After a lackluster ice fishing season for me I was glad when the spring thaw came early. Almost a month early. After a mostly-unsuccessful jaunt to the Mighty Menominee for brown trout and/or walleye I got pretty eager to find open water at the beginning of April and decided to check out a couple of brook trout ponds open to fishing year-round. I knew when I left in the morning and it was 17 degrees it couldn’t be good, despite significant melting. Sure enough, 100% ice coverage all around. I half-assed fished a couple rivers for steelhead and enjoyed the far warmer afternoon weather before heading home.
Fast-forward a week and everything was wide open. DC and I set off with kayaks to these same ponds that were ice-locked 8 days prior. The first pond – it’s not even worth making up a fake name – required a bit of a hike in. More than a bit with kayaks in tow. I’ve never had that difficult of an acceas before, even at the most remote streams and lakes I’ve fished. The fishing just had to be good. Nope. 2 hours and several laps around the pond later with nothing to show. It was scenic though! The kind of place that belongs a secret.
Back to the truck. Fortunately the 2nd pond we visited was much easier to access. We got on the water in no time. However, my tried-and-true trolling methods weren’t working out. Like, not even any sub-legal fish or a bluegill or something. After an hour on pond 2 we were about ready to head out and drink a 30 pack of Busch Lattes or something.
Maybe it was the nonchalantness of bobber fishing or the country music playlist he had on his phone, but somehow out of nowhere DC got a bite. Bobber down. “Holy shit, I have one on!” I was close by so I watched for a couple seconds in disbelief as his rod bent over. Then, “This is a decent one!” as he caught a glimpse of the fish on its side. I watched another second or two as the fish continued to make runs under his kayak, bending his ultralight spinning rod on a hoop. “Need me to net it?” I asked, paddling closer. I readied the net and DC worked the fish over in my direction. I scooped it up and brought it in to see one of the thickest and colored-up brook trout I’ve ever seen. Wow! Unlike some of the hatchery-raised adult fish I’ve caught, this one had a perfectly formed tail and fins. Looking at the stocking record, it likely was planted as a yearling and lived most of its life in this tiny pond.
Unfortunately that was the only fish all day. If you’re only going to catch one better make it good! The final measurements? 15.25 inches long with a 9.5 inch girth. On the drive home the conversation turned from, “are you sure you don’t want to keep it?” to “I don’t feel like cleaning a fish”, to “I think I’m going to get it mounted.” It currently sits wrapped in my chest freezer awaiting the taxidermist.
Here’s until April 24th. May the trout be large and plentiful.
Saturday Nauna Night 