The April Fool

The time of year has rolled around again for me to think of Trout and of the places they live. After my scout into the Neversink Gorge unique Area with Russ, I just knew my first casts of the year would settle on these pools and pockets in this part of my beloved Neversink. So on a rainy and cool April first, I set out after my first Trout of the year.

I carried no waders and wore only my hiking boots. I chose a five weight St Crox four piece rod that was a gift from my late friend Frank. He and I took many Trout years ago, before his God called him to cast a line with him. He "left" me the rod to as he put it "take care of for him".

With pride Bro!

As before the hike to the water was two miles from my trusty rusty, but this time I had the GPS to short cut me right to my plotted spot. The RED trail was so easy to follow that Stevie and Ray could have found it, it took a bit of nerve for me to step off into the forest. The trails are so well defined that the carpeted forest floor looked even more foreboding.

And still more trails I decided not to follow.
The rain held off for most of my trip down into the gorge but the sky was a constant grey that told of wet times ahead. The soft moist leaves made little sound under my weight and I liked moving like a local instead of just a visitor in this wild wood.

I crossed the most beautiful mountain stream as I descended. Hidden in the trees and flowing out of cracks in the rocks, the springs emptied into one as they rushed toward the Neversink below. It seemed like a post card, almost too perfect. I sat for a moment to drink it in with my eyes and ears.

The Neversink was just below me and I could smell the air freshening. The breeze that always seems to follow water was cooling things down and making my spirits rise, lets hope the Trout would as well.

River side history, an old hunters treestand still hangs as a skeleton on a tree. The stand is gone and maybe the hunter as well but the hunting still looks good. Time for a SPOT check, I tested my satellite messenger three times in the gorge. Three times it sent strong OKAY massages. Its a nice feeling to have a babby sitter.

At last I made the river, its stones causing the water to crash around making a thunderous hiss. Some of these rocks weighed tons.

I turned my camera skyward to view the other side of the canyon, its walls high and formidable, home to Eagles and Hawks.

I moved up stream into an area where the water calmed and the foam line was evident and inviting. I love pocket water and this trip produced a seven inch Brook Trout from one of these pockets, but I wanted to wonder and the quiet deeper water just seemed to beckon me.
The river was narrower here but the walls on the other side of the gorge seemed to go straight up. Ice hung from the rocks where the Sun's rays had a hard time filtering through. Just under the waters surface I could discern the undercut ledge rock behind the foam line...Trout ville!

Only one Trout this trip and not even a photo for the Blog thanks to a long distance release, but wow what a trip. I had my lunch on a boulder in the rain before starting the long climb out. Old trusty rusty was waiting to coddle my weary rear end in the parking lot. As always the measure of the trip's value is in the quality not quantity.

I'll be back, next time with out Trout!