Yep, we finally hit 40 degrees. It was a bit breezy and the sun was hazy. The birds were chirping and the roads were wet. I put on my hip boots and a tromping I went.
The fishing was rather tough. Several runs had finally shed their ice. The streams and rivers had gotten a ton of pressure this weekend as compared to weekends in the past. The first really nice warm day in what seems like a decade. Of coarse people were crawling out of their winter holes left and right. I made the best of it.
These warmer melting early spring trout trips are more for my soul than they are for my catching itch. Filling my lungs with fresh air and listening to the sound of new arriving birds is very humbling. The snow, on the other hand, is by no means and easy task. Mobility comes with a price. Sore legs and sweaty clothes. It is so worth every grueling step.
Trout can be a fish of many frustrations. I sat on a pool that was holding a ton of fish. After they
got sick of my spinner blowing by them I had to switch it up a bit. Pulled an old trick out of my pack. A beaded head wooly bugger with a cork strike indicator. The strike indicator must be cork, very important. The water is gin clear and fish spook easy. The cork is very natural and camouflages the indicator. Drift this rig along the current and you will pick up a few stragglers. Be patient with it and let the current do the work.
The snow is deep, but so is my drive. Fresh air is an amazing thing. Get yourself some. Get trout and about.