If trout could talk, and I know I’m stretching my imagination – and yours – a bit perhaps, but use your imagination and please play along. This goes way back to the days of my youth (that phrase always reminds me of the song “Good Times, Bad Times” from Led Zeppelin I, but I promise not to digress anymore), when as a boy of seven or eight, my brother, Larry, and I were reading my dad’s copy of To Hell With Fishing, 1945, by Ed Zern and H. T. Webster. To Hell With Fishing was illustrated with cartoons by H. T. Webster, all good ones that spoof and poke fun at fly fishing and related situations and circumstances. I read that book and looked at the pictures so many times as a boy and a young man that now, fifty years later, from memory, I can still recall most of the cartoon subtitles: Life’s Darkest Moments, The Thrill That Comes Once in a Lifetime, How to Torture Your Wife, and How to Torture Your Husband. A number of Webster’s cartoons featured strip-style scenes with talking trout. If I can dig up my copy of that book, I’ll post the photo of my favorite series of a big brown, doing all the talking as he bragged to a little trout how many different flies he’d eaten and leaders he broke over the years in order to survive. That might convince you all that I do come by this stretch of imagination honestly. For further validation of my “honest imagination” I note that Ed Zern penned the famous quotation, “Fly fishermen are born honest, but they get over it.”
So, if trout could talk, I imagine that something like the word “dang,” might have been the first utterance by the pictured individuals who are part of the resident population of Pennsylvania’s Spring Creek. These ladies and gentlemen, after trying to eat my fly on Sunday, April 29th, were summarily brought to hand, against their will, much to their amazement, surprise, and chagrin. After posing for these photos, upon their release, (we are still in imagine mode now), they had to endure the certainty of humiliation as they swam back to their companions who no doubt ridiculed them for their fool-hardy behavior. The words spoken by these embarrassed individuals in self-defense to their family and friends no doubt varied, but again, using my imagination, must have gone something like this: “Dang. I could have sworn that was a real fly!”
This rainbow is the only trout of that species that I have hooked thus far on five Spring Creek trips this year, of close to 100 others, all browns.
About 2:30 PM I switched to a Sulphur Comparadun, size #14, since Sulphurs were starting to hatch and the trout fed on them. I took this fellow and a dozen-and-a-half more, all on that pattern before Truman and I headed home about five-thirty PM.
More to follow…