After getting the basics of tenkara down, I started venturing away from my usual spots along the creeks that run through the town where I live. I wanted to explore more waters and try to catch new species. Doing some research I found mention of a creek in the area that was said to hold brook trout.
The next free afternoon I had, I packed my gear and set out into the mountains. The drive brought me to an area I was somewhat familiar with, but then heading north from there took me further away from that familiarity. The forest became more and more dense with evergreens lining the highway. The road I would take to get to the creek crept up on me, as it looked like nothing more than just a service road that would take you to nowhere in particular. It was a steep dirt road that ran along the hillside with loose rocks littering the way. After a couple miles and a few sharp turns I arrived at a small turnout next to the creek.
Without knowing much of the creek or the terrain I grabbed my pack and made a few casts before setting out to explore. The creek was skinny, just a little too wide to jump across, but much smaller than the ones that run through town. There were small pools separated by stretches of riffles. Pine trees populated the banks with low hanging branches making it hard to cast. After weaving my way upstream for a while I came to a meadow.
Everything seemed to open up. The trees that crowded the banks now created a border around the meadow. Bushes and tall grass line the sides of gin-clear pools. Further upstream, a few fallen trees created crossing points at areas that are just a little too wide to jump across. This was the change in terrain that I was looking for. A new challenge while in pursuit of my first brook trout.
I worked my way upstream, casting into spots that I thought would hold fish. A few casts into the flows got no bites. A few casts into a pocket that lined a stretch of riffles only caught the tall grass that leaned over the bank. There was some frustration building with trying to figure out how to fish this narrow creek, especially since it didn’t seem there were any fish hiding anywhere in it. Further up stream I came to a narrow, slow moving pool. I walked up closer to the bank and just as I peeked over the tall grass I could see a fish dart off under a bank. At least now I knew there were fish!
Moving up to the next pool I took a more stealthy approach as I moved into a spot to make a cast. From further back, I peered over the grass to see the marbled yellow backs of a few brook trout holding in the slow-moving current. I tried to keep my excitement from getting the best of me as I made my first cast. In my mind I planned for a gentle cast where the kebari would land softly on the water right in the line of sight of one of these holding brookies. While the cast was what I wanted, it fell short and the fly tangled up in the grass at the water's edge. The fish were unphased though. Maybe if I could get the fly unstuck I would still have a shot at catching one. A few tugs with the rod shook the kebari free, but in doing so I scared off the fish that was furthest downstream. One still remained, I had one more chance!
My excitement had gotten the best of me at this point, and mixed with a little frustration from getting the fly stuck, my next cast came off far different from what I had envisioned. The line and fly hit the water with a bit more of a splash than the fish would tolerate, and off it went under a submerged log.
As I moved upstream in search of a new spot I was going over everything in my head. I knew what kind of water they were holding in - they liked the slow moving pools. I knew how I needed to approach them - low and slow. I knew how I should cast to them - a lofty loop to land the fly first, without too much force. I just needed to put it all together now and not mess up the execution, and I needed to try to get it done as the sun was starting to move lower towards the ridgeline that made up the horizon.
I came to a slow-moving pool that was fed by a short run of riffles. It was a bit more shallow than the other two, but I figured a few casts wouldn’t hurt. I crossed over a log onto a shallow bank and slowly crept my way into range to make a cast. There was no grass lining the bank, but there was a large bush on the farside. It was just far enough to have a comfortable amount of room to make the cast.
The first cast was what I had wanted, and as the kebari gently made contact with the water, a quick splash disrupted the surface. It all happened so quickly, but I don’t recall anything actually grabbing the hook. “Maybe I have another shot” I thought to myself as I waited to make the next cast. The line extended out with a backcast, and again gently lowered onto the water with the forward cast. Another splash up top followed by a slight movement upward with the rod tip and I could feel the movement of a fish on the end of the line!
A few seconds later I had my first brook trout in hand. A small catch, but I was enamored by the beauty of the markings. After a quick picture, I removed the hook and set it back in the water.
I took a moment to appreciate my surroundings, and to revel in my small success before I spooled up my line and collapsed my rod for the walk out. There was an almost surreal feeling as I made my way back to the car. With the sun starting to flood the meadow with a golden hue that made the tall grass seem to glow, I reflected on my experience as I made my way back to the car. I was beyond excited to have accomplished what I set out to do. I felt a sense of pride for having driven to an area I wasn’t at all familiar with in search of a species I hadn’t caught, and for having fished through the frustration and learning curve of tackling new waters. Fishing was becoming more and more fun.
On my drive home an idea popped up in my head. I had been blowing up my friends’ social media feed all summer with pictures of little fish. Nobody had complained, but it crossed my mind that there was a community that might be more receptive to those pictures. Maybe it was time to create an account to document the experiences that tenkara was providing. The experience had in the meadow that day inspired me to create something more, and this little brook trout was the catalyst behind it all.
-Martin
I still return to the meadow on occasion. You can read about another experience on the Tenkara Angler website.
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