these words:
“Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world’s great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.”
“I am haunted by waters.” (Norman Maclean)
…and under some or the rocks — and in the air, when a wandering caddis fly lands on your shoulder — are the secrets of the water.