Brotherly Love

The more time that I spend on the water, the more I want to share my experiences with those around me. One of my brothers has lived in California for the last decade and more. It's crazy for me to think about how many times that I've run up to the Farmington River since then, yet he'd still never fished there. So when the stars and moon aligned during his most recent visit home, we jumped at the chance to get him fly fishing. 

You could tell it was a weekday when we arrived to a popular stretch after 7 AM and there wasn't another soul around. It was already warm out and the cold river was cloaked in a morning fog. It had been well over a month since my last trip and everything was much more lush and greener than I'd last remembered it. The trout's primary food source and feeding patterns had changed as well. First, we took a sample of the stream bottom with a seine net to see what was on the menu. The predominant insect found was a fast-swimming mayfly nymph known as the isonychia. An appropriate match was tied on, along with a heavier golden stonefly as an anchor, and I began to teach my brother a little about nymphing for trout. 

The next few hours flew by, but not before leaving their mark. The fishing was tough, but Gavin caught on quickly and was making very good drifts in short order. After getting his bearings in a fast, thigh-high riffle, we moved to the head of a small pool that was running slower and clear. I scaled back his tippet size and put on a lighter anchor fly. The initial pass came tight and quickly went slack, yet not before he felt his first trout on a fly rod. Then a few drifts later, Gavin latched on to one that gave him an idea of what big Farmington browns are all about. It made a b-line downstream, gave a few violent head-shakes before biting him off--all in about four Mississippi's. Hooking a fish of that caliber alone is a small milestone for an introductory trip, so we were both a little psyched and pissed in the same breath. I knew we may not see another chance like that so I beat myself up until I remembered why we were truly there. We  kept moving so he could see more of this wild & scenic river that many of us take for granted. 

Photo credit: Gavin Broatch

Photo credit: Gavin Broatch

The tough fishing continued at the next two stops, although a small rainbow and brown trout came to the hand during instruction. Gavin would eventually hook and land his first fish on a fly, albeit not the target species--it was a lively Atlantic salmon parr. Not the least bothered by the lack of our success, we soaked in every bit of our time on the river. The air was extremely warm by quitting time, but the water kept us cool and revealed the leaks in each of our waders! On the way home, we stopped at a favorite hot dog joint for a pickup order and ate a great lunch with the family to round out the day. It soon dawned on me that it would be at least another year, God-willing, before my brother and I would fish together again. Nonetheless, it was a day well spent and an experience that either of us won't soon forget! 



Good times.